Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Mrs. C hums at that and helps me fix a tray of milk, blueberry-topped cinnamon rolls, and a side of banana slices. She hands me the loaded tray with a smile. “Emma’s my only daughter. If you hurt her, you’ll wish that Benson had let you die in the field.”
Mrs. C gives me a small push when my feet don’t move. “Go on. You don’t want the blueberry syrup to get cold. It’s better when it’s warm.”
A little dazed, I deliver the food to Emma, pausing only to knock once before entering. She’s still under the covers, but she’s awake, scrolling through her phone.
“Trying to search for pics of me on the internet?” I joke.
“Watching videos of Emanuel the emu on TikTok. I think I need an emu.” She shows me the screen, and I watch a fifteen-second video of an emu pecking a camera until it drops to the ground.
“Seems dangerous.” I place the tray on her lap and fork up a bite for her. “Eat up. I made this for you.”
“Mom made them. I heard her.”
“I made the syrup topping. Give me some credit for my hard work,” I mock complain.
“What in the hell are you doing in my sister’s bedroom?” shouts Frank from the door.
“Feeding her breakfast,” I reply without turning around. I cut off another piece with the side of the fork and lift it to Emma’s mouth. Her eyes sparkle with mirth. “Your mom threatened me with my life if I didn’t get in here and make sure your sister started her day right.”
“Bullshit.” He stomps off. “Ma, Emma’s got a man in her bedroom. She’s still in her bed!”
“Do you think he’s going to ravish her before he’s had his morning coffee? Besides, the door is open, isn’t that right, Vincent?” Mrs. C raises her voice.
“Wide open. Can feel the breeze from the front door,” I yell back.
Emma starts laughing so hard that I have to lift the tray off her lap. “Of all the things I expected to happen this morning, none of this was on the list.”
“Stick with me, babe, and all your days will be fun.” I bite off half of the cinnamon roll and lean back to enjoy the sight of a smiley, tousled Emma lying in her childhood bed, eating breakfast and looking like my whole future.
CHAPTER 12
EMMA
“Heard you smacked someone last night,” Sam says as he throws a small, squishy football into the air and catches it. He’s laid out on the stretcher.
“Did you steal your own kids' toy?” He tosses the football into the air again, almost hitting the ceiling of the ambulance this time. I lean forward and catch it before he can.
“I borrowed it. Besides, I bought it.” I snort a laugh at how defensive he is. “All she does is drool all over it anyways. She’s not gonna miss it.”
“Gross.” I toss the football back to him.
Today was the first time I wasn’t in the mood to go to work. Vincent is only going to be here for a week, and I wanted to soak up as much of him as I could. It’s probably a good thing, though. I don’t want to be all needy and clingy. I’ve got to play it cool. Maybe I should smack him again. Wonder what he’d do if I did it when no one else was around. I think I might end up with a few smacks back but on my ass.
Oh God, what has this man done to my mind? I’m starting to think I might have some of those kinks Melody sometimes mentions are in the books she’s always got her face shoved inside. I should borrow one. See what’s up.
“Earth to Emma,” Sam says a second before the squishy football hits me in the side of the head.
“Hey!”
“Where the hell did you just go? I asked you three questions, and you didn’t respond to any of them.”
“You did?” I reach down and pick the football back up and chuck it at him. He’s lucky the damn thing is squishy.
“The guy you smacked.”
“What about him?”
“Is this like that thing where boys pull girls' hair in grade school when they’ve got a crush on them?”
“Sam, I swear to the football gods if you ever tell your daughter that a boy pulling her hair is a sign of a crush, you’ll end up strapped to that gurney.”
“I was only teasing. I’ll kick the little shit’s ass if any boy pulls her precious curls.”
“You better.” I lean back against the door. We’ve been parked for over five hours at this point. Only a few more to go. I’m surprised it took Sam this long to bring up the slapping thing, but we spent a good hour talking shit on police chief Blake Finley.
“So are you going to make me pull it out of you?”