Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“I’m here.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m heading now to pick up Max from school, and Mitchell has track until five, so we’ll be home around 5:30 and eat a little after six. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, that works,” I say softly.
“See you then, babe.”
He hangs up before I can say goodbye and I drop my phone to my lap, staring at the dark screen and trying to figure out what just happened. I don’t get why he asked me where I was or why his mood seemed to change when I told him. “Men are so confusing.” I sigh, grabbing my handbag before I get out of the car and go into the store, where I pick up what I need along with a few boxes of condoms.
I reach my apartment twenty minutes later, and as soon as I shut the door and start to slip off my coat, Melbourne, who is lounging on the couch, meows loudly, gaining my attention. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your nap?” I ask sarcastically, and I swear he rolls his eyes at me before he jumps down, swishing his tail.
I shake my head as he prances into my bedroom then start for the kitchen, only to stop when there is a knock on my front door. Not expecting anyone, I check the peephole and frown when I see no one is there. Figuring it’s just the kids in the complex messing around, I start to turn from the door when there is suddenly another knock. Wanting to scare them a little, I swing the door open, only it’s me who is taken by surprise, because not only is Gareth standing in my breezeway, but so is Max.
“Please tell me you have food. I’m starving, and Dad didn’t bring me a snack,” Max offers as a greeting, and I blink at his adorable pleading face.
“I… I have food,” I stammer out.
“Thank God,” he groans, walking past me into my apartment, and I turn to watch him take a seat on my couch then look at his father when his hand touches my hip.
“He’s not actually starving. He had two granola bars on the way over here.”
“You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”
He shrugs. “We have some time to kill before we have to pick up Mitchell, and your place is closer than mine to the school. I drove by, figuring if I saw your car we’d stop, and if not we’d go on home.”
I start to tell him he still should have called to let me know he was coming over with Max, but before I can open my mouth, he leans down, gently touching his lips to mine. When he pulls back, I see he’s smiling.
“Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, wishing he didn’t have split personalities or turn me into a complete idiot with a simple kiss.
“You have a cat!” At that exclamation, I turn quickly to warn Max that Melbourne isn’t exactly nice, but find my cat on his lap, rubbing his jaw along Max’s chin, and can hear him purring loudly even from across the room.
“I thought you said your cat doesn’t like people.”
“He doesn’t,” I mutter, and Gareth laughs while shutting the door.
“He’s so cool.” Max smiles at me, scratching the head of the cat who has obviously been switched with mine.
“Let me find you something to eat.” I smile back at him before stepping into the kitchen.
“What’s his name?”
“Melbourne,” I call out. “Or I think it is. My cat doesn’t like people, so I don’t know who you’re holding.” I hear him laugh from the other room and I smile.
“You don’t have to feed him, babe. He can wait to eat until dinner,” Gareth tells me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, and I lean back into his embrace then tip my head to the side until I catch his gaze.
“I don’t really have anything nutritious to feed a growing boy, but I’m not going to let your son starve.”
His eyes search mine for a moment then he shakes his head, kisses the tip of my nose, and lets me go to leave the kitchen. Not sure what that was about or why goose bumps are breaking out on my arms, I go back to searching for something to feed Max.
“Max, are chips and salsa okay?” I shout. When he calls out a yes, I dump a jar of salsa into a bowl then dig through the cabinets for corn chips. Carrying the bowl and the bag with me into the living room, I stop in my tracks when I see Gareth pick up Melbourne and flip him to his back to rub his stomach—a move that would for sure get my eyes scratched out.
Okay, so my cat is obviously sexist and only likes men. Good to know.