Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Heart in my throat, I followed behind Cinda and my daughter, coming to a halt in her bathroom doorway when my eyes lit on Jeremiah, snug t-shirt and tight jeans, arms stretched high over his head as he worked on a showerhead in Cinda’s handicap-friendly shower.
The way he had his arms up over his head had his shirt riding up, and a tight, tanned expanse of belly was displayed.
He had the V.
I’d always heard of the V but hadn’t met anyone that had one.
Jeremiah definitely had it, even if I could only see one half of it.
“Higher or lower?”
“Hey!” my daughter whispered.
Jeremiah’s head snapped toward that whispered word, and his arms dropped.
He smiled hugely, and my heart literally exploded at the way my girl waved.
“You know each other?” Cinda asked.
“Actually, yes.” He laughed. “This little girl was at the candy shop and showed me all the sweets to get you.”
“Ohh!” Cinda laughed. “She is a little sugar addict. She helps me put away all of my candies.”
“Looks like she’ll be doing that for you with all the stuff I got you today, too,” he teased. “Hey, Anleigh.”
“Hi,” Anleigh whispered back.
I closed my eyes at that sweet, whispered word.
Fuck, I hated my father.
When I opened them again, it was to find Jeremiah staring at me, a worried look on his face.
“This is my neighbor,” Cinda explained. “She lives across the street with her father.”
He frowned, those frown lines between his eyes becoming more pronounced. “I didn’t think anyone lived there.”
“They don’t celebrate Christmas,” Cinda added, trying to explain the unexplainable.
I’d lied to her.
She’d asked if I wanted help putting up Christmas lights, and I’d made up an excuse to explain away my father’s weird behavior rather than telling them the truth—that my father would rather die than put up Christmas lights.
“Oh,” he said.
I shrugged, looking away.
I knew what he saw when he looked at our house.
It was rundown.
The yard was unkempt.
There were no lights, or even personal touches—not even a welcome mat.
The only thing that we could boast having was a pile of newspapers that my dad refused to pick up because “he didn’t ask for a newspaper to be delivered.”
I’d tried to pick them up once and he’d thrown a fit. “Told them to come get ’em.”
So there they sat, along with the leaves from this year and last.
“Bear?” Anleigh offered up her bear to the large man.
Jeremiah smiled at my child, making my heart utterly melt.
“Oh.” He held up his hands. “I can’t take that, darlin’. I have dirty hands.”
He sure did.
His fingers were covered in what looked like grease.
Where had that come from if he’d been fixing the showerhead?
“Bear!” she declared.
“No, baby. If you let him hold the bear, he’ll get it all dirty, then I’ll have to take it to the laundromat with me, and then you’ll have to part with it for an hour while I wash and dry it.” I patted her back.
“Oh.” She curled it back into her chest.
Jeremiah’s half-grin was heart stopping.
His eyes also held a whole lot of patience and kindness—something I wasn’t used to from men.
That was probably why men tended to scare Anleigh, too.
But not this one…
“She’s even sweeter than my own grandkids,” Cinda admitted. “But don’t ever tell Noel that. She’ll have a meltdown if she knows.”
“Her kids are maniacs.” Jeremiah snorted, then gestured to his grandmother. “Is this a good spot? Come in here and see if you can reach it.”
Lucinda did just that, squeezing between the stall door and Jeremiah, who was still holding the showerhead up.
Lucinda reached for it, and it was just out of her touch.
“Bring it down,” she urged.
After settling with the placement of the showerhead, I startled when I realized that I’d stayed way longer than I’d intended.
“Oh, I gotta go get dinner on,” I replied, starting to make a hasty exit.
“Be careful out there, dear,” Cinda called from her perch against the kitchen counter. “And Merry Christmas Eve!”
I smiled. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
My eyes flashed once to Jeremiah, who hadn’t said a word about me leaving, and hurried out of the house.
I did, however, remember to snag the coat.
I needed one, and at this point, I wasn’t above taking charity.
I’d surpassed that point a long time ago when I realized that I couldn’t make ends meet. And when I couldn’t make ends meet, my child suffered.
Anleigh wouldn’t do well with me sick as a dog because I couldn’t adequately clothe myself.
I took one last look back into the house when I closed the door, and saw Jeremiah come around the corner to watch me go.
Our eyes met, and I froze there on the doorstep.
“Bye!” Anleigh whispered, waving at the man.
Jeremiah whispered back, “Bye, sweetheart.”
Chapter
Nine
I never feel smarter than after reading questions in my kid’s sports group chat.
—Merriam’s secret thoughts
MERRIAM
A pool of dread filled my stomach as I looked at the road start to become covered with snow.