Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“We’ve been doing this for months now. I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think no one will notice, and I see the way he looks at you, not giving a fuck if everyone sees. Even when he thought you and I were a thing, he still made it perfectly clear to those who were watching that if by some chance he got a shot, you would be his.”
“I really think you are reading way too much into this.”
“Am I?”
I want to say yes, but that would be a lie. Every time I’ve seen Sage out, it’s taken everything in me to keep my feet from moving in his direction, and when I’m not carefully watching him, I can feel his eyes on me like a physical touch.
“We don’t have time to talk about this.” I decide to say. “We need to finish shopping, and I have to get to the house. Elizabeth is meeting Jelikai in Nashville for dinner, and you know she can’t leave the boys alone for more then ten minutes without someone ending up in the hospital, so I can’t be late.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, but I know Chris. He may have given up for now, but he has not given up forever, and he won’t until he gets his way, and I admit there is still something between Sage and me. “Just so you know, I’m reserving the right to tell you ‘I told you so’ when this is all said and done.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes at him then grab the shopping cart from his grasp and finish up my grocery shopping.
“Elizabeth, I’m here!” I shout into the house as I toss my bag on the table near the front door. Hearing no reply over the boys yelling and the sounds of a video game being played, I head up the stairs. Stopping at the door of the theater room, I watch Jimmy, the oldest at fourteen, as he tosses Aiden, who is three, onto the couch, making him laugh, while the other two, Mickey who’s six and Hayden who’s nine, sit on the floor with headphones on and controllers in their hands.
“Hey, guys!” I shout over the sound of the TV, and all four heads swing toward me.
“Kim.” Aiden smiles, running toward me, while the other boys grin and wave before going back to what they were doing.
“Hey, dude.” I pick him up, and he wraps his tiny arms around my neck before dropping his head to my shoulder, making something deep inside me wish for a moment just like this with my own baby one day. “Did you eat dinner yet?”
“No.” He leans back to look at me. “Can we have pizza?”
“Sure,” I agree, and he looks to where Jimmy is now sitting with Mickey and Hayden, who are still playing a video game.
“We get to have pizza!” he shouts. At that announcement, the boys all smile at me. Elizabeth is a health freak, so the kids love when I come over, because they know they will get some form of junk food before the night is over.
“Where’s your mom?” I ask, carrying Aiden away from the fighting that has suddenly erupted over the controllers for the video game.
“In her room, getting ready,” he says, so I head down the hall toward the master bedroom. Knocking on the door that is open, I smile as Elizabeth pokes her head out of the bathroom and grins.
“Hey, I’m just about ready,” she says, putting a long, dangly earring in her ear. “Give me two then I need you to tell me how I look.”
“Okay,” I reply as she disappears once more. Walking across the room, I take a seat in one of the chairs that are set up in front of the fireplace, with Aiden still clinging to me. As soon as I’m down, he stands on the tops of my thighs and takes hold of my hands.
“Watch what I can do.”
I grin right before he jumps and doubles back, flipping over. Narrowly missing getting kicked in the face by his tiny bare feet, I laugh at him as he stands, tossing his hands in the air. “Wow, that was awesome.”
“Wanna see me do it again?” he asks with a bright smile as he starts to climb back up onto my lap.
“Aiden, how about we don’t give Kim a concussion,” Elizabeth suggests as she walks out of the bathroom, putting on her heels. She is beautiful, with long brown hair that flows past her shoulders, skin that subtly announces her Spanish heritage, and hazel eyes that change to green when she’s happy, or brown when she’s frustrated with her boys.
“What’s a concussion?” Aiden asks, climbing up onto the arm of the chair to stand there.
“A head injury, honey,” she mutters before looking at me. “So what do you think?” She holds out her hands, spinning in a circle.