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.” Her eyes open, voice soft and sweet.
“Hold that thought.” I grip her hips and lift her up. She almost lets out a squeal but thinks better of it. Instead, she loops her arms around my neck, fingers jacking with my hair. She’s obsessed with my curls. I pull back, knowing this can’t go further, and walk us through the hallway until we’re in the kitchen.
“Give it to me,” I say, plopping her on the counter, crowding her space, wedging myself between her spread thighs. The smooth skin of her legs is on display, and I know if I slid my hand up them, I’d find nothing on her, not a stitch of anything beneath my shirt.
“Holy shit, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. How long were you going to let me sleep?” she blurts out, looking at the clock on the microwave.
“However long you needed. It’s not lost on me you’ve neglected a few aspects of your life. There’s no reason you can’t take a day for yourself and allow your body what it needs. I had it handled, and whatever I forgot, you can pick up. The clothes and toiletries I picked up for you are in the office. Didn’t want to wake you with making a bunch of noise.” Her face softens, worry leaving her face, and she’s figuring out that even with an added addition in our life, I’ve got her. No, fuck that shit. I’ve got us, all of us.
“I can’t believe everything you’ve done. I’d have helped.” Her fingers are twisting the curls.
“Well aware. Also wanted to do something for you. For years, you’ve been doing it all on your own. Never again.” Her stomach growls with my statement. “Stay.” I turn around, move to the place on the counter with the coffee pot, and pour her a cup, then grab the creamer she prefers out of the fridge, coconut caramel, with a packet of sweetener, grab a croissant, then walk back to her with my hands full.
“Thank you. Those two words aren’t enough. I know I’ve got a lot to still unpack with the aftermath. I’m going to take it day by day, see what happens in Georgia, and go from there.” She takes a sip of her coffee, hair a knotted mess, face still sleep ridden with the lines across her cheek from the sheets, and the only thing she did besides brush her teeth and slip on my shirt was to find me.
“Speaking of Georgia, we’re wheels up tomorrow. Tysen is flying us on a private jet.” She arches her eyebrows while going from her coffee to the croissant, then sinks her teeth into the buttery treat and lets out a moan. Jesús Cristo. “Matthew has already talked to the people up there, scheduling an emergency hearing, and he has no doubt that we’ll be able to make a return trip by tomorrow evening. I’d rather Seb be comfortable, plus we can pack whatever we need instead of shipping it back.”
“He did all that already?” She swallows, reminding me of last night when I watched her swallow my length whole. Mierda. Trying to hold back the need to take this into another room and lock the door is getting harder to control.
“Yep, and the girls want a night out. Which means Mom will have to watch Seb. She can do that here, or he can spend that night at their place, whichever you prefer. It’ll also be happening at the club. The VIP spot is sectioned off, so I can still see you from my office.” I take a moment, allowing her to finish her pastry.
“Okay, he can stay at your parents’ house as long as they’re good with that. Once tomorrow is figured out, I’m going to look at daycares and nip to the gallery to see if my job is available. Highly doubtful with how long I’ve been gone, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.” Winnie could be a stay-at-home aunt/mom; it wouldn’t bother me in the least. Except I know the fight that would ensue. She feels compelled to help where she can. She also likes her independence, and I’m not going to snuff that out.
“They’d be stupid not to take you back.” I grab another croissant then return to my place between her thighs.
“You’re biased, and you were not kidding about putting weight back on me,” she balks yet takes the pastry and has another bite.
“I’m your husband. It’s my job to be on your side. Already told you, but I’ll say it again. I love you no matter what. Except when you’re not eating because stress is worrying you from the inside out. Speaking of, when Mom and Dad brought Seb home, she took one look in the refrigerator and ran out the door. She’s currently dragging Dad to the grocery store and promised a feast for dinner.”