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)
The place is bigger than I imagined. We spend the next two hours in a crash course on river history, steamboat models, a menagerie of Mississippi wildlife. Fish, turtles, birds, and otters fight for space in my crowded memory.
As awesome as it is, my mind is somewhere else. I think the part I remember most about our little outing is the ice cream shop across the street later.
That's where honeybee looks up, lips smacking melted chocolate, and drops an atomic bomb on her poor father's head. “Daddy, why you and Sadie got the same room now?”
My heart stops. Marshal's eyes shift, first to his little girl, then to me.
I set my half-finished cup of ice cream on the table and lift my water, sipping carefully. It helps hide how bad I want to cough. Oh, Jesus. If his eyes are any indication, this is a crisis.
“We're grownups, baby girl. Sometimes adults do grownup things, and sleeping in the same bed some nights is part of that. Don't you worry,” he says, rubbing her tiny head. “If there's ever a new mommy one fine day, I'll be the first to tell you.”
She looks at him, taking another uneven bite of ice cream, a vague satisfaction in her eyes. “But...I want Sadie, daddy. I like her. Want Sadie to stay. And I want a puppy. A poodle or a pomer-mar-anian.”
Say something! I keep telling myself, trying to prevent a train wreck. But for the life of me, I don't know what.
“We'll see about the Pomeranian, dearie.” I'm turning into my mother. I smile, thinking of the last painting mom did. Marshal was a huge dark shadow looking over the little girl and her dog, an otherworldly contrast. “As for your dad and I –“
“We're grownups.” Marshal cuts me off. “Good friends. Patient people.”
I cock my head, wondering what he means by the last part. His blue gaze could set me on fire. I test the waters, reaching for his huge hand. He takes it in front of Mia, coils his fingers in mine, and squeezes so hard my knuckles go white.
“You're a babe, honeybee. So young, so innocent, so many years ahead. Listen to daddy: a whole heck of a lot can change. One day, you're with us here. No higher than my knees. Enjoying an ice cream with your old man and your nanny. Flash forward five years, and it all might be different. Everything. Even this family.”
The little girl goes quiet, licking at her ice cream. I wonder if she understands.
Hell, do I? Am I reading too much into what this gorgeous brute with a new softness in his voice means?
Don't look too hard between the lines, Red. You'll hurt your pretty eyes.
I remember his words from his morning. Remember, and smile, because the message in his couldn't be clearer. There's no need to decipher anything.
He's telling me he's open. He won't deny this invisible, wonderfully weird chemistry. He won't run if we're destined to...I don't even know.
But I want to find out.
“Daddy?” Mia lowers the cone pinched in her little hands.
“Yeah, honeybee?” Marshal takes her hand, still holding mine in the other.
“Will you ever find me a mommy?”
He's avoiding my eyes when he speaks again, but there's a soft certainty in his voice anyway. “Sure, Mia. If it's meant to be.”
His fingers pulse around mine. I pinch his strong, steady hand harder.
I'm ready once we finally lock eyes. He's hidden so many things in those eyes. His anguish, his secrets, the demons from the past that are always there.
Today, there's something else. I think I see a future, or maybe just a chance.
Whatever it is, I'll follow. I'll trust. I'll see the end of this crazy thing, and I'll do it with a pout on my lips and a glint in my eye.
I'll do it because every minute we spend together, I don't want this to end.
It's later the same week and he's up early. I come down at my usual time, expecting to find Marshal in his shop.
But he's not alone in the kitchen today. There's a woman at the table with curly blonde hair, sad blue eyes, and full Monroe lips. Jealousy shoots through me. I duck around the corner, grateful honeybee isn't up yet, and eavesdrop shamelessly.
“Believe me, Marshal, I've tried. Spent way too much on the investigator last year,” she says, frustration in her voice. “The army won't re-open the case. They say there's too much classified material still. And everything is cut and dry. God, if you hadn't told me what you saw over there, I wouldn't have even known. I'd have thought Adam died honorably and –“
“He did, Bev. The dirt doesn't take away from his sacrifice. Now, forget it. We don't need to go there again. Told you a million times: save your funds. Those fucks in the kangaroo courts won't do crap unless it involves bad press. Too much politics. We won't find any justice throwing money down a black hole.”