Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Fuck, but she was beautiful. In the low light of the bedroom, with her hair down, there was practically a halo around her pretty face. Nate was in her arms, looking up toward his mother, and there was no way to miss the utter adoration on the boy’s face. One pudgy hand reached up, trying to catch his mother’s hair.
“She’s a nice lady and incredibly talented.” Steph eased a lock of hair out of Nate’s grabby hand. “I like her books a lot. They got me through a few rough times. I think she’s looking to make you her next hero.”
Serena wrote romance novels. He’d never read one, but he’d heard she took heavily from McKay-Taggart missions. “Nah, she’s just trying to get a bit of the lingo down.”
“She asked you about a lot more than Aussie slang,” Steph continued. “You never told me you served in Afghanistan.”
At least she was talking. She wasn’t talking about what he wanted, but she wasn’t trying to throw him out of the room, either. “Yeah, I went into the Army right out of school. The minute I was allowed to sign up, I did. I joined up right before 9/11.”
“Right before the world changed,” she said quietly.
“Yeah. My brother was already a legend by then. When the war in Afghanistan came around, I was in one of the three combat units that went. Was there for a couple of years.” He stepped closer, well aware he was moving from the shadows into the light. He did better in shadows, but he couldn’t hide there any longer. “He’s so small.”
She chuckled. “You’re joking, right?”
He shook his head, staring down at the baby. His baby. Tiny and fragile.
“Brody, he came out of my body weighing ten pounds. Ten freaking pounds. You do understand that most babies come in at seven pounds, maybe seven and a half. I practically gave birth to a toddler.”
“He looks pretty small to me.”
“Do you want to hold him?” She asked the question with the cautious tone of a woman who wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
He was scared to. Nothing in his life had scared him quite like that tiny boy in her arms. He barely remembered his father, and most of those were ghostly visions of a monster who used his fists to do his talking. His father had been a drunk and an abusive arse who’d left his mum with two kids and piece of shit station that she’d had to make work.
“Brody, it’s okay.” She stood, easily moving with the baby in her arms. “Sit down to hold him at first. It’s fine. You’re not going to drop him.”
“What if I hold him too tight?” There were plenty of things he could do wrong. He was big and clumsy at times.
A smile curled her lips up as she offered him the chair. “Then Nate will let you know. He’s not one to suffer in silence.”
“He’s barely made a sound all night.” Brody worried about the chair. It looked somewhat delicate, too. He didn’t want to break it.
“The chair is solid, Brody,” she said with a shake of her head. “You know you’re always worried you’re too big for furniture. Get over yourself. Yes, you’re all big and muscley, but most furniture is still going to be able to handle you. If my crappy folding chairs in the mess hall could take you, I think you’re fine in a rocking chair.”
There was something about the saucy way she teased him that got his motor running. Most women didn’t tease him, didn’t turn their tart tongues on the scarred bloke who looked like he’d killed many times. Women either saw him as a challenge or they were intimidated by him and stayed away. Only Steph had ever managed to get close to him, to show him she wasn’t going to take his shit, that she saw right through him.
He gave the chair his full weight and let himself rock gently. She was right. It wasn’t going to crumble under him. Another couple of pounds of baby boy wouldn’t change things. He nodded her way. “It’s solid. I think it’s safe.”
“Nate’s solid, too,” she promised him. “He’s not going to break. Have you never been around babies before?”
“Not until I met you. Not until I was in the clinic, and even then I tried to stay away from them,” he admitted.
She stood over him, though even standing while he sat, they were practically eye to eye. “I did notice that. I thought you didn’t like kids, but then you blew that all to hell by spending all your time letting the older kids treat you like a jungle gym.”
He smiled at the memory. He’d let the older ones climb him like a tree at times. One boy in particular. Ardu had a bum leg, the bones in his left leg shorter than his right, so he didn’t grow the way other kids did. They’d made fun of him for being short and one day Brody had lifted the kid up and settled him on his shoulders, letting him see the world from a different point of view. He’d walk for hours with Ardu hanging on, the boy’s wonder at the different view making any annoyance evaporate. “I like kids, Steph. Just never expected to have any of my own.”