Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
She knows how I like it, with just a touch of milk, and after she fixes my cup, she brings it over to me. She doesn’t meet my eyes though. Her gaze is squarely on my chest.
Don’t play coy now, Chloe.
“You can go and shower if you want. Harper can help me make breakfast, and it should be ready by the time you’re done.”
I look over her shoulder at my daughter, who’s organizing all the produce they just harvested from the garden. “Harper, why don’t you let Chloe get on—”
She whirls around and looks at me like I’m trying to ruin her life, sad eyes and all. “She wants my help, Dad! I’m not bothering her! I swear!”
Chloe has the good sense to stay quiet.
I’m trying to erect boundaries here, but I seem to be failing at every turn.
“Fine. You can help with breakfast, but that’s it.”
“Fine,” she says with a little stomp of her foot.
Fine.
SIXTEEN
CHLOE
We all fall into an easy summer routine. I try to run every day, or at least every other day in the mornings when it’s still cool out. Then I come home, shower, and put on a pot of coffee while I get to work in the kitchen.
It’s so quiet in the mornings while Harper sleeps. Luke is up then, usually training out back, but he avoids the kitchen like the plague either because he’s not a morning person or he doesn’t want to chitchat with me. We’re careful about bumping into each other when Harper’s not around. Alone time is dangerous, at least on my end. I’m liable to jump his bones any minute. Truly, given the right opportunity, the man could find me surgically attached to him.
As such, I’m all too happy to have the kitchen to myself while I make something light and fresh for breakfast. Usually while the two of them eat, I head out to the garden to check on what’s ripe. Then once they clear out and I have the dishes done, I’ll start on a bread or pastry. Some days, it’s a fresh brioche I can use for French toast or a sourdough to make BLT sandwiches. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent so much time in the kitchen purely for the joy of it. I know I could simply make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Luke and Harper and that would suffice. In fact, Luke would probably be happy to eat leftovers half the time, but I’m enjoying it all too much.
After lunch, Harper usually has quiet time while Luke gets some work done in his office. When they reemerge in the afternoons, I like to have a treat set out for them to snack on: cookies, scones, almond croissants, cherry Danishes, banana nut muffins. Any extras get doled out to Ned. I find he’s best handled like a wild animal. I coax him a little closer every day with the promise of treats, and every day, he’s slightly less grumpy than the day before. Soon, we’ll be chatting over coffee, playing cards. I can see it now.
Some days Harper and Luke head down to the beach, other days they stick to the pool. They’re both getting tan and lovely, and if I have to endure seeing Luke in his bathing suit one more time, I’m going to spontaneously combust. It’s just that the kitchen has these sprawling windows that face the backyard, and I can see right out to the pool. It’s so easy to see him in all his glory even when I’m not trying to! It’s going to be death by a thousand sightings of rock-hard abs, let me tell you.
One afternoon I pass by Luke’s office and overhear him talking to his lawyers about David. I don’t linger, but it sounds as if the MLBPA is going to take action against him. I have to look up what MLBPA is later: a governing body for sports agents within the MLB. Damn. I almost feel bad for him, but nope. I snuff out that bit of sympathy. Guys like him so rarely get what they deserve. I’m glad Luke is willing to take a stand. Harper doesn’t realize how lucky she is to have a dad like him.
Another afternoon, I’m in the kitchen prepping dinner when Harper and Luke get home from a long day out. I’m totally minding my own business when Luke waltzes in wearing a full Batman costume. Head to toe black, the mask, tactical belt, everything.
“Should I ask?” I arch a teasing brow.
Harper proudly tells me they spent most of their day at the children’s hospital. Luke dropped off toys, took pictures, and signed autographs for the patients.
“But why the getup? Surely you’re famous enough as it is.”
Luke shoots his daughter an unamused glare as he tugs the mask off with a relieved sigh. “Harper’s idea. She didn’t think the kids would be impressed to see me otherwise.”