Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I’m not sure what time it is when I wake up, but the sun is shining bright and I only feel a little bit like shit. A definite improvement to last night, anyway.
Stretching my arms over my head, I listen for any signs of life in the house, but it’s quiet. Makes me wonder if I’m here by myself.
Stella’s been staying at Samson’s place more and more. She thinks she’s slick, but I know what she’s doing. My little sister is pushing hard for me to pursue Frankie, and while I know she loves spending the night with her boyfriend—fucking gag me—I also know these recent sleepovers have been as much for my benefit as they have hers.
I lie around for a few more minutes before finally forcing myself out of the bed. A quick glance at my phone screen tells me it’s nearly lunchtime.
Damn.
It’s been years since I’ve slept this late, but I guess I needed it.
After a quick shower, I dress in a fresh pair of sweats and venture out into the kitchen for some water, but stop in my tracks when I see Frankie standing at the stove with her back to me.
She’s stirring a large pot of something, softly humming to herself. Watching her, it does something to me. It’s almost like she’s unleashed this dormant domestic side of me I never knew existed.
It sounds dumb—I know, but before her… before Maverick… my life was late nights and random hookups. But now, I’d rather stay in and watch the fucking Disney channel with Mav. It’s like some Freaky Friday shit, only I like it.
Realization dawns… I like the man I am with Frankie. Without even trying, she brings out the best in me. I want more of that, and I want it forever.
“Mav-oh!” She whirls around, presumably to call for Maverick. “You scared me. How are you feeling? Did I wake you?”
“Better, but not great. And no, you didn’t wake me.” I breathe out a laugh and shuffle further into the kitchen. “I actually thought I was home alone, it was so quiet.”
“Oh, good. Mav’s watching a show on my phone with some headphones. I told him you needed to rest.”
Something inside of me warms at her thoughtfulness. She’s a nurturer by heart. “Whatcha cooking?”
Her cheeks go rosy. “Some chicken noodle soup. It’s what I like when I’m sick, so I figured you might…”
“You made me soup?” That warm feeling grows, spreading throughout my entire body.
“Um, yeah.” She locks her hands together and rocks back on her heels. “I also ran to the store this morning and got you some Gatorade.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” She turns and grabs three bowls from the cabinet. “But you took such good care of Mav, I figured it was the least I could do.”
I want nothing more than to cross the room and sweep her into my arms, to hold her close, to make her really and truly understand that she doesn’t need to keep thanking me for taking care of Maverick. I know he’s not my son, but in a way, it also kind of feels like he is. I damn sure know I love him like he is. That kid is one of the best things to ever happen to me.
But I know telling her is pointless; I have to show her.
Instead, I grab a Gatorade from the fridge and plant my ass on a stool. “I appreciate you, Frankie,” I say, knowing good and well I mean something else.
Judging from the blush painting her cheeks, I’d say Frankie knows it, too.
She places a steaming bowl in front of me. “If you don’t like the soup, I can make you something else.”
With my eyes locked on hers, I drag the spoon through the broth and then bring it to my lips. I groan in delight the second it hits my tongue. It’s warm and buttery and creamy with hints of garlic. It’s fucking delicious.
“I take it that means you like it?”
“It’s delicious.” I make a show of licking my lips before taking another spoonful. “I appreciate it.”
Frankie’s cheeks go from rosy to beet red and I fucking love it. “Um.” She flexes her fingers at her sides. “Let me just… Maverick! Let me get Maverick.”
She bolts from the kitchen, leaving me smiling into my soup, because yeah—she totally knows.
A few minutes later, Maverick hops up onto the stool beside me. “You all better, O? Mama said I had to be extra quiet so you could sleep.” He blinks twice. “You sleeped for a really long time.”
My shoulders shake with silent laughter. This kid is just too cute. “Yeah, bud. I’m feeling better than I did last night. Still tired though.”
He nods like he totally gets it, and to be fair, I guess he does. “Mama says rest is how the body cooperates.”