Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
He raised an eyebrow as he turned on the baby monitor. “What?”
“It’s you. You’re magical.” She leaned over the crib and kissed her daughter before pulling the railing up. She had to do something to distract herself before she began to cry. She hadn’t thought a person could cry so many tears of joy.
Diego swept an arm around her shoulders. “I hear my brother and Jonquille on the porch, sweetheart. They’re bringing food.”
“I think we’re being spoiled.”
“Everyone wants you to know you’re welcome here. They’re glad you’re here.” He urged her to walk out of the room, pausing to close the door on their way out.
“They don’t know me,” she pointed out.
“They know me. If I tell my friends and family you’re the one, the only one for me, they trust that I would never bring someone here that won’t fit. You fit.”
That was a good feeling. He seemed to create quite a few in her. She wanted to bring up the mission to recover her sister, but Rubin and Jonquille were already knocking and pushing open the front door.
Jonquille was petite and delicate looking with short, platinum-blond hair, very striking in her appearance, especially beside Rubin. Rubin, like Diego, was a handsome man, with his bronzed skin and dark hair. The aroma of roast and gravy rose from the tote Rubin carried.
Rubin gave Leila a smile, one very reminiscent of Diego. She hadn’t noticed before how much they looked alike, but now that they were in a different environment, she could see how closely they resembled each other.
“Brought my wife to meet you, Leila. This is Jonquille, the love of my life.”
I told you he was the romantic one. He writes poetry about her.
Diego sounded as if he might be mocking his brother, but in her mind, he felt proud of him. Admiring. Even a bit envious.
She looks as if she might need a man who can write flowery words. They must be well suited, just the way we are. She didn’t need poetry. She needed what Diego gave her. Peace. Contentment. Protection. Loyalty.
Diego tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Best sister ever,” he greeted and bent to brush a kiss on Jonquille’s cheek. He didn’t loosen his hold on Leila to do it.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Leila said. “Thank you for putting Gracie’s room together. It’s amazing and far better than I could ever have done.”
Rubin indicated that they should keep walking toward the kitchen. Jonquille went with him, but she flashed Leila a smile. “I’m so glad you like it. I did research on various children’s rooms and loved that look. I had never read the Beatrix Potter books, so I did before I chose that theme. Fortunately, I’m good on a computer and I’m a fast reader. I loved the stories and envisioned reading them to her.”
“I love the variety of children’s books you chose,” Leila said. “I read quite a bit and want Grace to develop a love of reading as well.” Involuntarily, she pressed tighter to Diego. “I’m looking forward to reading all the children’s books at every age level. When I was little, my mother read to me. When Bridget came along, she read all the same books to her, and I got to hear them all over again. I want to experience that with Gracie.”
“I want to do the same with our children,” Jonquille agreed. “Rubin and I talk about the way we want to raise our children so we can work out the kinks ahead of time.”
Rubin placed the tote on the middle island in the kitchen and began to pull out the warmers. “Bottom line, we aren’t going to physically punish our child or yell.” He glanced at Diego, who exchanged a very sober look with him. “We’re raising them with praise and encouragement.”
Leila tried to read the brothers. She knew a good deal about Diego’s childhood. Those things were the exact opposite of what he had experienced.
“I like that,” Leila said. “I can’t imagine anyone raising their voice to Gracie or striking her.”
The moment she used the word “striking,” Diego stiffened beside her. She had the feeling anyone daring to hit their daughter would find themselves on the wrong end of his predatory wrath.
“I was very impressed when I heard Pepper reprimanding her daughter for talking back disrespectfully to Nonny. She handled it quietly but sternly. At the time, I thought: That’s the way I hope to talk to Gracie when she gets too far out of line.”
“That must have been Ginger,” Rubin said, humor in his voice. He exchanged another look with Diego, and this time, she felt the laughter in them both.
Jonquille must have as well, because she bumped her hip against Rubin’s. “Being disrespectful, especially to Nonny, is not funny.”
“Everything that child does is funny,” Diego contradicted. “She’s a little spitfire. While I’m glad she’s Wyatt’s naughtiness to raise, I anticipate we might have similar experiences.”