Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I napped for eight hours,” I say when he comes into the room with the dustpan filled. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
He looks over at me when he throws out the glass. “Well, I tried at around seven, but you just mumbled something and then rolled over.” He walks back to the hallway and puts away the broom. “And two, I think there is a saying never wake a sleeping baby.” I put my hands to my mouth as he goes to wash his hands at the sink. “So I figured you’d wake when you were hungry.”
“Well, now that you say that,” I say. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”
“And miss a midnight snack with you?” he jokes. “What do you want to eat?”
“I can prepare my own snack,” I say and walk into the kitchen.
“Do you want me to warm up biscuits?” He says the words, and I look over at him and try not to give away too much. “Mom brought over some.” He walks to the fridge and takes out a Ziploc bag with the biscuits inside. “She also brought over some apple butter.”
“Did she put instructions on that?” I ask. Walking over to him, I take the bag from him, and there in the middle are the instructions. “Where do you keep your pans?” I ask. He looks at me, and I laugh. “You’ve never cooked in your kitchen?”
“It took me like two years to break it to Mom that I would be living in this house full-time.” He opens the cabinets until he finds the pans he needs and hands it to me. “When the furniture got delivered, I swear I saw her wipe her tears.” I place the biscuits on the pan and then start the oven.
“Aww, you’re her baby boy,” I joke with him. Something creeps into me, but I brush it away. I’ve never really wanted children, but the thought of protecting my own child fills my head.
“I’m not even going to tell you the number of times I’ve come home and found her cleaning my house. I had to sit her down and tell her to stop.” He shakes his head.
“She’s taking care of you, cowboy. You can’t fault her for that,” I say, thinking back to the one time I was sick, and my mother just brushed it off.
“I don’t feel well, Mom. I have a sore throat,” I said while I laid on the couch. Even getting up and going to the bathroom hurt.
“Oh, please stop with the dramatics, Olivia. You have a show to do.” She said this while ripping off the blanket I managed to get on me. “The car will be here in five minutes. Pop some Advil and get dressed. I’ve worked too hard for you to ruin everything.”
“I’ll be back.” He walks toward his bedroom, and I turn and open his fridge. I grab a couple of the muffins out with some of the apple butter and her famous strawberry jam. By the time he comes back, I have the muffins in the oven heating, too. “So what woke you?” he asks, taking plates out for us.
“I don’t know,” I say the truth. “I just opened my eyes, and everything was so dark, and then …” I put my head down, ashamed to say that I was scared of the dark. He comes over to me, putting his hand under my chin and lifts my face so I’m looking at him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t leave any lights on,” he whispers, wrapping one hand around my waist, and I wait for him to kiss me. When he kissed me yesterday, nothing in the world could have prepared me for the kiss. My whole body lit up, my heart sped up faster than a speeding train, and my belly did the wave. It was the most perfect kiss I’ve ever gotten, it’s a kiss I’ll never forget.
He brings his lips down to mine and kisses me softly at first. “Your eyes change color when I kiss you.” He kisses me again, only this time, his tongue comes out, and he slips it into my mouth. I’m not expecting to feel the same way again, but it’s even more than it was yesterday. My hands go to his hips, and I turn my head to the side, waiting for him to take the kiss deeper. When he does, the beeping from the oven fills the room. I laugh out loud while he groans, then I turn to take the things out of the oven. Placing them all on a plate, I sit with him at the island while we eat. Neither of us says anything, and when we finally finish, and I get up, I see him yawning.
“Go to bed. I’ll clean this up.” He stands there looking at me.