Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
He held the door open while I led the three dogs into the spacious home. I could hear some kind of jazz music playing in the back of the house and followed the sounds until I found Doc in the kitchen.
“Westie, don’t listen to a thing that old man tells you,” Doc warned. “He’s in a mood.”
I leaned in and gave him a quick hug before lifting the lid of the fat Santa cookie jar that lived on the counter year round and always had sweets in it that Doc had made. Jackpot. Homemade brownies.
“Mmm, just what the doctor ordered,” I mumbled, grabbing a thick brownie before putting Santa’s head back on his body. “Why is Grandpa mad at you? He told me you guys had dinner at El Senõr’s last night and you accidentally left the engine on the entire time you were in the—”
Doc shot Grandpa a look. “One time, goddammit. I did that one time, and I still blame you for distracting me with those pants. Shut the hell up, you old geezer. Your memory is for shit.”
I snorted on chocolate crumbs and glanced back and forth between Grandpa and Doc. They were usually so sticky sweet in love, even after all these years, that it was kind of fun to see them annoyed with each other.
Grandpa pointed at me and laughed. “Get mad at him, not me. I didn’t bring it up.”
Doc looked at me with a smirk. “He’s pissed because I made the brownies with avocado instead of butter to make them healthier.”
I choked as the fake brownie got lodged in my throat. “Ew, groth,” I sputtered, making my way to the sink to spit out the offending item and take a sip of water from the tap. “That’s disgusting.”
Doc laughed and elbowed his husband. “Did you see him eat half of it? Now he can’t pretend he didn’t like the healthy version.”
Grandpa couldn’t help but join in, laughing at me right alongside Doc until his face was buried in Doc’s neck and Doc’s arm was stretched around Grandpa’s shoulders.
“Har, har,” I said, shooting Doc the evil eye. “Joke’s on you. I picked up chocolate éclair cake from the bakery this morning before work, and now I’m not sharing it. Wouldn’t want to foist something unhealthy on you two bozos.”
That just made them laugh even harder until Doc whispered something in Grandpa’s ear and Grandpa smacked Doc’s ass with an “Atta boy” before heading back outside.
“Where’s he going?” I asked, opening the fridge to get a soda.
“Out to the truck to secure your dessert. Hand me a can of that, will ya?”
I got diet sodas for both of us, and we took them to the long farmhouse table between the large kitchen and family room. There was a glass dish of cut up carrots and other veggies already on the table, and I quirked a brow at Doc.
“What’s with the healthy stuff? Is something going on I’m unaware of?” I asked quietly, looking out the window to make sure Grandpa wasn’t within earshot. Grandpa was over ten years Doc’s senior, and I knew Doc worried about him.
“His cholesterol was up at his last checkup, that’s all. I’m just making sure he doesn’t kick off before me. I’m not sure I could handle that, you know?”
I saw the concern in his eyes and the love shining forth as Grandpa made his way in the back door with an armful of Adriana’s chocolate, fat, and sugar specialty I’d been stupid enough to pick up.
“Oh shit, Doc. Sorry about that,” I began. “I shouldn’t have picked up the éclair if—”
He put his hand on mine where it rested on the table and squeezed. “Nonsense. Nothing says we can’t have a treat every now and then. I just want us to get back in the habit of balancing it with good stuff. You know the drill, Dr. Wilde.” He winked at me before leaning back and taking a sip of his soda and continuing. “What’s new? I haven’t seen you in a few days. Have you been by to see the baby?”
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “Yes. Every night after work.”
“And?” Doc gestured for Grandpa to join us and reached out to hold his hand after Grandpa took a seat in the chair next to him. “How’s the new gentleman doing with her? Doing okay?”
I shrugged. “He says he is, but I don’t know. I get the feeling he’s barely hanging on, you know?”
“Well, it’s hard when you’re not used to it. Ask any new parent and they’ll tell you,” Grandpa said with a kind smile.
“He won’t let me help. Like, with anything. There’s no way he can keep this up,” I said. “The guy looks like the walking dead.”
“Is Goldie still helping?” Doc asked.
“No. Nico told her he was fine on his own, and she believed him.”