Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My eyes follow everybody else's to the thin sixty-something year old adjusting his spectacles. Clearly Sadie's old man.
“Oh, Peter, good news. I've found my muse again. Sit down, before you swallow your own tongue. He's here to help me, believe it or not.”
Red's grip on my hand becomes a vice. She mouths her next few words: Jesus. This is bad.
“What the hell is he doing here, Stephanie?” Peter steps closer, giving Red the evil eye.
It's my turn to stand. I've got to try and diffuse a clusterfuck for once, instead of setting it off.
“Dropped your son's truck off. You're welcome. We'll be showing ourselves the door.”
“Oh, Peter, give him a chance! He's not here to light the house on fire or anything.” Mrs. Kelley stands. Laying her hands on her husband's shoulders, she tries to smother the look of a man facing an intruder. “I want to paint him and his darling little girl. Don't make this difficult.”
“Paint him? In this house?” Peter faces Sadie again, his eyes darkening. He sees Mia, and I think it's the only reason he doesn't explode. “Did you put her up to this, Sadie?”
“Dad, calm down. I didn't do anything!” Red raises her hands, stretching them between us. “All her idea. Marshal's a good man, believe it or not. I say we let her.”
Her father's stare intensifies. So cold, cruel, bewildered, and fixed on her. You can't be fucking serious is written all over him.
“Has anyone even thought what Jackson will think?” he says.
“Yeah, I have.” I steal her old man's gaze. “I'll keep out of his way. What happened with us years ago is ancient history. I'll help your wife make art. I'm doing this for my little girl, and Sadie, too.”
A total lie. Several, probably. But it's also the one choice phrase that might let us walk out of here whole.
“I'll call later, dad. We'll talk then. Right now, we've got to go,” Sadie whispers in my ear, tugging on my shirt.
Finally a wise idea. I walk over to the table, grab Mia, and brush past Mrs. Kelley. She gives my shoulder a quick pat on the way out, dumping gasoline on the raging fire in this house. “I'll let Sadie give you the best times for my studio. It's nice to have something to look forward to again.”
Resisting the urge to cringe, we keep moving. Nothing matters more than getting the hell out of here, leaving the flaming wreckage behind.
“Christ, Marshal. You're really willing to sit there while she paints you? How will you get Mia to sit still for so long?” I'm crunched up in the passenger seat in her old Toyota. Feels more out of place than ever being blasted by her questions.
“We'll work it out, Red. Quit your worries. Mia's excited – aren't you, honeybee?” I look at my dozing daughter in the mirror.
She opens one little eye and nods vigorously, before passing out in the kiddie seat again. Who the hell can blame her? The tension we left behind was so thick it could choke a man. Takes its toll on a mind. So does the winter cold, newly sprinkled with a slow-moving, wispy snowfall.
We're leaving town, winding toward the bluffs as she drives.
“Why did you do this? Really, I mean? Won't it interfere with work? And, Jesus, the drama!” She brakes hard at the stop sign, just a few miles from the overgrown road winding into my place.
“Why're you flipping out when a man finally does you a favor, Red?” I watch her blink. “You told me your ma's not all there. She lost her marbles struggling with her muse or whatever, yeah?”
Slowly, Red nods. “Not your problem. You're paying me to look after Mia, remember? I don't need you fixing my family issues.”
“Didn't pay you for last night either,” I growl, reaching for her hand. “That was you and me. Not boss and nanny. Something else.”
“That was...” She pauses, leaving me to wonder if it's mistake at the tip of her tongue. “That was different. You and me, I mean. Nobody else to worry about with any of that. This is my mother, Marshal. My very screwed up, sometimes very scary mother.”
She shakes her head, bringing the car down the home stretch. I wait until we're parked. Then I reach over, cup her chin, and guide her face to mine. “Quiet. Just let me fucking help without making it so hard, beautiful.”
I glance at Mia. She's still fast asleep. I lean in, whispering the next part in Sadie's reddening ear. “You want to make this an even trade? Fine. Give me another taste of last night.”
There's no time to answer. My lips attack hers. Then they don't stop.
Thank fuck, too. Guilt and lies are no match for drowning in her sweetness. My dick throbs, angrier than usual, ready as hell to be in her.