Foster (Pittsburgh Titans #13) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Pittsburgh Titans Series by Sawyer Bennett
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
<<<<485866676869707888>98
Advertisement


Her reply is just as fast. I’ve got it all handled. Just bring yourselves.

I smile, because that’s my mom… wanting to handle everything. The quintessential career woman who still tries to be the perfect mother by keeping the house clean and cooking wonderful meals when she can. Sometimes I wonder if she feels guilty because she worked while we were growing up. I particularly wonder if she has regrets about Landon and Mason because part of my teenage years were spent helping to care for them. We’ve never really discussed it but maybe I should bring it up to her.

I almost set my phone back down when I’m compelled to pull up the text thread I have going with Foster. I glance over at Bowie Jane who’s deep into doing her math homework at the kitchen nook table.

Foster texted me this morning. Good morning, sunshine.

He sends that to me every morning and it makes me feel good that I’m on his mind.

I texted back, Good morning, hot stuff. Sleep well?

He responded immediately and I imagined he was in his hotel in New York lying in bed, perhaps with a cup of coffee beside him. I slept very well. What’s on the agenda today?

It was going to be a busy day and I could’ve just said that, but Foster likes to know details. It makes him feel connected. After I drop Bowie Jane off at school, I’m going to get some laundry done. Then I’m going to go over to Leo’s to rehearse. We have an upcoming gig at a bar and we’ve added some new material. And then later I have to run out and get a pair of black pants and a white shirt for Bowie Jane.

Foster shot back an angry emoji face. Damn. I forgot to do that.

Bowie Jane joined the fourth and fifth grade choir at her new school and they’re having a recital next week. All the kids have to wear black pants and white shirts. No worries. I have it covered. Please remember that’s part of my job. You don’t have to do everything, Dad.

I hear you, he wrote back. Thank you for taking such good care of us.

I didn’t want the conversation to end. Bowie Jane and I are going to make quesadillas tonight for dinner. She wants to learn how so she can make them for you since they’re your favorite.

That kid loves her dad so much and I never want to miss an opportunity to remind him of that. His reply was expected—a mixture of dad pride and a joke to slough off the emotion. She’s growing up too fast. Ten years old and already cooking. Please don’t let her burn the house down.

I laughed as I responded, Got it covered.

I waited, seeing what he would say next. The three dots pulsed and then disappeared, pulsed and then disappeared again. It indicated to me—whether it was true or not—that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. But when his words came through, they left a smile on my face all day. Can’t wait to see you when I get back.

Same, I replied. And then because it felt right, I put a heart emoji.

Reading back through that text exchange, I have to admit I never thought this relationship with Foster would turn into anything. I figured we’d have our date and then the fascination would be done. I certainly never thought that our dinner three nights ago would turn into something beyond a good-night kiss at the end of the evening, since we’d both been clear that’s what we wanted the night I cut my finger.

The dinner itself was perfection. I’ve never conversed with someone who is so interested in every facet of my life, except maybe my parents. The guys I’ve dated always wanted to hear themselves talk or brag about their accomplishments. Foster was the exact opposite. He peppered me with thoughtful questions, wanted to know everything about my family, my dreams, hell… my entire existence.

I got my crack at him too. Foster told me all about his parents and his sister, growing up in Vancouver. He told me how he left home at age fifteen to join the major juniors and eventually how he got drafted into the league at eighteen. I was amazed at how grounded he is given the trajectory of his career.

We talked about his marriage and divorce. I’m still curious about why his marriage deteriorated but we didn’t get into those details. Instead, we focused mostly on his daughter.

Foster was circumspect as he explained how it affected him. “I stayed far longer than I should have because of Bowie Jane. I just didn’t want to be away from her. It’s something I’ve struggled with for the past year and a half and I even considered leaving the league so I could move back to San Francisco and have more time with her.”



<<<<485866676869707888>98

Advertisement