Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“That’s not my intention, but adult relationships are complicated, and sometimes even though we don’t intend for them to fail, they don’t work out.”
She had no clue that even her mother and I had struggled.
“Is Sadie still gonna go on dates for her job?”
Yeah. Sore subject.
“Not real ones.”
“Because you’re her boyfriend now?” She smiled.
I took a few seconds to let that word sink in. “Boyfriend.” Jesus, I hadn’t been someone’s boyfriend in ages.
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
“Is she still gonna train Marmaduke?”
Scratching my chin, I said, “I get the impression she likes spending time with you and the Duke, so I bet you can convince her to keep taking him out with you.”
She sighed. “Alright, Daddy.”
I squeezed her knee. “No more questions?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll come get you to leave soon.”
As I was walking out the door, she stopped me. “Wait.”
“Yeah?”
“I do have one more question.”
“Shoot.”
“Can I get the big box of Milk Duds at the movies?”
I chuckled. “We’ll see.”
Another wave of relief hit me as I left her room. That had gone way better than I’d anticipated. I hoped nothing would happen to jinx it.
Birdie ended up really enjoying the Disney movie we watched. As for me, I really enjoyed holding Sadie’s hand as I sat between them. Not to mention I’d been so busy taking care of everything over the past several years, I’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone who was looking out for me. Sadie would do subtle things like move the hair off my face or brush crumbs off my shirt. She definitely had a very protective instinct. And I had to say, I loved being looked after by a beautiful woman.
It was too soon to have Sadie spend the night with Birdie home, but I wanted nothing more than to have her in my bed tonight. I’d have to figure out a way to get alone time with her, whether it be in the middle of the day or by having Magdalene do a few overnights here and there.
When we left the theater and Sadie took Birdie down the hall to the bathroom, it occurred to me that it was the first time in ages that I didn’t have to stand outside the door while my daughter used a public women’s restroom to make sure she was okay. That was definitely one thing I’d taken for granted when Amanda was alive.
After the movie, the three of us went to a restaurant of Birdie’s choosing and, as usual, she chose fondue.
My daughter dipped a piece of bread into the melted cheese as she looked up at Sadie, who was sitting next to her.
“Don’t you like fondue, Sadie?” she asked.
Sadie seemed to be enjoying watching Birdie eat more than enjoying the food herself. “You know . . . you might not believe this, but I have never had fondue before tonight.”
Birdie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Whoa. How come?”
“I know. Seems crazy, right? I never really started going out to eat until I moved to the city, so I had a lot of catching up to do. Still catching up, I guess.”
“Your daddy never took you out to eat?”
“We didn’t have a lot of money growing up. So my dad preferred to cook at home.”
“Your daddy could cook?” Birdie looked at me with an impish grin. “Mine can’t.”
My shoulders shook from laughter. “Thanks for that, sweetheart.”
Sadie chimed in. “Yeah, but your daddy has so many other great qualities. He’s smart and witty and an excellent businessman. So, if he could cook, that would make him, like . . . perfect . . . and no one is perfect.” She winked at me, and it made me want to leap across the table and devour her beautiful lips.
“That’s true,” Birdie agreed. “He’s smart and really nice and tells really good bedtime stories off the top of his head.”
“See . . .” Sadie smiled.
Birdie’s eyes brimmed with curiosity. “So, what kinds of things did your dad cook for you?”
“My dad has a really big garden, so he’d make all kinds of things with vegetables. Tomato sauce for homemade pizza, fried zucchini . . . stuff like that.”
“Zucchini!” Birdie scrunched her nose. “I don’t love vegetables. I only love olives.”
“Birdie wishes her dad would grow cookies in the garden, right, sweetie?” I said.
Sadie pointed her finger to her chin. “Hmm, we’ll have to find some creative ways to get you to eat your vegetables, Birdie.” She raised her brow. “Do you like shakes?”
“I love them. Especially with ice cream.”
“I’ll bet you I can sneak vegetables into a delicious shake, and you won’t even know they’re there.”
Birdie looked skeptical. “Really?”
“Yup. In fact, I make them all the time for myself, and I can’t even taste the spinach.”