Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Where is your room?” Why was he asleep here earlier? Did he really think I would make a run for it? There is a giant wall around this place. At least I’m guessing it goes all the way around it. They had to open a gate to let us in.
“This is my room.” His eyes meet mine as if I should already know that. I shake my head, ignoring him. Clearly, he still doesn't believe me. Nor does he care about how I feel or the words I said to him. I’d actually felt a little bad with how snappy I’d been with him about being alone all these years. A guilt I shouldn't have because he doesn't care. Only his anger matters.
I turn away from him, going into the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I lean up against it. This is the first time I’ve been alone since I realized who Jonas is to me. I close my eyes, still not believing any of this. There is nothing I can do. I will have to just go along with this. I walk over to the mirror and look at myself.
“Why can’t you remember?” I might be better off not remembering. I pull my hair back to look at the scar that is a daily reminder of a life I can’t remember. That same hollow feeling I get in my chest every time I do throbs back to life. No matter how much time passes it’s always there. I let my hair down, covering the scar.
The sound of Jax’s laughter has me moving into action. I find the things Jonas got me. All of them are my favorite things. Either he really does know me or he poked around my place. He didn't have time for that, though. The only thing that’s a little snug are the pants. They would have fit me before my belly started to grow. It’s been two years and I still haven’t taken off all the baby weight.
I force a smile as I open the bedroom door. The last thing I am going to do is fight with Jonas in front of our son. I can force a smile and deal with my own emotions later. Jonas stands with Jax in his arms as I exit the bathroom. Both of them are dressed.
“Mommy.” Jax reaches for me. Jonas doesn't look like he wants to let him go but he gives him to me.
“I think I need to baby proof this place.” Jonas looks around the bedroom. I see a million things Jax could grab and pull down on himself. I nod in agreement. “Breakfast?” he offers.
“Are you hungry?” I ask Jax, ignoring Jonas the best I can. It’s hard. I don’t know how but with his hair still a mess from sleep and holding Jax he is more attractive than ever. My body is reacting to him in a way that it shouldn’t be.
“Pancakes!” He squeals, clapping his hands.
“He’s been saying that over and over.”
“It’s his favorite.”
Jonas opens the door for me. I step out into the hallway, waiting for him.
“The kitchen.” He nods for me to walk. I look both ways.
“Which way?” I turn to look at him when he doesn't answer me. He stares at me for a moment.
“Left,” he finally says. I give him another one of my silent nods before heading left. Ignoring him is going to be harder than I thought.
Chapter 13
Jonas
Gran is gone this weekend to a spa in Beverly Hills, so the lacquered breakfast table is empty when we arrive. The staff, so utterly professional, doesn’t even blink when I ask for a highchair. It does take them a while to bring one out. In the meantime, I jostle Jax on my lap.
“What does he eat?”
“Pretty much anything,” Darby says, smoothing a napkin across her lap. “Are you sure there isn’t a different table we can eat at? Jax is sort of messy.”
“It’s fine. There are more tables where this one comes from,” I lie. It’s an antique original but if it’s not meant to be eaten on, what’s the point of owning it?
A staff member comes forward and pours Darby a cup of coffee. She’s visibly startled, as if she’s never experienced the Willits’ treatment before. “She’ll have three scoops of sugar.”
“Yes, Mr. Willits.” The staff bops her head and spoons the sweetener in while Darby watches wide-eyed.
“I can spoon my own sugar,” she exclaims.
“Ah, but Madame prefers for us to do it,” the staff explains.
“Madame?” Darby tries out the word as if she’s never said it before.
“Gran. My grandmother. She runs this place and if it had been any other weekend, she’d be here. Thankfully, she’s not.”
“But I am here,” announces a sharp voice.
We all turn, including Jax, at this. My heart sinks at the sight of Gran sweeping in, an angry glint in her eyes.