Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“Are you hungry?” Taryn asked Sunny. “I made Million Dollar Pasta. Have you ever had it before?”
“No.”
While he loved his baby girl and would do anything for her, Stone’s patience was currently running thin.
Taryn’s eyebrows pinched together. “No, you’re not hungry or no, you haven’t had it before?”
His daughter set her jaw and spouted, “Just no. No to you. No to this whole thing.”
For fuck’s sake. “All right, go up to your room and watch TV or somethin’ before you get grounded.”
“Grounded for what?” Sunny screeched.
Stone winced. “For whatever I want. Could start with that shitty attitude you got.”
“I don’t—”
He pointed toward the front of the house. “Upstairs. Will call you when we’re ready to eat.”
“But—”
“No. Upstairs. Now.”
With a grumble, Sunny jerked her backpack out of his hand and stomped away.
With his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to keep his shit together, he waited until he heard her bedroom door slam before turning back to Taryn.
She was now leaning back against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest, making her tits look bigger than they actually were. It also made him want to bury his face in her cleavage.
“She don’t like change.”
“Most people don’t.”
Stone’s eyes rose from her tits. “Kid gets anythin’ she needs, even shit she don’t. No reason for that bullshit.”
“She’s a child. And on that note…do you always curse like that in front of her?”
“Hard to avoid it. Anyway, she’s so used to hearin’ it, ain’t any big deal.”
“Unless she uses them herself where she shouldn’t. Like at school.”
“She don’t. Told her they’re big persons’ words and she ain’t allowed to use them.”
She leveled a skeptical look in his direction.
He shrugged. “Shit happens.”
He expected her to give him more shit about it, but instead, she changed the subject. “You seem very dedicated to her.”
“She’s my only nut nugget.”
She blinked a few times, then shook her head. If she stuck around long enough, she would get used to the shit he said and stop reacting.
“Were you there when she was born?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Wasn’t sure she was mine ’til I got the DNA results back.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Sheena said she was mine, but that baby coulda been anybody’s. If you knew the bitch, you’d know not to trust her. She bounced from dick to dick. She got me at a weak moment.”
Taryn cocked an eyebrow. “Did that weak moment have to do with alcohol?”
“Could be.”
“Does that mean you had no say in her name?”
Stone snorted. “Fuck no. As you heard, she fuckin’ loves it, too.”
“What would you have named her, then?”
“Durex.”
Taryn blinked in confusion again.
“Wrap.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A wrap. The thing you put on your dick so you don’t plant a seed in a bitch garden.” Maybe the woman didn’t use them.
After knocking up Sheena while he was trashed, he decided he’d never be without at least two in his wallet. He made sure he kept a shitload next to his bed at both the clubhouse and the house.
If he ever wanted another kid, he wanted to choose the mother, not have her choose him without him knowing.
“Do you get along with your ex?”
“Ain’t my ex. Just someone I nutted in durin’ a weekend-long pig roast. Ended up bein’ an expensive fuckin’ load.”
“I guess you didn’t take precautions.”
“Hard to do when you don’t even remember the fuckin’ part.”
“Sounds like a hard lesson to learn.”
“Sure as fuck was. It’s one thing to party and wake up hungover. It’s another to wake up with a goddamn bun in the oven. And a fuckin’ broken oven at that.”
When she turned back to stir whatever was in the pot plugged into the wall, he glanced around.
If there was a six-year-old boy in this house, he sure as fuck was quiet. The exact opposite of that day in the parking lot. “So, where’s your baby bird?”
She covered the pot with a glass lid and turned. “At the playground with my mother. She’ll drop him off in time for dinner. And please don’t call him that in front of him.”
Instead of agreeing, he asked, “She good with you movin’ in with me?”
“I didn’t move in with you, I…” She sighed. “I haven’t actually told her yet. I planned on letting her know when she drops him off.”
“She gonna freak?”
“Possibly. So, can you be on your best behavior?”
He ignored that, too. “Whataya makin’?”
Whatever it was smelled damn good. His stomach growled just getting a whiff of it.
A frown etched her face. “Million Dollar Pasta.”
“Oh, thought you were jerkin’ Sunny’s chain.”
“No, it’s a real dish. I’m keeping the meal simple tonight since I’m tired from unpacking. Since it’s a dish Wren loves and it’s easy to throw together in the crockpot, I hoped Sunny might like it, too.”
“When she ain’t bein’ a brat, she ain’t a picky eater.”
“Are you?”
“A brat? Sometimes. Picky? Nope. Like pussy, long as it ain’t rotten or moldy, gonna eat it.”