Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“At least you didn’t have to share your toys, huh? My sister hated sharing with me.”
A contemplative look filled his face. “I don’t mind sharing.”
Holy monkeyballs.
Need filled her and she licked her lips. A small smirk crossed his lips as though he knew how his words affected her.
Something crackled between them. Hot and electric.
Was it wrong to feel this way? She knew that around here people accepted that to be involved with more than one man was not only possible but natural. But those men usually formed a harem . . . from what she knew they wanted to share.
But what about Jameson? She remembered Ian telling her that he and Jack would share a woman. And hopefully Jameson too. But that he didn’t think he wanted that anymore.
“You need to get some sleep, Shortcake,” Jameson said gently, breaking the spell that had developed between them.
“Oh, right.” She glanced over at Uncle Willy. “He really will be all right, won’t he?”
“He’s doing a lot better,” Jameson said.
That didn’t really answer her question. She took in a deep breath.
“You care about him a great deal,” Jameson said.
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. “I love him. He’s one of my favorite people in the world.” She blinked rapidly, trying to keep her tears at bay.
“We’re taking excellent care of him.”
“I k-know.” Her voice wobbled and she sucked in another breath. She stood. She needed a moment. No way was she breaking down in front of Jameson.
“Come here,” he said quietly as she tried to walk past him to the bathroom.
She shook her head. “I just . . . I just need a minute.”
“Sweetheart. Here.”
Unable to help herself, she glanced up at him and it was like something was pulling her toward him. She stepped closer to where he sat on a chair in the corner. As soon as she was close enough, he drew her down onto his lap.
Any pretense of fighting this pull disappeared and she sunk into him, tears slipping from her eyes.
“That’s it, let it all out. It’s not good to keep it in.”
She wanted to ask him if he ever let all his pain out. But she wasn’t that brave. Maybe she wasn’t a very good friend.
“Sorry.” She drew back, wiping at her cheeks.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Um, crying all over you? Falling apart?”
“You are always welcome to cry all over me,” he told her with a smile.
She snorted. “You might regret saying that.” She sniffled. Crap. she must look like a fright. “I need the bathroom.” This time, he let her go, helping her off his lap.
For some reason, she suddenly felt bereft. As though in his arms was the place she was meant to be.
Bloody hell.
He hadn’t meant to do any of that. Jameson sighed and looked over at William, who was still sleeping soundly.
What would he think if he’d woken up to Jameson cuddling his niece in the same room as him?
Not very professional. Even though he wasn’t on the clock, he was still a doctor in this hospital.
But he found it hard to hold back with Maggie. There was something about her that drew him in. That made him want to take care of her.
He could tell she was barely holding herself together. That she’d needed a safe space to let go.
Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to stay tonight. But it had been out before he could stop himself.
And while he could tell himself that he was doing it for Ian and Jack because they’d looked tired, but that wasn’t the entire truth.
He’d seen how exhausted Maggie looked, how on edge, and instinct had kicked in.
Daddy Dom instincts he’d long since thought that he’d suppressed were now screaming at him.
Care. Protect. Cherish.
He moved around, picking things up and tiding. He grabbed her boots and placed them under her bed. He noticed how worn and rough they were. And it looked like the sole was about to come loose on one of them.
None of your business.
Although surely her own uncle paid her enough to buy some new shoes?
The bathroom door opened and she stepped out, looking sleepy in a pair of pajamas. The bottoms were red and black tartan, while the top had a picture of a zebra on it.
She looked adorable. Especially as she was rubbing at her eyes.
She’s not yours.
You can’t bundle her up and demand that she sleep with you.
“Come on, sweetheart. Sleep time,” he said firmly. He drew back the sheets on the bed.
“Oh, I thought you could sleep there. I’ll just sleep on the chair.”
He stared at her for a moment. “On the chair?” Why would she want to sleep in the chair? He’d had the bed brought in for her.
“Um, yeah. Because I’m so much shorter and smaller than you. I can curl up in the chair. You take the bed. I won’t sleep much anyway.”