Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Mom!” Dylan shouts. “Justin, I’m starving, and it’s hot.”
“I really have to check and see if there is a hole in his stomach,” she says while I laugh, and finally, I see her smile. “I’m not kidding.”
“He’s a growing boy,” I say when we get to the SUV, and I open the door for her. “It just gets worse.”
“Great,” she mumbles, climbing into the passenger side.
When I pull into the same diner we ate at yesterday, Dylan already knows what he’s going to order. I wait to see if Caroline orders for herself, but she looks at the menu and then just orders a bowl of fruit. I order more than I’m going to eat, and I’m happy when she takes a bit of the eggs and a sausage. When I pay the bill, she starts to go through her purse. “Don’t even think about it.”
“You’ve paid for breakfast this whole week,” she says. “Seriously, I can pay for breakfast.”
“Yeah,” I say, draining the juice from my glass. “Good to know. You’re not going to but still good to know.”
I slide out of the booth, and Dylan follows me and walks ahead of me. I wait for Caroline to slide out, and the dress has risen a bit, showing off her long legs. “Next time, I’m not going to order anything.”
I shrug and grab her hand in mine. “It’s okay. I’ll order for both of us.”
“I won’t eat.” She thinks she can one-up me.
“I’m sure I can force-feed you.” I wink at her, and now I put my hand over her shoulder and pull her to me as she groans. “Eventually, you’ll eat.”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, we just walk to the SUV, and Dylan opens the back door. “I’m going to walk from here,” she says, and I look down at her. “It’s two blocks.”
“It’ll take me thirty seconds,” I say, and she just shakes her head.
“Give me a kiss,” she says to Dylan, who leans over and kisses her. “Have a good day at camp.”
“It’s free Friday,” he says, and she looks over at me.
“They can do whatever activity they want all day long,” I fill her in. “If he wants to stay on the ice the whole day, that’s okay. If he wants to stay in the gym and then go on the ice, that’s okay, too.”
“I’m going to do whatever Justin does,” Dylan says to her.
“That sounds like a great day.” She smiles at him and then closes the door. “Have a good day, you two.”
I walk to her, and I’m not sure I’m okay with Dylan watching us kiss, so I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Call me when you get to work.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says when I walk around the front.
“Either you call me or I drive you?” I give her the option. Everyone likes options, right?
“Or I walk to work and start my day and see you tonight.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Yeah, those options are both negative.” I look at her. “I can always carry you over my shoulder, put you in the vehicle, and then drive you there.” I smile now as she puts her hand up to shield the sun from her face. “Not going to lie to you. The latter is my preferred.”
I can’t see her eyes with the sun. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
“See, that was easy,” I say, smirking, and she just shakes her head and turns to walk away. I watch her for way too long, until she disappears around the corner, and I want to jump into the SUV and follow her, but I know she’ll just close up again.
Instead, I start the vehicle and make my way to the rink. After five minutes, I’m about to turn back around when my phone rings. “Hello,” I answer the Bluetooth.
“I’m here,” she says, and I smile.
“See, was that so hard?” I ask, waiting for her answer.
“Yes,” she huffs out. “Now I have to go.”
“Have a great day at work, sweetheart,” I say, and she doesn’t answer me; she just hangs up, and I laugh. Dylan just looks out the window while I drive to the rink. I park in my usual spot, and I’m getting him out of the truck when my phone rings, and I see it’s Allison.
“Hey,” I say, putting the phone to my ear and grabbing Dylan’s hand.
“Don’t hey me,” she starts, her tone angry. “Why would you tell Zara you think I’m getting fat?”
“What?” I ask, confused, and we walk in. “Go get changed,” I say, and he runs off.
“Zara just called,” she says. “I’m not getting fat. I just weighed myself, and I’m the same I was the last time you saw me.”
“I never said you were getting fat.” I laugh. “Not once.”
“You better not,” she says. “So I heard something.”