Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Ah.
A trick I wish I wasn’t so fucking familiar with them using.
“Except there’s nothing to slip. Even if I wanted to hook up with Wes – which again I don’t – it wouldn’t matter. Wes only has eyes for you.”
Despite all my efforts, a tiny smile slides into place.
“Like break his neck to watch you walk anywhere in the building shit.”
The expression grows.
“It so cute, it’s gross.”
At least there’s no denying he still finds me attractive even when I’m not slobbing on his knob.
Shout out to Hill for listening to more Three 6 Mafia and less Cooper Copeland.
I mean I love that fine ass cowboy’s music, but a little variety is appreciated.
Especially when hearing that song leads to an impromptu reenacting of it in the middle of your husband’s workday.
“No cap?” She lets her head tip to one side. “I don’t wanna bang my boss. I’m not banging my boss. I have no interest in banging my boss.”
“Just the member of his security team, you’re already banging.”
“Exactly!”
Triumphant over getting my confirmation causes me to grin wide but Jessie to panic.
“Ohshit,” she squeaks, both hands flying over her mouth. “Thatwasntsupposedtocomeout!”
“Relax,” I casually brush off courtesy of the tiny tugs occurring on my dress. “I won’t say anything.” The continuous pulling eventually has my crystal gaze falling to meet the one I passed it along to. “Can I help you?”
His bottom lip pokes itself out as far as it can go. “Got ouchie.”
“I know.”
“Ouchie hurt.”
“That’s why we call them ouchies, Little Fins.”
“No like.”
“And I don’t like when you don’t wanna listen to me.”
“Sowrryzies.”
At that, I lower myself down to a squat so we’re eye level. “What do you think you should try next time you’re on the swings?”
“Boddom. Not tummy.”
“Good plan.”
Wy dramatically sticks his bottom lip out again and taps a pointed finger near the tiny red mark on his chin. “See ouchie?”
It’s almost impossible to keep my emotionless expression. “I do.”
“Hurts.”
“Really bad?”
“Weally, weally bad, Mom.”
“Guess we’ll just have to snip it off.”
Jessie dramatically gasps to amplify the effect and considering how wide his gaze grows, it’s safe to assume it worked. “Should I get the emergency scissors?!”
“No…” Wy quickly shakes his head, tiny palm stretched out in her direction. “No, thank you.”
“You sure, Little Fins?” Swallowing my snickers increases in difficulty. “Snip, snap, snop, and that pain’ll stop.”
“I sure.”
“Really, really sure?”
“Stuper. Sure.”
“Hm,” I playfully hum while winding my arms around his tiny frame. “Should we try something else?”
“Kisses!”
“You want me to kiss your ouchie better?”
Wy proudly nods as though his manipulation tactic is working.
“I don’t know, Little Fins.” Seriousness slinks back into my stare. “Should you get kisses when you get hurt doing what Mom told you not to do?”
His little jaw bobs in objection, an expression that looks identical to Wes’s.
Ugh.
Talk about painfully precious.
“How about you give Mom hugs for hurting her feelings by not listening to her when she was trying to keep you safe, and she’ll give you kisses to help make the ouchie go away because she loves you even while you’re learning to listen?”
“Deal!” His tiny arms fly around my neck while his head thumps harshly against my shoulder upon landing. From the first tiny squeeze, all previous annoyance over his inability to follow instructions, his disregard for my opinion, and his refusal to be wrong, disappears leaving behind only love.
Undeniable.
Unbreakable.
Unconditional.
Love.
I flex my arms and cradle him closer.
Breath in the unmatched joy he brings.
Exhale the untouched exhaustion he delivers.
This kid – my kid – is a mini-Captain Kirk.
Too smart for his own good.
Too stubborn for his own safety.
Too sly for his own best interest.
He knows every button on our ship to push, that he shouldn’t push, that he’ll probably regret pushing, and yet it all only makes me love him more, especially when he’s snuggled against me like this.
With him in my arms, nothing else matters.
Not bullshit lies or tabloid rumors.
Not painfully early mornings after a sleepless night with him in our bed or headache inducing dinners because he doesn’t feel like having asparagus.
Not even my deepest, darkest, bottom of the ocean fears that I’m royally fucking him up by simply being his mom.
No.
Whenever Wy’s tiny body is curled around mine, all is right in the world.
Exactly as it should be.
Funny enough, whenever Wes holds me in a similar position, I think the same shit.
There’s just something about being wrapped up in the arms of my Wilcoxes that brings an undeniable, sunset serenity to my entire existence.
Even when they’ve been total assholes.
“I wuv you, Mom,” Wy warmly says when he pulls back to look at me in the eyes.
“I love you too, Wy.”
He swiftly makes a demand after hearing me say it back, “Kiss ouchie.”
“Manners, Little Fins.”
“Pwease.”
My lips plant the tiniest peck on the area; however, he melts like he was just cured of Anchilles fever. “Better?”