Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 716(@200wpm)___ 573(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 716(@200wpm)___ 573(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
“Sweetheart,” I cut Bronagh off. “We have savings for a reason. This kind of reason.”
She tensed all over again as she placed a large pancake on top of four others next to the large omelette that I assumed was for me.
“Heat the eggs up,” she grumbled. “They’ve been coolin’ while I made the pancakes.”
I watched her as she moved around me.
“Bronagh, honey—”
“I’m goin’ to get a shower,” she cut me off, leaving the room. “I won’t be long.”
I stared after her, frowning. I had no idea why she was so worried about our finances all of a sudden. Ten years ago, I got a loan from my older brother Kane and bought a broken-down old building in the city centre and demolished it. After rebuilding it from the ground up, I opened Slater’s 24/7 Fitness. Every month since it opened nine years ago, it’d turned a considerable profit. I was even considering opening a second gym in Tallaght because the main one was doing so well. I had paid Kane back and had no debt whatsoever.
Bronagh knew all of this, so I had no idea why she was worrying about paying for our children’s sports gear or art supplies. I had enough to buy hundreds of football cleats. Hell, we could buy another house if we wanted to. My instinct was to follow her and find out what was truly bothering her, but over the years, I’d learned that she needed her space when she got upset. Normally, I invaded her space and didn’t give her a chance to run away when an argument got her going, but right now, something else was bothering her. I had to time when I chose to talk to her about it.
With a sigh, I turned to my plate of food and put it into the microwave as instructed. While it heated, I went to the refrigerator with the intention of pouring myself a large glass of orange juice, but when I lifted the carton and found it was empty, I scowled and shut the door with a little force before I turned to my sons.
“Which one of you morons put the empty OJ carton back in the refrigerator?”
Quinn and Griffin pointed at one another, but when Quinn scowled and slapped Griffin’s hand, Griffin yelped, most likely thinking Quinn was going to pound on him for lying, which I knew he had done.
“Griffin?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes still on his older brother. “I forgot.”
“How do you forget the carton is empty when you can feel it’s fucking empty?”
Quinn glanced around me, looking for his mom, but when he saw she wasn’t there, he kept his mouth shut about my cussing. I rarely cussed in front of my kids, and especially not to them, but sometimes, they irritated the life out of me when they did dumb shit, and it just slipped out. Putting an empty carton of orange juice back into the refrigerator was a dumb shit thing to do.
“I’m sorry, Da.”
I sighed. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.”
“And I’m sorry for cussing.”
Griffin’s lips twitched. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”
Quinn laughed but muffled it with his hand while I smirked.
“You’ll tattle on me to your mom otherwise?”
“Well, duh, I’m hardly gonna try to fight you.”
I snorted. “You’ll be as big as me someday. You both will.”
“In height, yeah, probably, but ye’ work out a lot. I don’t think I’d be into that. I’m lazy.”
Griffin was lazy.
If you gave him the choice to go outside to play and get fresh air, or stay inside and play video games all day, his games would win every single time. He was on the soccer team purely out of parental force. Bronagh and I ran out of ideas to entice him to leave the house, so we had to resort to giving him an ultimatum. He either joined the soccer team or picked a different sport or activity to participate in, or all his gaming consoles, his computer, and his phone were going in the trash.
He signed up for the soccer team the next day.
Beau, at fourteen, played for the sixteen and under soccer team, Quinn and Griffin, who were twelve and eleven, played for the under thirteen team, and Axel had just joined the under eight team. Griffin tolerated the soccer team, but damn, the kid was good. Luckily, Beau and Quinn were awesome too, but they lived and breathed the sport. It wasn’t punishment to make them go to practice or to games; it was punishment to stop them from attending. Axel’s team wasn’t competitive because of the age group, so his games were just for fun, but he loved it.
Then there was Georgie, who was fifteen. My eldest, my only girl ... the only girl out of the twenty-five children my brothers and I have fathered.