Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“How did that come about? Jenna, I mean. She was a foster kid, too, huh?”
He lets out a sad sigh. “I never knew about her. The woman—her mother—I’d been with long ago never mentioned having a baby and nothing ever surfaced when she died. But when I looked at Jenna for the first time, I knew she was mine. It was a chance ER meeting, but it changed my life for the better.”
Seems like this happens a lot for the good doctor.
“Kind of like us?”
“Jenna let me in her life almost instantly. You, though, require a lot more work.” He winks at me. “My daughter and a little girl named Cora have been inseparable since Cora was put into the foster system. Jenna wants to adopt her, and at the very least foster her so they can be together. Problem is, she’s just not old enough or established or experienced.”
My eyes prickle with tears as I glance back at the car seat. “You’re doing this for her?”
“She’s my daughter. I have to do everything in my power to make her happy. That’s what dads do.”
I take his hand and thread our fingers together before squeezing him. “I like you, Dr. Dan.”
“I like you too, angel.”
We end up chattering about other lighter topics as we make it into downtown. The traffic isn’t too bad and he finds us a parking spot on the street down one of the busier avenues that’s lined with shops and restaurants.
“You hungry yet?” he asks as we get out of the car.
“I can eat. It’s up to you.”
He looks up at the sky and seems to be mentally calculating something. With a shake of his head, he points toward an old brick building. “Let’s kill an hour or so in here and then we’ll head to the restaurant.”
I take his hand and allow him to guide the way. It feels right with our fingers linked together. Sure, I’ve been on a few dates, but we always go to the movies or a chain Italian restaurant. This feels different. Nice, but definitely different.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we walk.
The air is warm, but the breeze that drifts past us is just cool enough to keep you from getting hot.
“Shopping.”
“A girl could always go shopping,” I say with a laugh.
“I need to pick out something for my mom. Maybe you can help.”
Sadness clutches at me for my own mom, but pride that he wants my help overshadows that. We find a small trinket shop and step inside. It smells like oranges in the quaint shop. He makes a beeline over to an array of dog-themed glass collectibles.
“She likes dogs?” I ask, picking up a Doberman figurine.
“Not that kind,” he says with a chuckle before pointing at one of the glass Yorkies.
“Aww,” I say with a smile. “It’s cute. You should get it for her.”
“My mom makes a great meatloaf. You should come Sunday to dinner with me.”
I dart my gaze to his. He’s no longer looking at the decorations, but searing his green eyes into me.
“You want me to meet your mom?”
He cups my cheek. “More importantly, I want my mom to meet you.” He chuckles. “I can’t promise she won’t drive you crazy, though. You’ll be the first woman I’ve ever brought home for her to meet.”
This has me gaping. “The first one? Ever?”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. But it’s huge. It blows my mind he’s never been in such a relationship with a woman that he’d introduce her to his mother, yet here I am, barely blown into his life and he’s asking for that very thing.
“I’ll go with you.” I pause, furrowing my brows. “I think Mom would have wanted me to get out of the house and not mope around.”
His lips quirk up on one side. “It’s a date then. Another one.”
“As long as you keep your promise about what happens after date one, then I’ll so be looking forward to date two.”
He dips down and kisses the top of my head while copping a feel of my ass. “Oh, that’s a promise.”
We manage to pay and leave the shop without jumping each other’s bones. I tuck the trinket away in my purse and we continue on our trek. When we come to an old, used bookstore, I let out a little squeal of delight. Daniel laughs and opens the door to the shop for me.
As soon as I walk in, I inhale the musty but familiar scent of books. I wasn’t a reader until Mom got sick. Sitting by someone’s bedside while they slept tends to get boring. Social media doesn’t offer the same escape that a book does. And when I was aching so badly, an escape was exactly what I needed.
This particular bookstore is one I haven’t been in, and the thrill of an exciting new adventure looms. I walk straight over to the classics, hunting for the oldest looking versions of my favorites I can find. I love photographing them for my blog. From the corner of my eye, I take note of Daniel browsing a section nearby. My heart flutters that he’s left me to my own devices. A girl could get lost for hours in a bookstore.