Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
His hair was a dark brown with a few strands of gray. She placed him in his mid to late thirties, much older than she was, and she would not go down that road again. Too many things about this man reminded her of her professor ex, and her humiliating past. Something she didn’t need to worry about since once they walked out that door, she’d never see Noah Powers and his adorable twins again. The thought made her sad.
“Girls, I need to get back to Hazel and tell her I found you. Say goodbye,” he said, nodding at her and Brooke.
Dakota and Dylan pouted at the mention of their nanny and she hoped Noah fired the woman for letting the twins run wild in Manhattan.
“Bye!” Dylan and Dakota yelled as they looked back at her.
Fallon waved and they smiled before they strode out, the door closing behind them.
* * *
Noah sat at the kitchen table with his girls who ate their spaghetti and meatballs in silence. They knew better than to speak when he was as upset as they’d made him. He’d never been as afraid in his life as when he’d received the panicked call from Hazel that his kids were missing. Hazel, who had quit via text, something he’d discovered when he’d walked out of the gallery and checked his cell.
Thank God he’d found his kids. He should have bought them phones like they’d been asking for, he thought, watching them slurp the pasta strands. Of course, doing it now would be rewarding their little stunt today, but their safety came first. As much as he wanted to punish them, he’d already done some serious reprimanding, Dakota had solemnly stated statistics that backed up his concerns, and they’d apologized.
At least he knew for sure now they’d memorized his cell number, which was a plus. If he hadn’t caught sight of them in the gallery window, he’d have eventually seen the call from the young woman who worked there. Fallon, who somehow reminded the girls of their mother, enough to draw them into the shop. He could see the physical resemblance from behind but she looked nothing like Charlie.
Something about Fallon Sterling had stopped him in his tracks. Though he’d found the kids, he’d still been worked up and angry but once he was able to focus, he’d been struck by her beauty. Entranced, even. He’d wanted her immediately and for a man who’d kept his social life to the bare minimum since the girls were born, that was saying something.
“Daddy, did you like the paintings we saw today?” Dylan asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to really look at them.” He’d been too busy memorizing Fallon’s cute nose and the freckles on her cheeks. But at a glance, the work had been fun and attractive, not that he’d tell that to his troublemakers.
Dakota was his little fact spewer and Dylan was the more pragmatic twin. She’d feel him out and guide him in the direction she wanted him to go. In this case, buying a painting they hadn’t even priced. He had a hunch her desire for art involved seeing Fallon again. She’d made as much of an impression on his girls as she had on him. Very different impressions for very different reasons.
Noah had taken one look at her pouty lips and wanted a taste. He’d caught sight of that crinkly flowing skirt and all he could think about was lifting it up, sliding her panties aside, and thrusting his cock inside her. Which had his dick reacting, something that never happened with his kids around. That in itself told him Fallon was dangerous.
“I looked up modern pop art, Daddy, and it includes imagery from popular culture.” Dakota put her spoon down. “I’m finished.”
He nodded. “Do you even know what popular culture is?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Duh. It’s what the modern person finds interesting. Like the Taylor Swift effect. Or those soup labels by the man Fallon told us about. Andy umm…”
“Warhol.” So Dakota had done the research. “Okay. The paintings were impressive.” He gave in because they’d keep going if he didn’t. “But I’m sure they’re too expensive.”
Noah came from family money that ensured he never had to work but it was important to him to be independent and self-sufficient, and to teach his girls the same values.
Dylan curled a leg beneath her on the chair. “But we could go back and find out the cost.”
And there it was. They wanted to see Fallon again.
He couldn’t, and not just because of the hazardous attraction he felt for her. She’d talked about her art as a passion, something she felt compelled to follow, her words reminding him of Charlie’s when it came to her archaeology. She found her career a passion worth pursuing no matter the cost or collateral damage and Fallon struck him as much the same.