Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
“Johnny, he can’t. He’s a messy eater. Your car is going to be ruined,” Winnie tries to switch things up.
“It’s a car, not a museum, mi esposa.” The words my wife slip off my tongue. I’m back in her presence for less than twenty minutes, and it’s like time hasn’t passed between us. “I’d rather not sweat my balls off, and I’m sure you both could use a reprieve. Not going to complain if he conks out, either, Winnie. We’ll get to talk, and you can tell me what’s happening.”
“Fine, but you’re going to hate me.” She’s at war with herself. “Want a ride to the car, Seb?” She opens her arms, and he leaps up. I grab her bag, following her to where we’re parked.
“Not as much as I’ve hated myself,” I murmur to myself. Clearly, she hears me, judging by the way her body locks up.
“We’ve both made mistakes, me more than you, and I promise we’ll talk, but it has to be when he’s asleep. I also need to get the show on the road because time is not in my favor.”
“I no nap,” Seb interjects.
“You’re not napping, big guy. Come on. Let’s get outta the heat.” I guide them to my car, lighter than I’ve been in four years. Winnie isn’t leaving, which means she’s a package deal, a problem that doesn’t bother me in the least.
“See, I big boy.”
“Okay, fine, you are.” She plays with him while we’re walking. The two of them clearly have a tight bond, which only makes me wonder how long she’s been raising him without Melanie, making the plot thicken further.
7
WINNIE
“He’s asleep,” I say with a sigh of relief. The whole time we’ve been sitting in Johnny’s car, I’ve been worried about Sebastian smearing his apple sauce on the tinted windows or luxurious leather seats. There were a few close calls but luckily, I keep wet wipes in my bag for occurrences like this. Sebastian squeezed his pouch a bit too much, and when he said, “Oopsies,” in his little boy voice, I spurred into action. Johnny looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and said accidents happen. Still, I struggled the entire time, though in the back of my mind, I knew Johnny wouldn’t bat an eye at a mess. His family is full of shenanigans, which includes spills, laughter, yelling but doing it with love, and even a couple of tussles in the form of fist fighting.
I remember the first time he brought me home to meet his family. We’d only started dating a few weeks before. Johnny warned me that it’d be chaos, except I wasn’t expecting so much. I came from a family that isn’t a family. My parents were not the greatest at showing affection, and when my sister and I hit our teenage years, it was feast or famine. My sister floundered, and anytime I tried to help her, she’d try to bring me down with her. I kept my distance for a while, until she called, begging for help, and I felt obligated to help her because blood is thicker than water, or so the saying goes.
“He’s a good kid, Winn.” Johnny turns his big body in his seat. He’s in jeans and a tee. Gone is the suit he’d usually wear on a Monday morning. The best part about Sundays were relaxed Johnny days, when he didn’t answer his phone if it was business oriented, we’d lounge around, get ready later in the day, make an appearance at his parents’ house, and sometimes we’d meet his friends for a drink, or I’d head home, and he’d do his thing with the guys at the club. I’d wince at the fact that Sebastian is currently clutching a suit jacket in his fists, except Johnny chooses that exact moment to riffle around on the floorboard. He pulls out a hoodie and spreads it over Seb’s prone body.
“Thanks, for the compliment and for covering him up. He runs hot every which way until he conks out, then he wants to be completely wrapped up in every blanket we own.” I watch as Johnny’s lips tip up in a smile, the crinkles at his eyes showcasing his dark chocolate eyes and his clean-shaven jaw.
“Only speaking the truth. Figure we’ve got a lot to catch up on. How long you think he’ll be asleep?” His hand glides through his hair before he lowers the air conditioning to where it’s not blowing the skin off our bodies.
“Maybe twenty minutes, and that’s pushing it. He slept hard last night. Usually, he’ll kick me here or there when he moves, but he didn’t, so I’m imagining this will be a power nap before he will be back to go, go, go.” I’m not sure where to go from here. There’s so much to say, so much to do. I guess at least he’s not pissed at me, for now.