Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
His father wasn’t allowed there unless invited. His old man had tried to flex his muscles once. He came over, saying he owned this house and he’d be there when he wanted. His badass mother had come damn close to setting his beloved Harley on fire, flexing her own brand of control right back. Since then, he hadn’t been back unless she approved.
Dev ate another entire cookie while walking the length of the hallway toward the farthest family room. Dev rounded the corner and found the three of them lounging on the couch. An animated movie played on the large television screen.
“How much Disney can two kids watch?” Dev asked loudly to gain their attention. “I get there’s lots of death and destruction in those movies, but seriously, why do you two love 'em so much?”
Mae bounded from his mother’s side, leaping toward Dev. All her love chimed in the single use of his name, “Daddy.”
Man, he was a sucker for Abi and Mae.
She jumped up on the edge of the sofa and leaped toward him. But he had the cookies in that hand. He busted a move to catch her. Luckily, he did.
“We missed you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up. She squeezed him as tight as her zero-muscled arms could. The movie paused. His mother untangled herself from Abigail. This was the first time he’d seen his mom since the boob job. He didn’t mean to stare but they changed her smallish frame drastically.
“Mom…” he said, doubtfully.
She automatically knew what he referred to and began to shake her head. “I love them, so not another word.”
Her arm came around him, giving a side hug. “I see you found the cookies.”
“I made those,” Mae said proudly to the ones in his hand. He instantly looked at Abigail.
“I ate yours comin’ down the hall. They’re good. I knew it was yours because they were the same color as your heart,” he teased, trying for a compliment she’d appreciate and stuck his tongue out, knowing the dark dye in the icing left a streak there. It appeased her. She nodded. Her fingertip pressed on a word from the book in her lap, already halfway through the large novel.
“I feel like the Cullen’s need to adopt me,” Abi said in perhaps a teasing way. It was hard to know with her.
He nodded, raising his brows. She gave him a rare smile and began to read again.
“Are the Cullen’s real? It didn’t seem like they were,” Dev asked his mom in a stage whisper meant to be heard by Abi. “She’s not plannin’ on gettin' adopted right? I like her. She’s pretty okay to have around.”
Abi gave a huff, never lifting her head from the book.
Mae’s head went to his shoulder. Her lips turned to press against his T-shirt. She was so sweet.
“Daddy, I’m glad to see you, but we want to stay with Momo this week.”
Mae couldn’t have planned the timing better to draw him in then sucker punch him right in the gut.
“What? I drove all this way to get you. I can bring you back in the mornin’.”
“Thank you for coming, but we’ll just stay tonight. Can I watch TV?” she asked, moving to where her face was inches from his. He edged her down on the sofa where she bounded three jumps back to the remote.
“Girls, I’m going to feed your father. Y’all finish watching the movie,” his mother said.
“That’s code for stay in here,” Abi explained to Mae.
“I know. You don’t know everything,” Mae shot back.
Dev started to intervene, hoping to stop an argument before it got started, but his mom ushered him from the room.
“No fighting,” she said casually over her shoulder and got a “Yes, ma’am” back in unison.
All he could do was stare at her and her magical power, wanting to dissect exactly what she did to make them easily agree. She started down the hall where he was slower to follow. “How did you do that?”
“I’m forty-four years old. If I haven’t learned how to talk to children, that’s on me,” she explained as if that answered anything. The logic was so iffy he slowed his steps even further, analyzing her Confucius says style of teaching. “I made you dinner. The girls helped. The mashed potatoes are a little salty. That’s a Mae thing. She insisted you like a lot.” Mashed potatoes generally meant homemade fried chicken. The rest was forgotten as he took long strides to catch up. “How was Keyes?”
Outside of the cookies, he hadn’t eaten since Cash had brought him a vegan bowl of rice and vegetables last night that turned out to be pretty good.
Cash. The name bounced around his head like a happy little bouncy ball.
The guy hadn’t been far from his thoughts all day.