Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
The baby monitor was on. After checking on Logan one last time, I was in my bed with a wicked fantasy of just what Graham could do with those capable lips and hands. The absolute worst part was that it didn’t even quelch the thirst he built up inside me. If anything, it just made me weak—weak in the knees, weak in the heart, and definitely weak in the mind.
That’s probably why I’m hemming and hawing about my hair, clothes, and whatever else I can fidget with. It’d be really helpful if Logan woke up and requested his breakfast like he usually does. Sometimes, it’ll be waffles, cereal, bagels, whatever he wishes I usually keep on hand. Besides Logan being extremely smart for his age, he’s particular about what he has to eat, minus ice cream—that’s the one thing he’ll do anything to get his hands on. Otherwise, it’s a healthy and nutritiously balanced breakfast. I look at the clock one last time knowing Graham is beyond punctual and will be here in the next few minutes. What I was thinking of taking him up on his offer to watch Logan, I have no idea. I do know that doughnuts aren’t going to cut it.
“Mommy.” Logan’s little voice comes through the baby monitor. He’s probably all kinds of confused, and the concussion isn’t helping. My creature of habit is all out of whack this morning.
“Coming, Logan. I’m just going to unlock the door for Mr. Graham, then I’ll be right there.” Normally, I’d wake him up, or he’d meet me in the kitchen, which almost makes me worry that he’ll need to go back to the doctor.
“Okay, I’m going to lie back down, then.” My worry amplifies. It’ll be sheer luck if I get through the whole day without breaking down and calling Graham eighty times or coming home during my lunch break.
“That’s fine.” The doorbell rings right when I reach the front door. I don’t bother looking out the side window but unlock the door, wanting to hurry up and get back to Logan.
“Morning, Faith.” Graham is wearing a gray cotton shirt that’s stretched over his muscular chest, dark jeans molded to him like a second skin down to his rugged boots. It’s the smile that has my body melting into a puddle of goo.
“Morning. Help yourself to coffee. Logan just woke up but isn’t getting out of bed, so I’m going to go see if something’s wrong.” I turn around, practically sprinting towards Logan’s room.
“Is he sick?” Graham is hot on my heels. I’m thankful he knows I’m in no need to make small talk.
“No idea, but he’s usually up and moving, so I’m not sure,” I tell him over my shoulder. I stop when I make it to the doorway of Logan’s room and breathe a sigh of relief seeing that he’s sitting up in bed, pillows stacked behind his back, the remote in his hand, and a smile plastered on his handsome face.
“Good morning, Mommy and Mr. Graham.” His eyes slide to ours. The spot where they shaved his head to staple the wound still kills me.
“Thank God,” I whisper.
“Hey, there, champ. Sleep well, did you?” Graham takes over the conversation I’m clearly not ready for.
“Like a rock. Mom, do you think I can have pumpkin waffles, bacon, and eggs?” This is why I keep frozen waffles at the ready when we make them on the weekends. I never know what he’ll ask for and if I’ll have time to make it during the week.
“Good morning. Yep, I saved some from last weekend, though you’ll have to get up and eat in the kitchen. Syrup doesn’t go well with bed sheets.” I sweep the hair off his forehead on his good side. Logan gives me his signature crooked grin with his two front teeth missing.
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” And just like that, we’re dismissed. Graham chuckles. His hand moves to my lower back, guiding me out towards the kitchen. Once we’re out of sight, those long purposeful fingers of his glide beneath my shirt, fingertips searing my skin and bringing more feelings to the surface.
“Leave it to Logan to be injured and be more reserved than anyone else I know,” Graham says when we get to the kitchen.
“There’s never a dull moment. I put the spare booster seat in the living room. He’ll tell you what he’d like for lunch and snacks. Don’t let him fool you with being allowed ice cream for lunch. Other than that, Logan is really easy going. The hard part will be for him not to be on his tablet.” I’m moving around the kitchen getting everything ready, knowing that time is of the essence and I’ll soon be leaving Logan with Graham.
“Breathe, babe. You have a phone, I have a phone. Something happens, I’ll call.” Graham wraps his arms around me from behind, giving me that solace I so clearly need, and for the first time, I let him take some of the burden off my shoulders.