Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“Then I guess you better get on it then,” Lily slides next to me, hands sliding up my biceps until they’re looped around my neck, I bend my knees so were at an even level just when her lips hit mine, full of passion like everything else Lily does in life, it’s a zest for life, always wanting the wind in her hair, a smile plastered on her face, and she’s mine, all mine.
To the single parents out there, take that break, read that book, go on that day trip with a friend. You deserve it!
About 1102 Sugar Rd.
Sheriff Larson is about to show single mom, Faith, that he’s a man who always gets his woman…
I’ve had my eyes on Faith Bridges for months now.
I haven’t made a secret of it, but she’s not giving me the time of day.
In fact, she’s driving me crazy.
There’s a pull between us and I know she feels it, but she refuses to let her guard down.
I know why.
She’s a single mother and she’s got her son to worry about.
She doesn’t want a man to waltz into their lives and leave them.
What Faith doesn’t realize is that I’m not that type of man.
I’m her man.
I’m going to prove to her that she and her son can count on me forever.
Chapter 1
Faith
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee to my left, computer in front of me, and the notepad to my right. Being a single mom is hard, especially in a small town like Cherry Falls. I work two jobs to provide for Logan and myself—as a housekeeper at The Manor House and a substitute teacher at the Schoolhouse. The second one definitely helps out since Logan is now in kindergarten and the helicopter mom in me is strong. I’m smart not to sub in his class, mainly just working where I’m needed between my schedule as a housekeeper. My number one goal is to always make sure Logan is taken care of. It wasn’t easy being pregnant at twenty-one, with a deadbeat baby daddy. Not to mention a set of parents who decided since I wasn’t married, they wanted nothing to do with me or the bundle of joy I was carrying inside me.
So, I did what anyone would do. I moved away, took what I could in my beat-up, sun-faded red two-door coupé, and left without looking back. I had no idea where I was going, only had a little over a thousand dollars to my name. After dropping out of the local college, driving away was the only option. I landed in Cherry Falls, a place where we have more family surrounding us than I did by our own blood. It took me working two jobs while carrying Logan to make ends meet. I didn’t stop working until the day I was in labor. Renting a one-bedroom studio apartment helped cut down on bills tremendously, and as soon as I was back on my feet, a grandmotherly neighbor who lived across the hall watched Logan. She always said it helped her more than it helped me, but there’s no way that was true. Mrs. Mary saved my ass time and time again. It’s something she still continuously does during the summer when there’s no school in session and I work full-time at The Manor House.
I’m interrupted in going over the monthly bills when I hear a knock at my front door. I look at the clock, realizing it’s getting closer to Logan’s bedtime, and wonder who would be here when it’s going on eight o’clock at night. I get up and make my way to the front door of our now small two-bedroom bungalow house. We live on a quiet older street with houses lined along both streets. Kids are out playing. It’s everything I could ever hope and dream for us.
“You didn’t even check the peephole, did you?” are the first words Graham Larson says to me, the town Sheriff, the man who is devastatingly handsome, a gem in my son’s eyes, but he’s off limits for me. I won’t let myself fall for someone, not now and probably not ever.
“Nope.” I slam the door in his face, not even going there.
“Mommy, that’s not nice. If I did that, you would put me in timeout.” Logan walks up behind me and opens the door again, allowing Graham to walk into our house.
“Hi, Graham, want to play cops and robbers?” I cross my arms over my chest, watching the scene unfold, knowing that Logan is right, which is not an easy pill to swallow. Not when a five-year-old little boy who is the spitting image of yourself is presenting you with the cold, hard facts.
“Hey, Logan, let me talk to your mom for a few minutes, and then we’ll play. Is that okay?” Graham is down on Logan’s level in a squatting position, comfortable in his Cherry Falls Sheriff’s pressed khaki-colored shirt, jeans, and boots.