Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Enough,” I growl.
Mom’s lips twitch. “Well, if you do have a crush on her, that’s understandable. She’s delightful. Beautiful. Caring.”
She’s so much more than that. She’s fierce and strong. She speaks her mind and goes after what she wants. I met her last season when she performed at our arena one night, and yes, at first it was infatuation. As I got to know her during Luna’s lessons, the more the crush intensified. Then, after her almost wedding night, the crush swelled into…feelings.
Fucking feelings.
I hate feelings.
Especially the way they crashed and burned when we agreed to never speak of that night again.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, firmly shoving aside those pesky feelings. “I thought she was pretty. That’s it. No big deal.” If I don’t shut this down, my family will never let it go.
Mom tilts her head thoughtfully. “Would you like me to fire her?”
“What? No!” It comes out sharp, and the room goes quiet for a second. I look around the table with the feeling I’ve just walked into a trap.
Harvey chimes in, deadpan, “Of course, if you can live with yourself for firing her when she’s clearly grateful for the job and excellent for it, I think that’s fine too.”
“I mean, if it’s going to be too hard for you, Tyler,” Mom says, all calm practicality, “living with such a lovely, competent, capable woman. If you think you can’t handle it…”
I groan again, scrubbing a hand down the back of my neck. “Family,” I mutter.
Miles leans back in his chair, smirking. “Family is hard, little brother.”
“You’re telling me. And no, of course I don’t want you to fire her.” But that raises a question. I point a finger at Mom. “Why did you even hire her?”
She arches a brow, entirely unrepentant. “You told me to.”
“I didn’t tell you to hire Sabrina!”
“I believe your exact words were, ‘Go for it.’”
“You didn’t tell me that’s what you were up to,” I sputter.
“Of course I didn’t.” She is unperturbable. “Because I was helping you.”
Damn it. She’s right. I told her she could hire anyone. I just didn’t think anyone would be the woman I can’t stop thinking about.
Back at our house that night, I tuck my son into bed. After a flutter of his eyes and a long yawn, I set the space explorer book on Parker’s nightstand and turn down the light. But instead of the usual muffled “Night, Dad,” he lets out the world’s longest sigh. That’s not the kind of sigh you expect from an eight-year-old. It’s an old-soul sigh.
“What’s going on, buddy?” I ask, ruffling his hair.
He flips over in the darkness of his room, lit only by the glow-in-the-dark stickers of moons and stars he plastered to the ceiling.
“Agatha helped me with those,” he says, pointing at the stickers.
I helped too, but I figure that’s not worth mentioning right now. “I remember. We hauled up the ladder from the garage a few weeks ago.”
“She helped me figure out where to put all of them.”
“They look great,” I say, admiring the constellations—or at least, I think some of them are constellations. I definitely don’t know my astronomy. I squint at the configurations. “Is one of them the Big Dipper?”
Pretty sure the Big Dipper is supposed to look like a cup, and none of these shapes do, but that’s okay.
Parker points to a shape right above him that looks a little more like a bowl. “It’s right there.”
“Cool. What other constellations do you have?” I ask, even though I don’t think he really wants to talk about constellations. I think he just wants to talk.
He turns his face toward me slowly, his blue eyes giving me a curious look, his floppy hair falling over his forehead. He’s pure Elle, especially with his love of science.
“The Big Dipper isn’t a constellation, Dad.”
Oh. “I didn’t know that,” I say, feeling a little chastised.
“People think it is,” Parker says, then clucks his tongue. “Agatha knew the constellations.”
And there it is. He misses her. “Yeah, she was good with all that stuff.”
“The seven stars of the Big Dipper are actually part of Ursa Major. People call it the Great Bear. Do you know what the Big Dipper actually is?”
I give a small smile and shake my head. “I think we’ve already established the stars and skies aren’t my strong suit, kid. Why don’t you tell me?”
That earns me a smile from Parker who says, “It’s called an aster…” He gets stuck on the term. “An aster—”
“An asteroid?” I supply, though I know that’s not right.
“No! It’s an asterism,” he says, blowing out a triumphant but relieved breath, even as his tongue tangles on the unusual word.
“I have no idea what an asterism is.”
“It’s a bunch of stars within a constellation,” he explains, then points at the ceiling and shows me how the cup—or the bowl—forms part of the Great Bear, which kind of looks more like a blob.