Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
In Archie’s own words, it was his favorite background show in the morning when he prepared breakfast and tried to coax Kyla into taking her first steps. It was also a source of inspiration for when he was in the mood to buy a new tea set or serving tray.
Before him, I’d sure as fuck never been served breakfast on a silver tray.
After removing my shoes, I promised not to get mud everywhere, and then I headed inside and kept the dogs at a distance. At the same time, I had just come home from a wrestle in the mud and a swim in a lake, so the floorboards still had to suffer. Every step left a damp print behind.
“I’ll heat up your dinner, Sir,” Archie said.
“Thank you, baby.”
I ducked into the bathroom and wondered if that was the first time I’d called him baby. It felt right. It fit the moment too, because I had baby brain tonight. While Colt, Penelope, and I had made our way through the obstacle course, the hot topic had been the fact that Ivy was most likely pregnant. Therefore, she wouldn’t participate alongside the other brats tomorrow.
She was gonna make an incredible mother.
It’d be a good opportunity to get Archie involved in Mclean, because Ivy was going to need help. If she wasn’t planning a kink party, she was organizing the next monthly munch—or, of course, working full time as an ICU nurse.
I had a feeling Ivy and Archie would get along gr—
“Aw, fuck.” I bitched under my breath as I pulled out a set of keys from my jeans. Not just any keys either, but the keys to one of the vans we had rented for tomorrow.
Fuck my life. I had to go back. I wasn’t showing up at Mclean until late tomorrow afternoon, and I knew Kingsley and a couple others were setting up the tech and delivering all the gear tomorrow morning.
My plan to cuddle up with Archie on the couch—maybe even get into Downton Abbey—just flew out the window.
I cursed myself after the shower as I reluctantly stepped into a clean pair of jeans and put on a fresh T-shirt. This was the opposite of what I wanted. It was already late, nearing midnight, and it was a long drive.
Part of me wanted to say fuck it and go in the morning.
Another part of me knew I was gonna be livid with myself if I postponed anything and got robbed of a lazy morning in bed. The weather this weekend was going to be nice too, and I’d rather spend the day in the backyard than on the road.
On my way out, I pocketed my wallet, keys, and phone, and then I made my way toward the kitchen. I found Kyla crawling around on the living room floor, so I scooped her up and blew a raspberry on her pajama-clad, diaper-covered butt.
“If it isn’t our sleepless little lady.”
She squealed and flailed until I righted her in my arms.
I booped her little button nose, which she found hysterical.
It wasn’t only Littles who were easily entertained.
“Let’s go see what Daddy’s up to,” I said. Whatever Archie had cooked today smelled fantastic.
He was setting a plate for me on the kitchen island as we approached, and when he asked if I wanted a beer, it was time to break the bad news.
“Unfortunately, I’m the dumbass who forgot to leave the keys to our rental van at the estate, and the guys need them first thing in the morning. I gotta head back there after I’ve eaten.” I sat down on one of the stools and kept Kyla in my lap. The food looked amazing—chicken, roasted vegetables, rice, and some kind of sauce.
“Water it is,” Archie replied with a look of sympathy. “You sure you don’t want to return the keys tomorrow morning? I could have breakfast ready on the porch by the time you get back.”
“It crossed my mind, but I want my day with you and the baby girl before I suffer through the event.” I stabbed a piece of chicken with my fork and made a funny face with Kyla before I stuck the food into my mouth. She lit up and clapped excitedly, the little goofball.
Damn, Daddy could cook. He’d spoiled me all week.
“Yes, my poor Sadist—he has to suffer all night long when he beats brats into submission.”
I stifled my amusement and lifted an eyebrow at him. “Are you giving me attitude, boy?”
“I wouldn’t dare, Master.” He smiled and set a glass of water in front of me. Even with such a small task, he went the extra mile and added crushed ice and a lemon wedge.
“Besides, there’s no beating brats into submission.” I smirked around a mouthful of food. “They bounce back as soon as the tears have dried.”