Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“This way!” Sarah urged.
I was unhappy with the way things seemed so generic and untouched, and soon, I became downright annoyed. The hallways were all white walls with nothing on them. Where were the baby pictures of Sarah? The photos of her and Belladonna? Her school pictures? Something to say that they lived here.
Sarah stopped at a door and pushed it open, then grabbed my hand again and tugged me inside. “This room is yours!” she said proudly.
White walls, beige comforter on the king-size bed. One dresser and a mirror. The only color in the room was the flowers in the vase beside the bed that Sarah had picked for me. I dropped my duffel and forced a smile.
“This is lovely. But I want to see your room,” I told her, hoping there was color in there. That he didn’t have her living in a room with bare white walls.
Belladonna led the way, as if she knew exactly what I had just said. I didn’t doubt she did. I’d lived with her for two years. I knew how smart she was. Sarah giggled at her friend, and we followed the furry fluff into the room across the hallway.
Although the walls were white, drawings had been taped to them, adding color. The cotton-candy-pink comforter wasn’t new. It didn’t look old, but Sarah’s favorite color hadn’t been pink since she had been five. Right now, she loved all things teal blue, and pink made her crinkle her cute little nose in distaste.
I had five days to fix this, and I intended to. Starting with her room. She needed to feel like this was a home—her home.
“It’s so big!” I said, not able to think of much to say about it. “And your drawings are beautiful.”
She shrugged. “Thanks. It’s okay.” Her eyes went to the pink bedding, and her nose did the crinkle.
Yep, we were fixing that ASAP.
“Where is your dad?” I asked, trying not to sound angry.
Sarah swung her gaze from the offending comforter to the door. “He was in his room, packing. It’s on the third floor with his office and library.”
I didn’t want to go up to his private area. I’d wait until he came down to leave.
“Well, lead the way to the kitchen. I could eat a cupcake or two. Let’s go make some.”
Sarah’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “Okay!”
I hurried behind her as she ran from the room with Belladonna on her heels.
Six
Wilder
The smell of cupcakes baking filled the downstairs as I reached the bottom step. Instead of going into the kitchen, I headed for the front door to leave my suitcase before facing Oakley and telling Sarah bye. She had been so happy since I’d agreed to have Oakley come stay with her that it was hard to be mad about it.
However, knowing Oakley was now in my home, in my space, cooking in my kitchen, the annoyance was back. For Sarah’s sake, I wouldn’t let that show.
It wasn’t like I had a reason to be pissed. Sarah wanted to see Oakley, and the fact that she was here had given me my daughter back in many ways. She had talked more this week. She laughed and smiled. There was less watching television and more drawing, planning what they were going to do while Oakley was here, and just being a kid. She had even made a friend at school.
I knew I owed all that to Oakley coming here, but, damn, I hated that she made my daughter happy. If it were anyone else, I’d be offering to pay them to move into one of the guest bedrooms and live here. Seeing as it was Oakley, that was a hard hell no.
My eyes always seemed to have a mind of their own when it came to that woman. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, they locked on her. There was a streak of flour on her face and some chocolate icing on her chin. Her smile was so damn big as she helped Sarah measure out sugar for another bowl of what I assumed was more icing that I felt that kick in my chest. The one only Oakley could inspire and had been causing since she had been sixteen years old.
Belladonna was lying on the tiled floor, watching them with complete interest, and only glanced at me briefly. She still wasn’t sure she cared for me, and that was mostly my fault. I hadn’t taken time to form a relationship with the dog.
Oakley stuck her finger in the mixing bowl, then smeared orange-colored icing across Sarah’s cheek. The giggles that erupted from my daughter eased the tension that having Oakley here triggered.
The blue eyes that had drawn me in the first time I laid eyes on her lifted to meet mine, and the smile on her face wavered. She wasn’t thrilled to see me.