Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Agreed.” She swallows and nods, the set of her jaw loosening a notch. “Thanks.” Her eyes flick up to mine and away. “You know I’m not mad.”
“Didn’t think you were.” I tip my head toward Grayce, who is laser-focused on the corner of the sales counter like it insulted her. “She’s planning to fight the register.”
“That register had it coming.” Maddie breathes out a tiny laugh, and color creeps back into her face. “Okay. We’ve got the basics. Socks. Onesies. Next up, a beanie with maybe—maybe—bear ears.”
“We’re making concessions.” I give a mock sigh. “I’ll tell the dinosaur pajamas we’ve got a chance.”
Maddie snorts and rolls the stroller toward the sock wall, and I follow like a good dad and shopping partner.
We build a small mountain of clothing. Socks with little grippers shaped like stars, soft leggings in charcoal, rose, and a yellow Maddie calls mustard that she swears will be “adorable with the right top.” And of course, those confetti sneakers we both keep pretending we’re not already in love with.
At the counter, the saleswoman scans our items, periodically leaning over the counter to make silly faces at Grayce, who stares back at her with suspicion.
As we’re walking to the car, Maddie says, “Don’t forget the social worker visit Thursday afternoon.”
“How could I forget?” I say, noting only to myself that this is as big an event as the playoffs.
It’s the day Maddie and I will be evaluated for our fitness to be Grayce’s adoptive parents.
“They’ll ask the usual. Safety measures. Daily routine. How we split care. Things like that.”
“Do we need to prep anything specific?”
“Most of it is already in the file—guardianship order, Gray’s consent to adoption. The visit is more observation than interrogation.”
I smile down at her. “We’ll nail it.”
“Of course we will,” she says, and we bump our fists together.
When we reach the car, Maddie lifts Grayce out of the stroller and I fold it up. “Oh, one other thing.” Her gaze catches mine. “Before finalization, the court will ask what we want to do about her last name.”
“Right.” I knew it was coming, and I’d been wondering how it would feel to talk about it. It feels easier than I expected. “What do you think?”
Maddie’s fingers find Grayce’s knee and give it a gentle squeeze. She doesn’t look at me when she says, “I think Grayce should keep Donovan.”
Relief swells within. “I absolutely agree.”
Surprise, then relief breaks over her face like a shift in light, culminating in a sunrise of a smile. “You do?”
“Thought about Kowpolopowski for like, half a second.” I scrub a hand over my jaw. “But it didn’t sit right.” Maddie laughs and I grin back at her. “She’s Gray’s daughter. She’s a Donovan.”
Maddie’s eyes go bright and wet and then steady. She nods. “Yes. And we don’t need her name to match ours to know she’s ours.”
“Preach it, sister.”
I move to put the stroller in the trunk, but the look on Maddie’s face causes me to pause. Gone is the lighthearted vibe and her gaze is somber.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Maddie swallows. Shakes her head. “Nothing’s wrong but, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not making it a thing.” She lifts one shoulder. “For not trying to erase him.”
“I’d never do that,” I say, and I mean it so much I hear the edge in my own voice. “He gave me her.” I look down at Grayce, who’s staring across the parking lot at a little girl carrying a balloon. “He gave us her.” I clear my throat and lighten it. “Also, Donovan looks sick on the back of a toddler jersey.”
Maddie’s laugh cracks the tension cleanly. “Practical and sentimental. Who knew?”
“Tell no one,” I deadpan. “It’ll ruin my brand.”
“What is your brand?” She tilts her head, eyes glinting. We’re back in teasing mode. “Brooding winger with a heart of gold?”
“Painfully handsome, devastatingly humble.”
She tilts her head, considering. “Nah.”
“Beast in the sack?” I suggest.
The blush returns like it’s on a string. “God, you’re insufferable.”
“Persistent,” I correct, which earns me an eye roll I catalog as another small win.
CHAPTER 21
Maddie
I should be in my room. I should be alone, curled under my blanket, pretending I don’t hear the shower running down the hall. Pretending my body isn’t tuned to every sound he makes, every footstep, every scrape of a drawer.
But I’m not in my room.
I’m in the doorway of his, barefoot, pulse skittering like it’s on thin ice. And when Atlas looks up from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed—hair damp, T-shirt clinging to his shoulders, his gaze steady and unreadable—I don’t turn away.
I step inside and let the door click shut behind me.
“Rules still apply,” I tell him, though my voice comes out husky. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
His mouth curves, wolfish. “Sure.”
And then he moves.
There’s no hesitation, no waiting. His hands are on me before I can think, gripping the hem of my tank top and dragging it upward. The cotton whispers over my ribs, and then it’s gone, tossed somewhere I don’t care about. My bra follows and I gasp at the cool air on my skin, but it lasts only a heartbeat before the heat of his gaze takes over.