Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“What are you studying?”
“Ugh.” She makes a face. “Stem cell research applied to Myelodysplastic syndrome. I mean, it’s really fascinating. And it could have implications towards Dad’s research trying to help Mom. They harvested stem cells from my cord blood when I was born, knowing it might help Mom—”
I close the books and her notebook. “When was the last time you ate?”
It seems to me her whole life, her Dad has considered his wife’s needs before his daughter’s. Maybe it’s not my place. I don’t know what I would do if my spouse was sick, but he barely spends any time with Daphne, when she kills herself to please him studying, getting early degrees so she can join him in the lab, and spending all her free time nursing her sick mom.
She looks distracted, her eyes going back to her books guiltily like she feels like she ought to be studying—as if even the thought of taking a break seems selfish.
Which makes me grab the back of her chair and pull it out from the carrel. “No more excuses. We’re going out for a bite.”
Her bright green eyes flash up at me. “We are?”
I give a firm nod. “We are.”
A small smile lights her face. “Okay.”
Good girl, I think but don’t say. The thought immediately discomfits me, though. Especially when her instant obedience has my jeans tightening. I stand back and frown as she grabs her jacket. Shit, I can’t be thinking that way about her. And not just because she’s the boss’s daughter.
Admiring her beauty is one thing, but she’s still way too young. Too naïve for the shit I’m into, especially lately.
You don’t tie nice girls like her up and spank them.
My balls tighten at the image that flashes through my head but I’m not a jackass, so I force it away.
She barely has any friends. That’s all I’m being.
She grabs her purse and then we’re walking together towards the elevator. The silence feels heavy as we ride up to the first floor. She glances my way and her cheeks turn rosy. What’s she thinking about? Is she hoping I’ll grab hold of her and kiss her like they’re always doing on those soapy doctor dramas on TV?
The thought makes me smirk and she immediately looks away, her cheeks going even pinker. So, so innocent. Which makes something in my chest hurt because it’s a rarity.
The ping of the elevator arriving at the first floor startles both of us. She laughs self-consciously and then hurries off.
We settle in at a sandwich shop across the street from the lab. “How’s your mom doing?” I ask after we’ve ordered and sat down.
“She’s doing okay.” Daphne nods enthusiastically. “I’m really hopeful about the new rounds of treatment you, Dad, and Adam have been working on. I spent the morning with her and she was sitting up and we did the crossword. Well, we managed half of it before she got too tired, but I feel like it’s progress.” She bites her lip but keeps nodding, like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.
I can’t help reaching across the table and taking her hand. “Daph, it’s me. You don’t have to bullshit with me. I know everyone else asking you always wants to hear that she’s doing better, but I know her condition. You don’t have to put a pretty spin on shit for me.”
She looks a little surprised, maybe because I cursed in front of her, but then she nods, and finally she doesn’t look like a bobblehead. “Yeah,” she breathes out, her chest deflating a little. “It’s still really hard, actually. I mean, this morning was better than most, but it’s still…”
She looks out the window and tears film over her eyes. She immediately blinks them away, then drops her head like she was embarrassed for me to see.
Fuck, who taught her she had to be like this? I can’t stand to watch it so I scoot my chair around the table and nudge her chin up with my hand. “Hey, Champ, you know it’s okay to be sad, right?”
She glares at me and jerks back. “I’m not a child.”
“Oh believe me, I know,” I mutter darkly.
Her breath hitches. “What does that mean?”
The waitress comes by and delivers our food. “Nothing. Eat your sandwich.”
Daphne’s still frowning at me, but again, does as she’s told. She only takes a tiny, nibbling bite, though.
“Woman, you aren’t a bird. Take a full bite.”
She finishes chewing and lifts an eyebrow at me. “So you’ve noticed I’m a woman now?”
“I don’t know, Champ, you’ve only been one for what?” I look at my wrist and a nonexistent watch, “About three minutes?”
She throws her napkin at me. “Try three months.”
I shrug. “Pot-a-to, pot-ah-to.”
She mock glares at me but does take larger bites of her sandwich, though she only finishes half of it before abandoning it on her plate. In the same amount of time, I’ve devoured my entire sandwich and bag of chips, along with most of my soda. I learned early not to waste food when it was put in front of me.