Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Tia parts her lips, jaw hanging open.
Of course, I feel instant regret. Maren is a better person than I am—times infinity. My ego can’t see past Tia’s accusations to recognize the mother who’s still grieving the loss of her daughter.
I’m filled with nothing but frustration and flippant remarks when Tia voices her opinions about my life.
Maybe I need my own therapist.
“What’s going on?” Amos asks while his gaze ping-pongs between us.
Tia closes her mouth, jaw clenched as she tips up her chin. “Nothing.” She pivots and disappears down the hallway.
Amos narrows his eyes at me.
“Lola, breakfast is ready,” I call, holding Amos’s gaze, silently daring him to utter another word. My morning started with naked Maren. In less than an hour, my day has gone to shit.
“Your hair looks pretty.” I kiss the top of Lola’s head after she hops onto the barstool. “Where’s Maren?”
“She’s using the bathroom. But she can’t come to my track-and-field day.”
“That’s life, pumpkin. Don’t dillydally.” I glance at the clock on the microwave. I can either make our lunches or find Maren and see if another stolen moment can compensate for my run-in with Tia. “Can you eat school lunch today?” I ask.
“I don’t have to. They’re ordering pizza for track-and-field day.”
Perfect.
“I’m going to brush my teeth,” I say, jogging down the stairs.
Maren’s no longer in the bathroom; she’s inspecting the photos on the wall behind the sofa.
I slide my arms around her waist, pressing my chest to her back and burying my face in her hair along her neck. “I bet I can make you come again before Lola finishes her smoothie.”
Maren chuckles. “I don’t doubt that at all. If you take off your shirt, I’ll be halfway there before you even touch me.”
I slide her hair away from her neck to kiss her warm skin.
She points to a picture of Brynn and Lola. “Where was this taken?”
I freeze for a few seconds before releasing her and scratching the back of my neck while gazing at the framed photo. “When Lola turned four, Brynn took her for afternoon tea. They enjoyed sandwiches, scones, and jams on those tiered stands and sipped tea while wearing pretty dresses. It was just the two of them. And it became a tradition on Lola’s birthday.”
Maren faces me. “I love that. But I bet she misses it.”
I keep my gaze on the photo and nod slowly. “She misses everything about her mom, but I’ve tried to keep the tradition alive. I bought one of those tiered trays and a tea set. On her birthday, I make sandwiches and scones with jelly. We sip tea in the dining room, just the two of us. Lola wears a pretty dress, and I wear a suit and tie.”
Maren wipes a tear from her cheek. “That’s beautiful, Ozzy,” she whispers.
I manage a sad smile. “If you saw my scones and sandwiches, you wouldn’t say it’s beautiful.”
She laughs, blotting the corners of her eyes.
“We talked about one day taking Lola to London for her birthday tea.” I sigh to release the emotion before it gets the best of me.
Maren’s brows pinch together as she chews the inside of her cheek.
“Thank you for braiding her hair. It looks great. She’ll have an extra bounce in her step today.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, relaxing her face. “I’m going to go now.” She glances toward the stairs before reaching for my neck and pulling me to her for a kiss.
She smiles against my lips when I palm her ass, bringing her flush to my body. “We’re going to get caught,” she says, tearing herself from my hold and running her fingers through her hair.
“Fine. You’re no fun. Go home.”
“I’m the definition of fun,” she says, tossing me a flirty smile on her way to the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maren
Ozzy: See you tonight!
Maren: I’m headed to my plane. CU tonight!
Ozzy: Your properly inspected plane?
Maren: Check. Double check. Triple check. And then some
Ozzy: Be safe
Maren: That’s the plan xo
After watching reports on fires, waiting for a call, playing cards, twiddling thumbs, and fine-tuning our equipment more times than I can count all day Friday, Saturday brings a spark of unknown origin, and we’re headed to something new.
Thirty-five minutes later, I’m working the north flank. There are no ground crews on site yet, which makes things easier, and in my ear, I get the “line is clear to drop.”
“Roger, 274 clear to drop,” I say, releasing the retardant. It’s the first of many on what could be a long day if the wind continues to pick up speed.
As hard as I try to stay entirely focused on the task at hand, the job I love, I can’t help but think of Tia and her assumption that I wouldn’t do this job if I had a family.
She’s wrong.
I think.
Maren: Do u want me to bring board games? I’m good at Scrabble