Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“All right, go get dressed, and then we’ll go to the store so we can pick up the ingredients.”
While we wait for them to get ready, I text Bree to let her know our plans since I don’t want to leave without her knowing where her kids are, and she says she’ll be back around four o’clock. She’s training the new baker and a part-timer who’d like more hours, which means they need to learn how to close the shop.
Me: Want to do dinner and a movie again?
Now that she’s crossed the line and lets us hang out with the kids, if it were up to me, we’d hang out every night—especially since they’re already comfortable at our place and seem to like Hayden and me.
Bree: You really want to spend another night at home after babysitting two kids all day?
Hayden: We can go out if you want.
Bree: I can’t go out… I meant YOU GUYS. Why would you want to be trapped at home all night after being stuck at home all day?
Hayden glances over at me and shakes his head.
“She’ll get it eventually,” I tell him. “She just needs time.”
Me: I don’t think you seem to understand. Hayden and I aren’t babysitting your kids. We’re caring for and spending time with our girlfriend’s children while she busts her ass at work. And tonight, after you get home, we want nothing more than to order in dinner and watch a movie with you and your kids. We hope that one day when you’re ready, we’ll all live under one roof as a family. We’re not trapped or stuck. We’re in love with a woman who has two kids. Two kids who are pretty damn amazing, just like their mom.
Bree: And now I’m crying in the middle of the coffeehouse. I love you.
Hayden: We love you more. See you later.
“Ready!” Evie yells, flying down the stairs. “Can we get pineapple for the pizza? Please?”
“Pineapple is not meant for pizza!” Miles shouts, coming down after her. “We need sausage and pepperoni and lots of cheese.”
“I want pineapple,” Evie argues.
“No way,” Miles says back.
“How about we all make our own pizzas, and you guys can put whatever you want on yours?” I say.
Evie glances at me. “Whatever we want?” she asks slowly.
“Sure.” I shrug, proud of myself for ending that argument before it started.
Two hours later, the kids insist on sending their mom pictures of their pizzas. Miles’s is pepperoni, Cheetos, sausage, and Doritos, and Evie’s is M&M, Twix, mini marshmallows, and pineapple.
And as I hit send on the text, I think to myself that before I agree next time, I’ll make sure to ask questions… seek clarification. It’s like being in a business meeting. I wasn’t prepared.
But next time, I will be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
AUBREE
“Is there a reason I keep ending up in a bed sandwiched between my kids instead of with you and Hayden?” I ask sleepily, crawling into Brody’s bed since he’s already awake. It’s early. Three thirty in the morning. But I have to get going to meet my new baker. I probably should’ve spent the night at my place, but the kids are starting camp today and begged to sleep here, which doesn’t surprise me since they’ve asked to spend the night the past two nights as well.
Hayden said by sleeping here, they can sleep in instead of getting up early with me, and I couldn’t argue with that.
What I can argue with, however, is why all three nights we’ve slept here, I’ve started off sleeping in one of the guy’s beds and ended up in a different bed.
“There is,” Brody says, setting his phone down and giving me his full attention. I love that no matter how busy he and Hayden are with work, when I talk, they stop what they’re doing and listen. I noticed over the weekend that they do the same thing for my kids. Several times they would be texting or emailing, and when my kids wanted or needed them for something, they stopped and gave them their attention.
“When I was growing up, my mom went through boyfriends and husbands like one goes through underwear. Sometimes, I would wake up and find her in bed with a guy I didn’t know, and it made me uncomfortable.” He takes my hand, threads his fingers through mine, then looks at me and smiles softly. “When your kids see us sleeping in the same bed, I want them to know it’s because we’re a family. I want them to understand what is happening and to feel comfortable with it.
“I love that you’re comfortable with staying here with them, and that you want to go to sleep and wake up with Hayden and me. I just feel that when we do that, it should be because we’ve agreed to spend our lives together.”