Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
So much that I feel guilty even thinking impure thoughts about her. “Yes.”
“And you’re going to wait until she’s ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then, no, I’m not going to beat you, and neither is my dad. If you hurt her, then, sure, expect a visit from the two of us. If you don’t wait until she’s ready, I’ll pound your face in until even your mom can’t recognize you. After I’m done, my dad will take you apart and bury your bones in the quarry. Otherwise, we’re cool.”
He pushes away from the wall and walks past me, leaving me open-mouthed and dumbfounded.
At the doorway, he turns back and his easygoing expression is replaced with a hard-eyed glint. “If I ever hear you use disrespectful words toward her again, I will pull your dick up through your esophagus.”
I nod, straighten the already situated swim trunks, and stumble after him.
This family…this family is wild. And amazing.
* * *
Bitsy
“He’s like a wild animal,” Leka huffs. “I don’t like it.”
I rub a hand down my husband’s back to soothe him. “He reminds me of someone.”
My man jerks back in surprise. “Me? I’m not anything like that kid. That kid is afraid of everything.”
“Me. He reminds me of myself.” I lean close and tuck my cheek against Leka’s smooth cheek. He shaved when he heard the kids were bringing friends over. "I was a scared child and someone saved me."
His hand comes up to press my face closer to his. "That was me being selfish. I was tired of being alone. What reason would Beckett have for dragging this stray off the street?"
"I'd say it's because she's watched her daddy help people all of his life and wants to make him proud."
Leka places a hand on the cherry wood trim at the top of the window and leans forward to watch as Beckett stands in the middle of our small pool and tries to lure Zach Brooks into the water.
He's unsure of everything—the kids, the water, this house. Everything, that is, but Beckett. He adores her. When she's around, he stands up taller. He listens to every word that drops from her lips like she's an oracle sent to him from God above. I guess he's a little of both of us. Scared—like I was—and devoted like Leka.
Zach takes a step toward the pool, but he doesn't move fast enough for either of the Moore kids. My son pushes him in. Beckett holds up her hands to shield herself from the water and screams with laughter. Kincaid performs one of those water bombs where he tucks his large body into a ball and crashes the surface of the water. Droplets spray everyone. The backyard is full of laughter.
My cheeks hurt from smiling. Had I ever imagined my life would be so perfect? So full?
Leka sighs and pushes away from the window. "He better not hurt her," he mutters as he walks over to the sofa.
Kincaid tries to splash Beckett, and Zach somehow is able to sweep my daughter out of range and simultaneously dunk my son under the water. "He'd rather cut off his arm," I observe.
I leave the kids in peace and join Leka on the sofa. His arm comes up to cup my shoulders.
"Life is good, isn't it?" There’s an undercurrent of wonderment. Even after all these years, Leka still can’t believe his good fortune.
"Better than I ever imagined." I kiss his cheek. He tries very hard to present a clean-cut suburban appearance as far from his gangster past as possible. I suppose to the untrained eye, he appears a quiet, even-tempered dad of two. He has a barbecue, which he never uses, and khakis, which he's never worn, but there's an edge that's baked into him. His eyes are always watchful. His hand often strays to his side where his shoulder holster used to hang. His showers are always scorching hot. There's a go bag in every closet in the house and a panic room in the basement. But because of him, our kids have never known true fear. They've never gone to bed with an empty stomach. They've always had love.
They are blessed because of Leka. We are all so blessed. My heart swells with emotion.
"I love you," I whisper against the hard line of his jaw.
He tilts his head and gazes down at me with a searching glance. "What's this about?"
"Can't I say I love you for no reason?" I press another kiss on the underside of his chin and am rewarded with a swift intake of breath. He's surprisingly sensitive here. Sometimes I shave him, but only at night, after the kids have gone to bed because he never allows me to finish.
"You can, but in that tone?" He seems semi-scandalized. "There are kids here." He nods toward the backyard.
I wriggle onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. "They're old enough to take care of themselves."