Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
I won't ruin the surprise for her, though. I'll keep it to myself and let her figure it out so she can tell me. She loves finding ways to spring the news on me. Almost as much as she loves begging me to give her a baby when she's ready for another one. I'm not sure which of us burns hotter when she's pleading with me to breed her. Her? Me? We both live for that shit.
The song ends, and I pull Ireland into my arms to kiss her.
"No!" Olivia squeals, squirming until Ireland puts her down.
As soon as her feet touch the floor, she's off again, running to find her next big adventure. She's just like her mom, full of life and always on the move.
"Hi, rockstar," Ireland whispers, grinning at me as I seam her body to mine.
"Hi," I whisper back and then devour her lips.
"Maybe I should send you to school pickup more often if I get kisses like that when you get home," she says when I let her up for air.
"Fuck school pickup, Éire." I narrow my eyes on her. "You didn't tell me the line was eighteen years long."
"Oops." She smirks at me.
"You also didn't tell me that there are two lines."
"There are two lines?"
"Yeah. Apparently, parents with special needs kids get the shorter line. I saw it and thought I hit the jackpot. And then some cranky lady with a whistle tried to blow my eardrums to inform me that I was in the wrong line. I had to drive all the way back around the school to get in the right line," I grumble. "Fuck school pickup. It's way too fucking complicated."
"It's not complicated, Crue," she says, laughing. "You pull up, wait in line, and they bring her out to you."
"Yeah, unless you get in the wrong damn line. And then you get yelled at by a cranky lady in a reflective vest."
"She yelled at you?"
"Yes, she yelled at me. She said maybe I need to go back to school and learn how to read since I can't read the damn letters on her vest that said special needs line. So I told her maybe she needed a brighter fucking vest so we could actually see the damn letters. The whole line heard us."
Ireland presses her lips together, trying hard not to laugh.
"You might as well go ahead and laugh. Half the damn parents in line were laughing."
"I'm not laughing," she says, choking on laughter.
"Oh, really?"
"Really."
"Is that why your face is so red?"
"It's hot in here."
"You're such a liar."
She gives up trying to contain it and doubles over, wheezing with laughter. "Oh, my god, Crue. You got into an argument with the special needs traffic line lady. You can't ever go back there again."
"Yeah? Well, I told her that you're the one who sent me to that line," I lie.
"You didn't," she gasps, her laughter drying up as her eyes practically bug out of her head.
"Oh, I did."
"Crue!" She launches herself at me like a little demon, practically climbing my body. "Oh, my god. I'm going to strangle you! Now, neither of us can go back there. We're going to have to move schools!"
I catch her to me, swinging her around until she's in my arms bridal style, unable to follow through on her threats to murder me. And then I grin down at her. "I love how easily you fall for my bullshit."
"Oh, thank God." She relaxes in my arms. "I thought you were serious. Olivia loves her school. I love her school. Stop giving me angina, Crue."
"I've got something to give you, sweet girl. And it's not angina."
"Crue," she groans, rolling her eyes toward the baby. "Not in front of the baby."
"Oh, I'm not going to give it to you in front of the baby, Éire. We're going to wait until the kids are asleep." I dip my head, brushing my lips across hers. "And then I'm going to give it to you all night."
She moans, biting my bottom lip. "Fine. But you get to do drop-off in the morning, then. I have an interview for the blog."
"Yeah? With who?"
"A drummer named Memphis Hughes."
Oh, fuck my life. It's been five years, and there are still far too damn many men around my wife.
"Yeah, absolutely not," I say. "I'll be going to that bullshit with you."
She sighs, rolling her eyes. "I know. I told him we'd be there at ten."
"Good girl." I grin at her.
"You're lucky I love you."
"I know." I brush my lips across her forehead. "Real damn lucky, Éire."