Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“No,” she snaps, a hint of anger in her voice. “There are consequences for the choices he made. You did the right thing.”
“I still feel bad,” he mumbles.
“And those are valid feelings. That means it’s okay to not be happy about what is happening, but I don’t want you to feel guilty. We still have a little while before we need to get up. Let’s see if we can sleep a little more.”
The days after he wakes with a nightmare, Ryder is like any other child. His temper is short, and he’s grumpy. It doesn’t help any that most days he goes to daycare because Sunshine is good about making him keep his routines.
Sunshine starts to sing, and the squawking is damn near unbearable, but it brings a smile to my face. Her singing is… awful.
Somehow the imperfection makes her more perfect.
As I walk back toward our bedroom, I consider trying to keep from falling for her because there’s a chance I’ll lose her eventually, but what would be the point since I’ve already fallen?
Chapter 37
Sunshine
I startle awake and it takes longer than it probably should to realize Brent is knocking on the closed bedroom door.
I try to smile when the door opens, but the sunlight streaming into the room is blinding.
I turn my head a little, feeling out of it because of how hard I was sleeping. We’ve had more bad nights than good where Ryder’s sleep pattern is concerned, and I feel like since he’s starting school next week, the anxiety of that change for him is causing a lot of it.
Brent grins back at me, and God, how is it fair he’s so damn good looking?
He remains silent, letting me rake my eyes down his body. He feeds my hunger in ways I never thought possible. He somehow knows I need moments like this, just a few seconds to let the reality of us sink inside of me. His kindness and attention made me realize very quickly that I never had any of that with Travis. I’m not saying my ex isn’t capable of it. He’s just not capable of it for me. The man in the doorway feels more for me than Travis ever did, and honestly, that’s okay. If I didn’t have what I have now, maybe it would bother me. I’ve fully put Travis in my past, where any form of a relationship other than the one required because we share a son, is concerned.
His eyes drop to Ryder curled into my side, still sleeping. He isn’t annoyed that he woke up alone. He won’t complain about it or punish either of us in some passive-aggressive way. There won’t be mumbling under his breath. He won’t slam things around in the kitchen like Travis did not long after our son was born and he was feeling neglected. I won’t catch him talking shit about me to his friends. He won’t disappear when the sun goes down and stay gone for hours.
The man is solid as a rock, understanding in a way I never knew possible. He’s a real man, not a boy that never grew up pretending to be one.
“I let you sleep as long as I could, but if you two want breakfast before work, you gotta get up.”
I know he’s making it sound like an option, but it really isn’t. The only time he gets a little annoyed with me is when I do things he considers unhealthy. Skipping breakfast is a pet peeve of his. Even if I stomp my foot and remind him I’m a damn adult, he just smiles and tells me to sit down.
I wanted to claw his eyes out when I told him not to fucking treat me like a child and he shoved a piece of toast in my mouth before kissing my forehead and whispering that I should save those claws for the bedroom.
I saved them alright, and it was the most explosive sex I’d ever had.
“I’ll skip it this morning.”
His grin widens in challenge. “I made pancakes.”
“Pancakes?” Ryder asks, rolling over and rubbing his eyes.
Unlike me, the kid can easily go from zero to a hundred. Like a shot, he’s off the bed and running down the hallway.
“You’re spoiling me,” I mutter as I sit on the edge of the bed and rub my eyes.
“To make you love me,” he says in that casual way he does as if he knows it’s a forgone conclusion.
I stand, loving his eyes on me when I lift my arms over my head. My nipples threaten to make themselves known with his attention. I pray the day never comes when he’d rather look anywhere else than at me.
Before I can argue about his love statement, he winks at me and walks away.
I make a detour to our bedroom before heading to the kitchen.