Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“It . . . Indie . . . I . . .”
“Not yet,” Jack told her firmly. He put the plate of food down. “Dinner, then talk.”
“I can’t eat,” she protested.
“You need to eat,” Ian told her. He tried to soften his voice, but it still came out sounding like an order. “Can someone get me a pillow or a cushion?”
“I’ll get it.” Jameson jumped up and ran out of the room.
“He has to chill,” Jack said, returning to the table with a cup of coffee.
“Can I have a coffee?” Maggie asked.
“No,” Ian told her. “You need to eat and drink water. No coffee this late at night. It will keep you up.”
“Jack’s drinking coffee.”
“Jack isn’t my Little. He can do what he likes.”
“It’s good to be Big,” Jack sang.
Turning her head, she poked her tongue out at Jack.
He grinned. “Keep doing that and I’ll find something to occupy that tongue.”
Just as he said that, Jameson walked back in. “Um, I can leave.”
“Nah, we know you like to watch,” Jack said.
“Jack!” Maggie and Jameson said together, before sharing an embarrassed look.
It was cute.
But he had more important things to do.
“I need to tell you about Indie,” she said. “And I still don’t know anything about Uncle Willy.”
“That can wait,” Ian told her firmly as he took the pillow from Jameson and put it between the edge of the table and Maggie’s back. Then he helped her lean back. She gave him a questioning look. “You need to eat.”
She shook her head.
“Yes,” Ian said sternly. “You’re barely eating. You’re not drinking enough. You eat what I feed you, or I’m going to mix up a protein drink and put it in a baby bottle to feed to you.”
It was a threat.
And it backfired spectacularly. Because she blushed, interest filling her eyes before she dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Well, that didn’t go how you thought it would,” Jack murmured. “Luckily, I’m always prepared for any eventuality.” He popped up and rummaged around in a cupboard before pulling out a box.
He carried it over to the table, setting it down before he started pulling things out of it. “Dummy. Sippy cup. Bib. Where is it?”
Ian watched the growing number of things. Each of them had a zebra on it.
“Plate. Cutlery.” The plate had a zebra with a headband of flowers on its head on it. “Here it is. Baby’s bottle. What do you think, baby girl?”
Maggie shook her head and tried to bury her face in Ian’s chest.
“Uh-uh. We all saw how you looked at the sound of a baby’s bottle. Is this something you want? Be honest.” Ian gave her a firm look as he drew her face away from his chest.
“I . . . I . . . yes.” She glanced down at her fingers which were tangled together.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Ian tilted her head back.
“Especially when you’re making all of Ian’s dreams come true,” Jack told her.
Her eyes shot to him, the look of hope in hers nearly flooring him. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” he told her, running a finger over her cheek. “I’ve always wanted a baby girl. But only if that’s what you want.”
“Sometimes. Not all the time,” she confessed. “But especially when I . . . when things . . .”
“When it’s all overwhelming?” Jameson asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll make her a bottle.” Jack grabbed the bottle and headed back into the kitchen.
“She can’t survive on just protein drinks,” Jameson warned. “They can supplement her meals, but not replace them. Not with how much weight she’s lost recently.”
Ian nodded and got her back into position so she was leaning against the pillow. He forked up some food. “You need to eat a few bites before you get your bottle.”
She looked conflicted as she chewed on her lip. But she took several bites of food before Jack returned with her bottle.
“I need to tell you what is going on before . . . before I can . . . relax.”
“Tell us, Little Misfit.”
Maggie couldn’t believe this was happening.
She’d just let Ian feed her. It wasn’t the first time, of course. But the position she was in made it feel more intimate. It made her feel younger.
And more vulnerable.
But it wasn’t a bad feeling. In fact, it would be so easy to sink into their care. To let them take over.
However, she couldn’t do that yet. Not until she got this all off her chest.
“I just called my best friend, Indie. She’s . . . she’s pregnant.”
“Right. She’s the one you’ve been gathering names for,” Ian said.
“Yes. But I . . . she said she’s been trying to call me. She . . . Indie’s in hospital. I need to get back to her. I’m the only person she has.”
“In the hospital?” Jameson asked. “Is there a problem with the baby?”