Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Our hearts beat in unison. This was where Beau and I excelled. His forehead rested against mine. “You’re still breathin’ heavy.”
“It’ll be fine,” I whispered. “Listen to me. Our money’s making money. You have access to it all. The joint account information is in the safe with our wills and other important documents. I’ve always been an us guy, even when it didn’t seem like it.” I tightened my arms around Beau when he tried to move off me. His familiar gaze set on me.
“I’m sorry about…” I covered his mouth from saying anything more.
“Carter didn’t pay for anything, but I like how you wanted to be the one caring for me. We have UPS health insurance, which is still pretty good, but I also pay for a secondary insurance policy for all of us. That information is in the safe too. We’ll probably have to pay for the therapy done at home, at least part of it.”
Beau managed to break my hold, bringing me to my side, facing him. He propped his head on one hand and rested the other in the dip leading to my hip.
“I have my 401K. If we need to, we can take out a loan against it.”
“You’re a sweet guy...” I started, only to have Beau laugh in my face.
“Says no one ever,” he scoffed.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said honestly. “But I love the way you love me. Always looking out for me. I’m important to you.”
Beau tried his best to hide a grin. It didn’t work.
PART 2
16: The Huff
Dash/Beau
Dash
June 2023
“Chop, chop,” I hollered from the bottom of the staircase. “We’re in the final stretch.”
“What does chop, chop mean?” Mia asked from the top of the stairs on the second floor, inhibited from her descent due to the professional-grade gates we had installed at the top and bottom of the staircase. “And final stretch? Does that mean the reporter person’s almost here?”
“It means he wants us to get downstairs for a once-over to make changes before the Huffington Post reporter arrives,” Livie explained, coming to stand beside her sister, seemingly distracted. Her concentration and fingers worked deftly at adjusting the midsection of her dress. “I can’t get my belt to lay properly. I don’t like wrinkles, Daddy. Trade me belts, Mia.”
“Liv, I’ll help you,” Beau called from somewhere on the second floor.
With a sigh, I dropped my chin to my chest as Mia and Livie left the gate to make the wardrobe change. Seconds ago, I’d only needed four more children plus my husband at the gate to get my whole family downstairs. Now, we were back to seven missing members.
“Fisher, go stand by the gate and keep your hands tucked in your pockets. Hunter, stay by my side. West, get your boots on, man. I shouldn’t have to ask you twice.”
Hearing my love wrangle our children into order sent happiness shooting through my system.
“Like Fisher can ever do that,” Ava said loudly.
“Maybe today he can,” Mia, always the positive one, argued on his behalf.
I was compelled to trot up the stairs to save my little champ. Fisher was our overactive two-and-a-half-year-old. Being made to stand alone would be a fate worse than death for him.
Beau and I now had six vibrant children, all bursting with uniquely different personalities. West was like Beau’s mini-me, mirroring him in looks and words—our pint-size cowboy in training. Since West was the first male in either the Richmond-Brooks or Lee families, Scott also had a pretty solid influence on my oldest son. Only time would tell how that might play out.
Behind Fisher in age came Hunter, who was biologically Beau’s son. They had a year between them. Whatever trouble Fisher found himself in, Hunter was there with him too. One of Fisher’s favorite pastimes was to tackle Hunter. Hunter was taller and bigger than Fisher who was my biological son. They’d happily roll around on the floor no matter where we were, wrestling until pieces of furniture and decorations lay in rubble.
They’d even knocked over a cereal-stocked endcap at the grocery store while in Amelia’s care. She adored those little guys but had developed a strict policy against going out in public with them unless additional adult supervision came along for the ride.
Fisher and Hunter were a handful for Duke and Dixie too. By the dog’s very nature, they couldn’t resist the urge to join in on their fun. Other times, the dogs were vigilant watchdogs, barking to alert us whenever the boys took their fun times too far.
Who knew that having two boys so close in age could create such chaos?
I hoisted Fisher over the gate, placing him on his feet. “Hold my hand. We’ll go down together.”
Hunter came sprinting toward me, eager for a lift too. I left Fisher at the gate at the bottom step. “Stay here, hands in pockets. I’m going back for Hunter.” West was now standing right beside Hunter. Good, three down, but the wrong three. Two minutes of waiting time and these three would make my super clean house a mess. I stared at Fisher, waiting for any sort of confirmation that he heard me.