Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
A proud nod is presented prior to her proclaiming, “Happy to help out the team.”
“She’s a keeper, Eeyore,” Mari cheekily states on a crooked smirk. “Make sure you do, or she’ll come work for us.”
The wink I’m shot sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine.
Fuck, I almost forgot for a moment that yeah…
She works for me.
This wasn’t done out of love for me or some shit.
It’s what she gets paid to do.
Make my life easier.
Better.
Fuck. Me.
Why couldn’t she have thought we were married instead?
At least that would be less fucked up.
Right?
I mean…right?!
I’ve barely finished lacing up Bella’s skates when she bounces around on a whine. “Time for bucket, Daddy.”
“First, lace up Bella’s blades,” my finger gently taps her toe, “next, lace up Nanny Joey’s blades,” I greedily grant myself permission to touch her leg, “and last, putting Bella’s bucket on.”
Her pout appears in tandem with Joeski’s perplexity. “Uh…what are we lacing up Nanny Joey for?”
My stare instantly shifts to her. “Family skate.”
“But technically I’m not-”
“Ahhhh.” Is the best impression of a buzzer I can conjure up. “Whistle on the play.”
“But that was a buzzer.”
“Fine. Penalty on the play.”
Additional bewilderment bursts through her expression. “For what?”
“Unsportsmanlike conduct.”
“How in the Hello Kitty is that unsportsmanlike?!”
“You used language that was offensive to an individual.”
“Which individual?!”
“Me.”
The unexpected statement freezes her mouth agape.
“You’re as much family to me as the boys are.”
She struggles not to let the corners of her lips curl upward, which merely encourages me to push harder so that they do.
So that she’s fucking smiling.
Because she should always be fucking smiling.
It’s one of the most beautiful things in this whole fucking world.
“You’re the woman who takes care of my daughter, the woman who takes care of me, and…the one person I can talk to about certain pieces of literature,” my eyebrows waggling successfully gets her giggling, “without having to worry about getting major ish for it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that type of reading.” Joeski’s head bobs back and forth. “Or to be fair…the other…type that has the…provocative pictures. Found a few. Read a few. Definitely get the appeal.”
Great.
Now she’s not only the woman of my fantasies, she can act out some of the shit too.
Forfuckssake, can I win in this chapter of my life?!
Is that a fucking possibility?
“I’ll skate,” she sweetly concedes on a heavy sigh as though she can’t believe she’s agreeing. “It’s a good thing I brought myself a pair.”
It’s my turn to look momentarily baffled. “What’d you bring skates for if you didn’t expect to skate?”
“They were a just in case tool.”
“Just in case of what?”
“Having to intervene for mediation during a daddy, daughter meltdown.”
“That doesn’t-”
“Parkageddon.”
Her reminder regarding the swing set incident from a week ago receives my immediate surrender on a nod. “Gino.”
“Thank you,” Joeski sassily states before retrieving the gear from the bag Mari brought in for her.
“Need help lacing up?”
Or unlacing later?
Nope.
Gotta shut that shit down.
Check it harder than I checked Matty.
“I got it,” the curvy bombshell – whose bright eye sore of an outfit has me wanting to rip it away as well as cuddle her in it – offhandedly insists. “You can help Bella with her bucket.”
Reaching behind her to retrieve the headpiece has Joeski undeniably in my direct embrace for five or ten or fifteen seconds, yet I swear to the Bench Boss upstairs that it lasts so much longer.
Maybe it’s because I can smell her signature hints of peppermint and marshmallows.
Or maybe it’s because I love the feeling of her full frame pressed against mine.
Or maybe…just…fucking…maybe…it’s because I see her slightly shift into me like she wants to be here.
Belong to me.
Now.
Always.
“Daddy,” my daughter calls out at the same time she lands on her feet to move to be in front of me, “we miss someding.”
“Chto?”
“Number!” She dramatically squawks while frantically poking her cheek, and as one could predict, an accidental stab occurs. “Ou…”
“Ostorozhnyy, Printsessa.”
To my surprise, she grumps, “I was be careful.”
The fact she’s remembering more than just her colors and numbers leads to me beaming brightly despite now not being the right time.
Holy shit.
Did Joeski unlock my kid’s inner genius?!
Once the helmet is secured in place, I gently lift her chin up to meet her gaze. “More careful, okay?”
Her poked out bottom lip remains during her nodding.
“You want Daddy’s number on your face?”
“Yes please!”
Pausing my movements is done to ask, “Na Russkom.”
“Da, pazaoushter!”
Eh.
Close enough for a preschooler.
“Atta girl!” The encouraging poke to the nose has her wiggling in excitement as I shoot my question to her nanny. “Got a marker?”
“Really?” She looks over at me after she finishes tying her skate. “Is that the message you wanna send about what markers are for?”
“Well, I’m not gonna walk around with eyeliner in my pocket all the time.” Mirth is attached to my headshaking. “That’s definitely not the message I’m lookin’ to send if you catch my pass.”