Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Hey guys,” I say. “They’re going home soon. It’s not quite time yet.”
Several faces turn disappointed. Magnus comes over and grabs the hand at my side, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
“I like your work clothes,” he says, smiling warmly.
There’s nothing special about my Peanuts scrubs, but somehow, he makes me feel pretty anyway.
“Thank you. And thanks for the flowers, too. My coworkers may try to steal you from me.”
“Won’t work. What time are you off?”
“Seven.”
“Who’s with the boys?”
“Lulu, one of the teenage girls who lives on our street. Jules will take over when she gets there at five.”
“Would it be okay if I took them out for dinner?”
He’s still holding my hand. Some of his teammates are glancing at us, and I like that he hasn’t let go.
“Of course. They’d love that. But Eli will ask you to quiz him on spelling words. The spelling bee is tomorrow.”
“I can do that.” He knits his brows together, speaking softly. “Is it okay for me to kiss you here?”
“Yes.”
He gives me a soft, sweet kiss, releasing my hand.
“I’ll text Lulu and let her know you’re picking the boys up later. What time should I say you’ll be there?”
He looks at his watch. “Four thirty. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay.”
I practically float back to the nurses’ station. Magnus has a demanding schedule, but he always makes sure I know I’m important to him. He likes simple things, like I do.
A movie or a board game with the boys is a fun evening for us. He showed us how to make Swedish meatballs last week, and he brought over some salty licorice his mom sent him that the boys tried and pretended to like.
It’s horrible. I told him I was calling the police after taking one bite, and he told me American root beer is a crime against cuisine.
Root beer is delicious, so we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.
Leo walks out of the room he and Mara were in, a hospital transport person rolling Mara out in a wheelchair behind him.
“Time for my roll of shame,” Mara cracks. “Thanks for not making me feel like a dipshit.”
Kari walks up to stand beside me, saying, “You’ll be back before you know it. Call us if you have questions.”
“Thank you. Thanks, Blair.”
Once they’re out of earshot, Kari says, “She’s adorable.”
“And hilarious.”
“How do you know her?”
“We met through my sister. She’s a friend.”
“How’s your charting going?”
“The stars have aligned and I’m completely caught up.”
She arches her brows. “We just might get out of here on time tonight.”
We come close to leaving on time. It’s seven twenty when I leave the hospital, and seven forty-five when I pull into my garage.
Magnus’s Trailblazer is in the driveway, a light layer of snow covering it. When I walk in the house, the spicy, savory smell of Chinese food makes my mouth water.
I hear laughter in the basement. When I walk downstairs, I see Eli dancing.
My son Eli, the shyest kid I know, is dancing on some kind of mat, following lights that are bouncing from square to square to lead his feet.
“Go, go!” Magnus calls from the couch.
“No!” Jules howls from a recliner. “Don’t break my record! Aunt Jules is the dancing queen!”
Coop laughs, running over to hug me when he sees me.
Magnus stands and smiles at me. I told him I’m not ready for kissing in front of my kids, so he always keeps a safe distance.
“Hey, there’s food upstairs,” Jules says. “Magnus ordered enough for an army.”
“That’s what you do,” he says, shrugging.
“No!” Eli cries, stopping his dance.
“Dude, that was still really good,” Jules says. “You almost broke my record.”
“I want to do it again,” he says, which is classic Eli.
“No, it’s my turn,” Coop says.
“Blair, get this,” Jules says. “Magnus thought we’d all want to share our Chinese food.”
He rolls his eyes. “Because that’s what you do.”
“But you asked all of us what we wanted.”
“Right, because I wanted to make sure we had some of what everyone wanted. Then I got a bunch more stuff, so we could all share. Or not, since you almost bit my hand off over the General Tso’s chicken.”
“Bro, if you want General Tso’s chicken, order some.”
“I did—I got three of them.”
“I’m starving,” I say. “You said there’re leftovers?”
“So many leftovers,” Jules says. “I’m going to make sure my dance record stays safe; you guys go hang out and eat.”
Magnus and I go upstairs, and once we’re alone in the kitchen, he wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me.
“Hi,” I say against his lips.
“Hi. How was your day?”
“It was long, but good.”
He kisses me again, then releases me and gestures to the island.
“There should be something there you’ll like.”
It’s an understatement. There are multiple orders of fried rice, lo mein, egg rolls, crab Rangoon, and General Tso’s chicken.
“This is going to last us for days,” I say. “Thanks for getting it.”