Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
With stuffed bellies, I urge them into their room to grab showers, letting Jace grab his clothes and head to my room so they can bathe at the same time.
I don’t think Mila thought I was being serious earlier about the house, but I’m still left thinking about how many bathrooms we’d need as if it’s a foregone conclusion that we’ll live together.
There’s unease with Mila when we tuck the boys into their beds, and she’s even reluctant to ask me to keep an eye on Sutton so she can wash the day off her.
“I’ll stay in here until you’re done,” I explain, watching her eyes as I sit down on her bed.
Sutton falls asleep in my arms quickly, but I can’t get past that look in Mila’s eyes. As gently as I can, I place Sutton in her crib and get to work. The woman has dealt with enough stress. If the boys not being in her room freaks her out, then that’s something I can remedy.
She seems shocked and a little relieved when she opens the bathroom door to see that I’ve moved one of the full-sized beds into her room. Thankfully, the rooms are big enough that it’s possible.
“It’s cozy,” I tell her when her eyes dart from each bed.
“And we get to bring our blankets,” Luca says, his voice soft because of how tired he is from the day’s activities.
I pull back the corner of the blanket, a nonverbal demand for her to join me. If I’m being honest, I was feeling just as unsure of being away from the kids as she was.
She doesn’t hesitate to crawl into the bed, and I don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her like I did the night before, after switching off the bedside lamp.
“I know I shouldn’t get used to this,” she whispers. “Everyone was so nice to me tonight.”
“Everyone will continue being nice to you because that’s who they are. They aren’t being fake just because you’re new around here.”
I want to promise her the world, but I know it’s not my place. Despite Sutton and the boys, I don’t exactly have the best track record for anything long term.
“You should hate me for what I did,” she says, pain marking her voice.
“Part of me does,” I say honestly, understanding why she stiffens in my embrace. “I can’t say it’s fine because it’s not. I lost two years with her.”
I’m not trying to hurt her, but I can’t lie either.
I hold her a little tighter when she starts to cry. Just like she did that first night, she does her best to do so silently. She’s been suffering much longer than since her sister and Carlen were killed. My heart breaks for her.
I might understand that she felt it was the best thing to do, but it was also a very selfish move on her part. I deserved to know my daughter from birth as much as Sutton deserved to know her dad.
“I’m sorry,” she manages.
“And I forgive you,” I tell her with utter honesty.
What I won’t do is punish her forever for the choice she made. She thought it was what was best, and I don’t think she did it with any malice. Anyone being hurt by it was the byproduct not her intent, and I think that makes all the difference.
I press my lips to the back of her neck, praying she finds a little peace tonight so she can rest. We’re safer now than we’ve been since we left St. Louis. We’re all together, and the kids are happy and healthy. We could be doing far worse, honestly.
Chapter 24
Mila
It’s been a long time since my world felt utterly perfect, but I slept well last night for the first time in as long as I can remember.
The warmth of Vincent’s chest urges me to roll over and snuggle into him. His arms leave my body only long enough for me to get situated, and then his palm is warm on my lower back where my shirt has ridden up.
Hesitantly, but unable to resist, I lift my leg and hitch it up on his hip. The rumble of his groan is trapped between my neck and his lips.
The roll of his hips is almost everything I need. When his hand travels over my butt and down my thigh, his grip locking me in place so he can press against me, his erection teasing where I ache, I know I’ve found perfection.
I bite my lips to stifle a moan, but he feels so damn good.
“Ple—”
“Momma!”
His chuckle when I freeze at the sound of our daughter calling from the other side of the room tickles my neck.
“That’s a first,” he whispers, reluctant to pull his lips from my skin.
His comment could mean a variety of things, but I refuse to consider any of them. What I do know is that it’s proof that what this is isn’t something he’s used to, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe new experiences are exactly what he needs, but maybe so much new will wear him out and force him to realize the way his life looks right now isn’t something he’s going to want long term. That outcome makes me leery about the kids getting attached to him at the risk of losing him later.