Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“He’s not really eating fire, Mar,” I said. “Don’t ever try to do that.”
“He is, Daddy!” She pointed and stood up. “Look at him, he’s eating it.”
“It’s like a magic trick. He’s not eating fire.”
“Fire would burn his mouth, Marley,” Spencer said, shaking his head.
“Well, if it isn’t Holt Sellers,” a female voice said.
I looked up to find a dark-haired woman smiling at me. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Wearing a dark miniskirt and a slinky black top, she looked like she was dressed for a night at a club rather than an evening on the lawn at The Sleepy Moose.
“I’m Tara Johnson. I was one year behind you in high school,” she said.
I stood to shake her hand. “Yeah, I remember you. Good to see you again.”
She brushed her long bangs away from her eyes. “I heard you moved back. Figured I’d run into you eventually.”
“Yep.” I gestured at Spencer. “This is my son Spencer and my daughter Marley. Guys, this is...” I looked at Tara. “Is it Miss or Mrs.?”
She laughed loudly and waved a hand. “Oh, it’s Miss. I haven’t found anyone who made me want to settle down...yet.”
She wasn’t subtle, that was for damn sure. I’d figured there would be single women in the Beard who wanted to try to land a man with an eight-figure bank account, but right in front of my kids?
“Miss Johnson,” I said.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Johnson,” my kids said.
“Aw.” She put a hand on her chest. “Such great manners. How old are you guys?”
“I’m six,” Marley said, still gazing at the fire eater.
“Nine,” Spencer said.
“Oh.” Tara looked at me and bit her lip. “My two favorite numbers. Especially when you put them together.”
Classy. I gave her a tight grin, wishing I knew how to make her move along.
“That makes fifteen,” Spencer said.
“Yes, it does, sweetie,” Tara giggled and touched a fingertip to the tip of his nose.
Spencer scowled in my direction. I cleared my throat and sat back down.
“It was great seeing you, Tara. Take care.”
“Shea!”
Spencer jumped out of his chair and ran across the lawn. Shea had just walked out, and he slid his hand into hers. I about fell out of my chair. My son hadn’t let his mom hold his hand in years.
Spencer gazed adoringly up at Shea, and she smiled down at him. I felt a catch in my chest. He kept his emotions closer to the vest than Marley did, and he pretended to be fine with not having his mom in his life anymore.
But seeing the way he looked at Shea cut me deep. She fulfilled something in him that I’d never be able to. I loved my kids more than anything, but I couldn’t nurture them the way a mother figure could.
Shea had a folded-up lawn chair under one arm, and she set it up next to Spencer’s and waved at me and Marley.
“Hi guys, how are you? Hi, Tara.”
“That man just ate fire, Shea,” Marley said, still spellbound.
“Ouch. I hope someone gave him some water after.”
Tara was clearly trying to decide whether to stay or go. She leaned down to Marley’s level.
“Hey, do you want to get some ice cream?”
Marley’s expression brightened and she looked at me. “Daddy, can I?”
There was a big window area open at the back of the lodge where people could buy drinks, snacks and ice cream. But there wasn’t a chance in hell I was letting someone I’d just met take my kid several hundred feet away from me.
Better to be overprotective than not protective enough. Even in my small hometown.
“I’m taking them over to get some snacks in a little bit,” I said to Tara.
“Okay, well...it was nice seeing you,” she said, finally giving up and walking away.
I sat back in my chair, relieved she’d given up. I hadn’t foreseen women using sexual innuendo in front of my kids, and I definitely didn’t like it.
“Maybe we should get some ice cream for the man who ate fire,” Marley said.
“That’s a great idea, peanut.”
We stood and I asked Shea and Spencer if they wanted anything.
“Shea loves strawberry ice cream cones,” Spencer said.
Shea grinned. “That’s true, but I’ll go get one in a little bit.”
“One strawberry cone, coming up,” I said. “What about you, Spence?”
“Chocolate cone, please.”
Marley and I went to get the ice cream, and she only came close to dropping her dish of vanilla with blueberry topping and Spencer’s cone twice on the walk back. I’d almost made it when I noticed Shea’s cone was about to drip, so I swiped that spot with my tongue.
“I gave it a little lick so it wouldn’t drip on you,” I said as I handed it to her.
“Thanks. It looks delicious.”
“You can try mine if you want to,” Spencer said as his sister handed him his cone.