Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
She coos at him as if they’re having their own little conversation.
“I should change her before we go.”
“Sure.” He bounces her in his arms before he hands her over to me. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. I’m all set. The diaper bag is packed, and you have a car seat, right?”
“Yep. We’re all set there.” He reaches out and tickles Ada’s belly, making her laugh. “Damn, you’re cute,” he tells her.
Not sure what to say, I turn and walk down the hall to the bedroom to change her diaper. I could have done it there on the couch, but I needed a break, a breather from the sexy man who’s inserted himself into my life. I’m grateful for everything he’s done for me, but I still don’t understand it. All I can do is make sure that I repay him in some way in the future, whether that’s paying it forward as he’s asked of me or to him directly.
I will make this right.
I hate the feeling of owing someone, but I’m struggling. I’m broke, with only the support of my grandparents, and the thought of asking them for the money for my car is worse than letting Maverick pay. I’ve taken too much from them staying here and invading their lives.
“Mommy’s going to find a job, and we’re going to get back on our feet,” I tell my daughter. She reaches for the pack of wipes and tries to stick it into her mouth. I tap her nose before taking the wipes and replacing them with a small set of toy keys that she can chew on. She babbles and coos, and it fills my soul. She’s growing and doing something new or making new sounds, and I cherish every second of it.
Once I’m finished, I place Ada on my hip and carry her back to the living room. Maverick looks up from his phone, which he slides back into his pocket.
“Ready, ladies?” he asks. Ada babbles and holds her hands out for him. Her easy acceptance of him helps me relax. Kids are a good judge of character, or that’s what I’ve read.
“We really don’t need to get dinner. Just taking me to get my car is more than enough. You’ve done so much for us, Maverick.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m the luckiest man in Willow River. I get two beautiful ladies to have dinner with me.” He winks.
That wink is powerful. It has a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my belly. “Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me, Stel. Now, hand her over.” He reaches for Ada, and she goes to him willingly, with a smile on her face. She was already leaning toward him with her arms out. I push the fact that she wanted him and not me to the back of my mind. My baby girl is just soaking up the attention. “What are we thinking for dinner?” he asks Ada, then turns to look at me. She babbles as if she’s answering him, and I can’t hold my smile.
“Just a drive-thru is fine.” I shrug. I’m not picky.
“What? Two beautiful ladies as my guests, and you want me to take you to a drive-thru?”
“French fries.” I nod toward Ada. “It’s her favorite.”
“Right, well, how about the diner in town? Dorothy’s is the best. They have fries for this cutie and a lot of options for us.”
I open my mouth to argue and quickly close it. “Okay. Thank you.” If I keep arguing, he’s going to think I’m ungrateful. I’m not. I’m just embarrassed he feels like he needs to take care of us.
“Ada, tell Mommy to stop thanking me.” He raises Ada’s hand and helps her point at me. My daughter laughs, loving all of his attention. She coos and babbles, doing as Maverick asks.
“Let’s hit the road.” He turns with Ada in his arms and carries her out to his truck. He bounces her on his hip, and her squeals of delight follow them.
I rush to grab the diaper bag, lock up the house, and follow them. By the time I reach them, Maverick has Ada in her seat, and he’s buckling her in. I don’t bother asking if he needs help. I know he doesn’t. Instead, I climb into the passenger side and turn to glance at my daughter. It’s the mother in me. He knows what he’s doing. He’s proven that but I can’t help but check, anyway.
“How was your day?” Maverick asks once we’re on the road.
“Good. I spent a good part of the day job hunting.”
“No luck?”
“Not yet. I’m not exactly qualified for much. I’m a college dropout.” Here I go again, blurting out the sad truths of my life. It’s as if just being in Maverick’s presence is a truth serum, causing me to word-vomit all of my issues.
“What were you going to college for?”