Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Oh, sorry,” Trevor conceded, lifting his hands in mock surrender.
“Me hungwy.”
“I’m okay,” I cut in with a small shake of my head. I wasn’t sure how I’d choke anything down, my stomach was still so upset.
“I’ll just grab Etta something, then,” he said, watching for my nod before he moved toward the fridge. “I’ve got some apple slices in here.”
“Apples!” Etta said, kicking her legs to get down.
I set her on her feet and moved to the counter, practically collapsing onto the bar stool there. Man, I was exhausted. I hadn’t really slept since the night before last and now that the adrenaline was wearing off I was beginning to feel the effects.
“You have presliced apples?” I asked, leaning my elbows on the counter as Trevor crouched down to hand Etta the small package.
“Yeah. It’s wasteful,” he said sheepishly. “But I don’t like eating apples whole.”
“They taste different when they’re sliced?” I asked, sort of joking, but mostly confused.
“No.” Trevor smiled up at me. “I just don’t like biting into them. The skin gets stuck in my front teeth.”
“I feel that way about corn on the cob.”
“What?” He shook his head in disappointment. “You don’t like corn on the cob? That’s just wrong.”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” I murmured, resting my head on my arms. “I just always cut it off the cob instead of eating it like a savage.”
“Sabbage,” Etta said dramatically, chomping into an apple slice.
“You’re so ferocious,” Trevor replied, poking her gently in the side.
“No, Me is sabbage,” Etta growled, baring her teeth and half the apple in her mouth.
“She’s something,” I mumbled with a snort.
“Hey,” Trevor said quietly, coming to his feet. “Why don’t you lay down for a while?”
“I’m okay,” I argued, straightening. I was tired, but it wasn’t like I was about to drop. I still had things to do. I needed to check on Miranda. Etta was peeking inside all the kitchen cabinets she could reach, and I had to make sure she didn’t get into anything she wasn’t supposed to. At some point, I needed to call my dad and tell him where we were, without telling him why we were there. I couldn’t just go to sleep, I had to keep an eye on everything and everyone. That was my job.
“Well, I can keep an eye on the little miss,” Trevor said, replying to the words I hadn’t realized I’d muttered under my breath. Maybe I was more tired than I thought. “Why don’t you go in and check on your sister? Your dad can wait.”
I looked at him, then at Etta, then back at him again. I trusted him. I wouldn’t be in his house if I didn’t. However, leaving my child in someone else’s care had never been easy for me, and his muscular shoulders and beautiful smile didn’t change that.
“We’ll stay in the house,” he promised, lifting Etta into his arms. “Watch a movie. Maybe go get the P-U-P-P-Y out of his kennel for a little playtime.”
I shook my head. “I’m okay—”
“Let me do this for you,” Trevor said firmly, cutting me off. “Let me help.”
“You’ve already helped,” I replied, waving a hand through the air at his clean but oddly impersonal house.
“Then let me help some more.”
We stared at each other for a long time before I finally conceded with a small nod. I rose wearily from my seat and ran a hand down my ponytail, glancing around to make sure there wasn’t anything else I needed to do before I went in to Miranda.
“We’re good,” Trevor said, coming around the counter. “Go.”
“Mama’s going to take a nap,” I told Etta. “You want to hang with Trevor for a while?”
“Twevo,” she mumbled around her mouth full of apple, nodding happily.
“Be careful,” I warned him. “Make sure she chews it up really good.”
“I will,” he said, resting a hand on my back for just a second before giving me a gentle shove. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Yeah, yeah. She has a sippy cup and diapers in the diaper bag. There’s also a change of clothes. Not sure why she’d need them, but—”
“Morgan,” Trevor mumbled in amusement. “Go.”
“Fine.”
I walked down the hallway and knocked quietly on my sister’s door but didn’t wait for her to answer it before I pushed my way inside. She was lying on the bed on top of the linens, but she’d pulled the sides of the comforter up until she was wrapped like a burrito, and she was fast asleep.
I breathed a sigh of relief and climbed in next to her, careful not to touch her. We’d always been able to cuddle up when we shared a bed—it wouldn’t be anything new, but I didn’t want to chance it. She’d seemed okay when I’d touched her earlier in the day, but after she’d shied away from Trevor, I wasn’t sure if I should make contact, especially when she was sleeping.