Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I smiled dreamily.
“I wouldn’t say it’s love…yet. But it’s something,” I admitted. “I could fall for him easily…very easily.”
Colt woke then, crying, and I hurriedly moved to his bed and cradled him up to my chest.
He’d lost a lot of weight, but at least today he was taking food from me, unlike the day before.
“Hey, baby,” I whispered to him.
His blue eyes were brighter today, more full of life than they had been.
He pulled his spread hand, thumb forward, to his forehead and tapped it, causing me to smile.
“Oh, Mr. Tai said he’d come visit you if he had a chance, but I’m not sure when that’ll be, baby,” I whispered.
He’d been doing that a lot since Tai had left yesterday to go speak to his brother, and I found that I didn’t mind the idea of Tai being Colton’s daddy.
Although, pretty much anyone would be better than his biological father.
“What’s he saying?” My mom asked, getting up to mix Colton a bottle.
I don’t know what I’d do without my mother. It was like she was my right hand.
She handed the bottle to me before I answered her.
“Yesterday when Tai came to visit, he gave Colton the firefighter bear,” I pointed at the little stuffed animal Colt had yet to put down. “And Colt called him ‘daddy.’”
My mom smiled.
“Anyone’s better than the piece of shit that is his father,” my mother said parroting my thoughts.
I snorted and sat down, taking the bottle that my mother offered me.
Colt grabbed at the bottle, tried to hold it, and failed.
I maneuvered him into a more comfortable position on my arm and held the bottle for him. Something I hadn’t had to do for him since he was a little over five months old.
It was weird.
There were things that I hadn’t done in a very long time, such as rock him to sleep.
Although, I still held him a lot, I hadn’t had to rock him in a long time because he just plain didn’t like me to do it.
He was a very inquisitive child, and hated being hampered by what I thought of as the ‘cage of my arms.’
My son, though, had needed me a lot more lately to do things he’d been doing on his own for a while. Which made my mind wander to a time later on down the road when he wouldn’t need me at all anymore.
One day I would put him down to walk on his own, and the next day he wouldn’t let me pick him back up again.
Or one day I’d give him his bath, and the next he’d refuse to let me stay while he showered.
It was something I tried not to think about.
Colton’s time wasn’t promised, and I didn’t want to think that I would ever lose a single minute with him.
“He’s doing so well,” my mother said, watching as Colton inhaled his bottle.
This was the baby I was used to.
Eating me out of house and home even at eight months old.
“Ohhh,” my mother said, jolting me out of my contemplation of his improved eating pattern.
I looked up, a grin immediately splitting my face.
“Hey!” I said, smiling happily at who was at the door.
I had a reason to be happy today.
But, then again, I always tried to keep a positive attitude.
It was a mindset I’d adopted at sixteen, when I’d been dealing with the first painful experiences of my young life: the loss of my father followed almost immediately by my first break up with a serious boyfriend.
Tai’s beautiful bronzed skin wrinkled at the corners of his eyes as he stood at the door taking in the room.
He wasn’t alone, though.
There were about six other firemen directly behind him.
“Good morning,” he said. “How’s he doing?”
I waved him inside and looked down when I felt movement from Colton.
Colton was frantically tapping his forehead with his thumb, repeatedly saying ‘daddy’ over and over.
I grinned.
“I think he’s much better today,” I laughed.
He nodded. “That I can see. And he’s taking a bottle, too.”
I nodded in confirmation.
“He is, and he did. Started last night about an hour after you left,” I agreed.
He turned and motioned to the other guys to come into the room.
“And who are these men?” I asked.
Tai pointed to a taller blonde man directly to his right.
“This is Drew. He’s the oldest of the bunch in case you can’t tell,” Tai said laughingly. “He’s the FAO for Truck 3 and a stickler for the rules, so be careful what you say around him.”
I smiled.
“Nice to meet you,” Drew said in a delicious Southern drawl.
He was obviously from Texas with that accent. He was tall and blonde and had arms the size of tree trunks. His eyes were a sharp, stormy gray, and he had a great smile.
“Nice to meet you, too. What’s an FAO?” I asked.
“Fire apparatus operator,” he answered immediately. “I drive the big red truck.”