Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Sounds a lot like us.” You know, minus a lot of bloodshed.
She leaned in to kiss me then.
Long and hard.
Until she sighed and leaned her head into my chest.
“So, what do you think about giving Nitro a little brother or sister?” she asked.
“Come again?”
“Hope said A’s dog was waiting for her, you know, spay appointment. But then someone’s dog knocked her up. So now there’s gonna be babies.”
“Think Nitro could get behind having some siblings.”
“K-9 and human?” she asked, giving me a smile
“Absolutely. In fact, we should practice making one right now,” I said, pulling her with me down the beach, going under the dock while she squealed as the water toyed with her gown, soaked my feet.
It didn’t matter.
I was yanking up that skirt anyway, and burying myself inside her as the tide crashed around us, into us, having the same sort of violent urgency that we did then as I pushed her up against one of the beams and fucked her hard and fast until we were both coming, both crying out our release.
“You better have a nice chunk of money to tip that poor driver for getting his car all wet and sandy,” Sylvie chided as we made our way back to the parking lot, mostly empty save for a few of the girls and guys who’d hung out, likely wanting to see if I’d gotten the balls to pop the question or not.
Shit was never kept a secret in the club for long.
As soon as Valen knew, I knew Lou did.
Then, well, shit spiraled from there, I was sure.
As soon as we were in view, I grabbed Syl’s hand, yanking it up high in the air so they could all see the ring.
Sylvie - 12 years
“Remind me again why we thought it was a good idea to have three unruly boys in the span of five years,” Sylvie said as we watched the boys tear across the backyard. One of ‘em had a toy sword raised over his head. The other two, having already broken their swords, but not wanting to be left out, each had sticks.
I needed to buy more swords.
Sure, the sticks were free.
But the twigs could take an eye out.
At least the store-bought ones were foam.
Which, you’d think would do absolutely no damage, but anything in the hands of our children could be turned into a weapon.
“In our defense, we didn’t know they’d be unruly back then,” Voss said, wincing when one of the twig-wielding ones tore up the slide, arm aloft, like he was leading his troops into battle.
“True,” I agreed. “And mother nature really fucked us good when we lucked out with babies who slept through the night almost immediately, and were never finicky.”
“They were saving their energy,” Voss said as two of the boys started sword fighting. “For this,” he added, his shoulders pulling up to his ears as the one on top of the slide lost his footing and started to topple down.
“Thank God their bones seem to be made of rubber at this age,” I said.
It was probably naive to believe for even a moment that the two of us might produce docile, sweet children.
I mean, they weren’t monsters or anything. Just… wild. And reckless. And a little too fond of adventure.
I felt like half of my parenting duties included breaking up fights and first aid.
“We’re out of our fucking minds,” Voss said as his gaze slid to the side of the room. Where about a dozen suitcases, backpacks, and bags were situated. Ready to load into the RV we’d purchased a while back.
Voss and I had spent a lot of time traveling in our lives. And we both agreed we wanted that for our children as well. But now, as the moment was approaching to spend the entire summer in a couple hundred square feet with three energetic and easily bored boys, yeah, there were some regrets.
But the RV was purchased.
The plans were drawn up.
The kids were told.
It was a done deal.
Besides, it was long overdue.
We’d ended up cutting our honeymoon short when I’d taken so sick that we thought I’d had a really nasty stomach bug.
Turned out it was Baby Boy #1 making himself known to the world. And after that, well, we’d been popping them out and trying to keep them from killing themselves or each other since.
We’d managed a few day trips, but no actual vacations.
It was time.
I had slowed down at Barlowe House sometime after our second son was born. Sure, I was still a part of that business, running the charitable events, overseeing updates and whatnot. But we’d been able to hire more staff over the years, and it allowed both Russ and I to take steps back to enjoy our lives while we knew the important work of Barlowe House was still getting done.