Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“You mind if I come over?”
I barely finish my shrug before he does his superhero vault into my space again. Why do I find that so fascinating?
His thighs. And everything above and below them.
Dragging one of my new chairs closer, he sits down so our knees are almost touching and frowns thoughtfully. “Not just tired. And I don’t think it’s your brother’s visit that has you looking down. I heard a lot of laughing over here tonight.”
“No. It’s not him.”
When I don’t offer more, he continues. “I looked up Bellamy House. I thought it was your basic community center, but it’s really something special, isn’t it? I think it’s great, the outreach you’re doing there. I can’t imagine what those kids have gone through. I don’t think I’d want to.”
I don’t need to imagine it. Which is why today has left me feeling raw and lost in the past. All those kids—teens mostly, but a few of them were younger—could be me if things had gone differently. They all wore the same wary armor I recognize from my life before those mylar balloons.
“Thanks again for the save. Some of my biggest hits were in there. Now all I need to do is decide on the best way for J&T to help the center. It’s not going to be as easy as I thought. They run such a tight ship over there, they barely need us.”
He tilts his head, studying me. He’s wearing another set of pajama bottoms, blue and white plaid this time, and a white t-shirt that strains around his shoulders and biceps. I now have a pajama fetish. Cozy is now sexy because of him.
“You don’t work for the nanny-wrangling company, do you? You own it.”
I shift in my seat, stung by a bit of defensiveness. “Hard to believe, I know. But I do work with nannies. I wasn’t lying.”
“You weren’t bragging either, and you should be.”
“I didn’t invent anything. I filled a need and focused on quality hiring. But sometimes when people know something about you, it becomes what you are. All that you are.” Rich. Gay. Fostered. “It’s nice to take a break from labels.”
His nods in understanding. “I’m the opposite. With me it’s always been a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of deal. I play ball. That’s what I am.”
“You’re more than that.”
“Now,” he agrees easily. “But before Rue? Not so much.”
Does he really believe that?
He chews on his lower lip, then he smiles. “Take that schedule your Fiona sent me tonight. I had no idea there’d be so many options. When I was a kid, I was either helping my sister train or working on my fastball.”
I scratch my cheek, trying not to laugh. “I don’t think you’re allowed to pull out the ‘back in my day’ card before you hit your thirties.”
“I got mine early. Fatherhood has perks.”
He’s got me there. “What was your sister training for?”
“The Olympics. Ice skating. Her drills were brutal. I couldn’t keep up, not even at my best.”
The Olympic Olympics? “Sounds like athletic skills run in your family.”
“Obsessive focus runs in our family.” He meets my gaze and awareness makes my limbs heavy. Green eyes. So pretty. “What about your foster brother? Or brothers, right? The one who likes baseball and a guy who rescues people?”
Thank you for remembering that.
“I actually have nine, but only two of them live nearby at the moment. JD and Royal.”
I’m used to his shock. It’s the usual reaction to this information. “Nine? Your parents fostered ten boys?”
I start ticking them off on my fingers. “JD is an advice columnist. Royal’s a pilot, Grant’s a lawyer, Isaac is the ambassador of professional vacations in Nantucket or something. Christopher teaches piano. Craig is in insurance, Stewart is a survival guide who should only be known for saving the lives of multiple lost campers.”
Elliot crosses his heart, grinning. “I’ll never say anything different.”
“And finally, there’s Richard and Manuel—Dickie and Manwich to the family. They’re both pretty vague about what they’ve been doing since they got out of the MMA scene. I like to think they’ve developed an interest in horticulture, but the rest of my family worries it might be crime-related.”
His lips part and close once. Then again. He narrows his eyes as if to test my veracity. “Ten?”
“All of us the same age.”
“No.”
“Oh yeah.”
Elliot shakes his head. “Your mother is a saint.”
“And if you say any different, she might take you to court.”
We both smile at that.
“The other guy with JD tonight, I know he can’t be anyone from that list. Is he an uncle or something?”
“The other…” He’s talking about Carter. The older Marine with the insanely ripped body and salt-and-pepper beard who, next to the eternally youthful JD, must look like…
That’s when the tears come. My stomach seizes with laughter and I bend over in my chair with my forehead nearly in his lap. “Oh, God, that’s fantastic.”