Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I don't know how many online articles I've read about kids being able to sense conflict in their parents even when they don't witness strife.
I watch Larkin as she brushes her troll doll's hair, only occasionally looking up at the cartoon playing on the television. She doesn't seem maladjusted, but I'm not a child psychologist either. I have no doubt I'll mess her up in some way no matter how hard I try to be the best parent I can be.
While waiting for Walker to show up, I pull my phone from the front pocket of my scrubs and instantly open the text thread from last night.
Walker texted me because I was so quick to get Larkin inside last night that we never discussed what time I needed him here. When I asked if he drove all the way back to the bar to get my number, he shocked me when he told me that he'd had it in his phone since the night I filled out the application in his office.
He was straightforward in his texts, and it left me feeling a little annoyed. I don't think the man has an ulterior motive, but he's always so flirty when we're together. It frustrated me that none of that came through last night.
His last text simply read sweet dreams.
That was it. He missed an opportunity to tell me to dream of him or mention maybe that he'll be dreaming of me.
A knock on the door has me clicking my phone off and shoving it back into my pocket like the man has x-ray vision and can see me staring down at his text the way a high school girl might.
I pull in a deep breath, knowing I don't have enough time to get the heat of embarrassment from my cheeks, before pulling open the door.
"It's time to go," I tell Larkin as I walk past her to open the front door.
She doesn't argue as she stands, placing her trolls in the small basket on the TV stand before grabbing her little coat from the sofa.
"Good morning," I tell Walker, who looks like he slept just fine last night.
I know it's not fair to sort of hate people who are less stressed than me, but I also can't stop those emotions sometimes either.
"For you, sweetheart," Walker says, leaning down and holding a boxed cupcake out for Larkin.
My sweet little girl just glares at him.
"She doesn't take anything from strangers," I explain. "Now if you had a p-u-p-p-y, then it might be a different story."
I shake my head, smiling when his eyes dart to mine as if he's considering doing just that.
"Not a chance," I tell him. "Larkin, you can have the cupcake.”
My little girl squeals in delight, tossing her jacket to the floor right at her feet before grabbing the box from Walker’s hand.
“What do we say to Walker?” I prompt.
“Tank ew, Walkey," she says over her shoulder as she rushes to her chair at the small dining table.
"Walkey?" he says. "I sort of love that."
We stand in silence, watching as Larkin devours the cupcake in record time.
"I normally wouldn't let her have that much sugar so early in the day, but it'll keep Nora on her toes."
He chuckles, his hand at his side but moving it just enough that he brushes his fingers against mine twice.
I look up at him. "Bribery may work with her, but it won't for me."
"Do I need to bribe you, baby?"
I swear, at a different time in my life, I would've rolled my eyes at the endearment, but I've been void of attention for so long, it hits me in the middle of my chest.
He has said it twice before—yes I'm counting—but this is the first time he’s said it when we weren't in the throes of passion.
"God, you're beautiful."
If I didn't see the truth in his eyes and the way he looks at me, I'd argue that he's lying. I'm not exactly a bridge troll, but my hair is in a knot on the top of my head, and I only added a little mascara this morning because I looked as exhausted as I felt. The dogs and cats don't care what we look like at work, and Corbin doesn't have rules about wearing makeup or anything like that.
"Thank you," I tell him, my eyes lighting up when a smile spreads across his face.
"I thought you were going to argue with me," he says, taking a half-step closer.
"Is that what you wanted? An argument?"
"Not this early in the morning." He leans in a little closer so he can speak without his voice traveling. "And not when I can't do something about that fire-hot attitude you like to give me."
I swallow, forcing myself to look away from him.
Larkin is done with her cupcake, but not quite finished licking the icing from her fingertips. I make my way across the room, grabbing a cloth napkin and wetting it in the sink before wiping her down. After hanging it over the edge of the sink to dry, I help her out of her chair and watch as she runs across the living room to pick up her jacket.