Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Wild is a lot of things.
And he definitely likes to think of himself as cool.
He’s a mess, is what he is. I’ve observed the way he picks at Raegan whenever he’s here. I won’t lie and say I don’t secretly root for them to fall for each other, but that won’t happen anytime soon.
Raegan can’t stand Wild.
I’m about to go back over to the stove to check the potatoes when Raegan bursts into the house. She hollers about Ryder and stomps into the kitchen.
“Mom! Do something about your bratty kid!”
I turn to find her standing in the kitchen, hands on her hips and tapping her foot incessantly. “Which one?”
She groans and rolls her eyes. Even when she’s being the bratty kid, she’s beautiful. A spitting image of her father. Me and Reed sure do make some pretty babies.
“Ryder, the rotten piece of sh—”
She’s cut off by Ryder’s booming voice. “Mom!”
Ronan shoots me an exasperated look. Never a dull moment with Ryder and Raegan. Never.
“What?” I call out, lifting a brow at a fuming Raegan. “I’m in here.”
Ryder stalks into the kitchen, pushes past his sister, and stands right in front of me. He’s strong, built of solid muscle, and towers over me. But tattling on his sister reminds me of when he was five.
“She kicked me,” he growls, thrusting a finger at his sister.
“Raegan,” I start, shooting her a frown. “Why did you kick your brother?”
“Because he’s a thief!” she bellows. “Stay out of my stuff, thief!”
Ryder growls. “For fuuuu-dge sake. I can’t steal what already belongs to me!”
“Nice save,” I mutter, side-eyeing him for almost dropping an F-bomb in my kitchen. “And this had better not be about that stupid knife again.”
“It’s always about the knife,” Ronan chimes in. “Maybe I should take it.”
Ryder and Raegan bark a vehement “No,” in unison.
“The knife is about to go in the river,” I threaten. “Now, both of you get washed up and help me set the table for supper.”
“Dad needs me,” Ryder blurts out, taking off out of the kitchen at a breakneck speed.
I shake my head and then pin Raegan with a hard stare. “Don’t you dare.”
After a small hissy fit, she finally relents and passes out plates.
This house is nothing but chaos, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I can’t believe you hid a bag of marshmallows from me,” I grumble to Reed with narrowed eyes. “That’s grounds for divorce.”
He jerks his head my way but still manages to help Declan put his marshmallow on his stick. “What’s that, wifey?”
I pat Dawson’s bottom, happy he finally fell asleep after a mini meltdown after supper. Soon, I’ll take him inside to put him down for the night. Until then, I’ll continue to enjoy poking at my bear.
“What’s a divorce?” Kota asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Something your momma isn’t allowed to have,” Reed growls. “Right, babe?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I mean, if you hold out on me when it comes to sweets, I might have to get one. That’s just rude.”
He flashes me a dark look that promises a palm to my ass later. I shiver despite the roaring fire going in the pit. He’s momentarily distracted when Declan starts crying because his marshmallow caught fire.
We come out to the fire pit often in the evenings. Of course, the older kids are too cool to hang out with their parents, but Destiny and the three younger boys enjoy this time together.
“Here,” Destiny says from nearby. “You can have mine, Deck.”
Declan sniffles before running over to his sister. She helps as he messily eats the marshmallow. I’m still grinning at them when a shadow looms over me. Reed holds a blackened marshmallow on the end of a stick just out of reach.
“That for me, Daddy?”
His nostrils flare, and his tongue runs along his bottom lip. If we didn’t have an audience, he’d probably toss me over his shoulder and take me away to do dirty things.
“You can’t ever leave me,” he says, eyes hotter than the fire. “Ever, Pip. You’re mine. Always.”
I melt under his possessive words. “Next time I get my period, don’t hold out on me. You know I love marshmallows.”
A slow, sinister grin curls his lips up. “Beautiful, you’re not getting your period for a long-ass time.”
He’s so sure of himself and his baby-making skills.
“I’m serious,” I say, standing my ground. “I can handle a lot, but if you ever withhold marshmallows from me again, you’ll see my breaking point.”
“Noted,” he says with a smirk. He leans in over the baby to kiss my lips. “Now eat this before you lose your shit.”
He plucks the gooey marshmallow off the stick and then crams it into my mouth. I glower at him despite the wonderful taste. When he smears the sticky residue from his fingers on the tip of my nose, I’m the one shooting him a threatening glare.