Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I chuckle and nod. “Am I that obvious?”
“You remind me of myself,” he says with a shrug. “A man who’s in love and wants everything with the woman who’s captured his heart.”
“Dad, what are you going on about?” Kinsley asks, appearing out of nowhere. “Shane, let’s go,” she says. “We need to get started.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her, following her back.
“I was thinking for today’s session, we’d do something a little different,” she says, closing the door behind her, but it’s been nearly forty-eight hours since I’ve seen her, and the only thing I want to do is kiss her.
So, I do just that.
Spinning her around, I gently press her against the counter, and holding her face, I press my lips to hers. She tastes like the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, and I realize she’s chewing on a Sour Patch Kid.
“You stealing my favorite candy?” I ask when I pull back.
“You left them here, and I had a craving.” She shrugs. “I missed you,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.
I lift her onto the counter and step between her legs. “I missed you so much fucking more.”
I trail my tongue along the seam of her lips, loving that she tastes like my favorite snack, and then run my tongue along her neck.
She tilts her head to the side, giving me better access to kiss my way up to her ear.
“I think we should forget the tattoo and go back to your place so I can spend the next couple of hours inside of you,” I tell her.
“Not happening,” she says, pushing me back. “Sit. I have a cool design, but since it’s not one you suggested, I’m going to draw it with a marker first, and then if you like it, I’ll tattoo it.”
“Okay.” I sit in the chair. “But you know I trust you, right? Anything you want to draw on me, I’m going to be good with it.”
Kinsley grins, her eyes twinkling with happiness. “I love you, Shane.”
“I love you.” I grip her hips and pull her into my lap because I can’t help myself. “One more kiss, and then you can draw on me.”
I reach around and fist her hair, pulling her face toward mine, and kiss her with everything in me, hoping like hell she knows just how damn much I love and want and need her in my life.
When we break apart, her eyes are glassed over, and I’d bet anything, if I reached into her pants, she’d be wet. But I don’t because if I did that, there would definitely be no drawing on me today.
She climbs off me and sits on the rolling seat and then gets to work. While she draws on my arm, she’s quiet, concentrating on whatever it is she’s creating. It doesn’t take long, and once she’s done, she steps back and smiles at me, looking almost nervous.
“Okay,” she says, handing me a mirror. “Take a look.”
But before I can look, she snatches the mirror back. “Actually, I’m going to take a picture of it, so it’s not backward.”
She pulls her phone out and takes a picture, then hands it to me. The first thing I notice is that she drew Sour Patch Kids.
“That’s you and me and Taylor,” she says, pointing to each one.
“That’s cute. I love it.” But then I notice that there’s a fourth one. It’s smaller than the others, making it look like a Sour Patch Baby instead of a kid.
I look at the image she drew, trying to wrap my head around what it means.
And then it hits me—a Sour Patch Baby.
“Are you pregnant?”
I glance up at her, and she nods, the most beautiful smile lighting up her face.
“I am,” she admits, taking my hand and placing it on her belly. It’s still flat, but the thought that there’s a baby growing in there has me wanting to never let go.
“I had it confirmed when I went to the doctor to get on birth control.” She smirks. “Looks like you have some kind of super sperm,” she says with a watery laugh as she pulls a piece of paper out of her back pocket and hands it to me. It’s a sonogram photo. “And our little Sour Patch is due December 16.”
Holy shit, she’s pregnant. Against all odds, we created a miracle.
“I wish I had been there,” I tell her, looking at the photo. It’s just a grainy gray-and-white image with a tiny speckle in the middle since she’s not that far along, but she’s fucking pregnant with my baby.
“You know what this means, right?” I say, setting the photo aside and standing.
“That we’re going to have a baby?” she smarts.
“That you’re moving in with me.” I grip the curves of her hips and pull her toward me. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”