Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Sawyer and I were talking about that the other day. We knew you’d be all over it as soon as you found out how close they were.”
I point at her. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“All right, we need to get back to work,” Royce says, doing the exact opposite as he reaches into the box and grabs himself a muffin. He takes a bite and moans his appreciation. “Maybe if I promise Sawyer fresh muffins every day, we can get one of those.” He points to Layla’s belly.
It’s no secret that we all want kids. We want it all—the wife, the kids, the dog. Hell, I’ll even take the white picket fence. None of us have an aversion to settling down. We’ve grown up watching the love that our parents share, and it’s hard not to want that. It’s just not the right time for us, and we’ve yet to meet the right woman to make it the right time. Well, at least me and my two younger brothers.
“I love the thought of our kids growing up together.” Layla smiles up at Royce.
“You need me to explain to you how it's done?” Owen quirks a brow, barely containing his laughter.
“Trust me. We’ve got the how down pat. It’s that daily pill that’s getting in our way.”
“Hey,” Sawyer says, appearing in the doorway. “Royce, your nine o’clock is here.” She’s looking at him like he hung the moon.
“Thanks, babe.” He walks to her, leans down, and kisses her lips.
I don’t have a crystal ball or anything, but I can almost guarantee that those two will be the next to announce that the Riggins clan is growing. I couldn’t be happier. I can’t wait to spoil my nieces and nephews. I have some stiff competition for the title of favorite uncle, and that’s a job title I’m going to take seriously.
“You planning on spending the night?”
I look up to find my baby brother, Marshall, standing in the doorway of my office. “Looks like I’m not the only one burning the midnight oil,” I say. Glancing at the time on my computer, I see it’s just after seven. I’ve been buried in paperwork all afternoon.
“I had a marketing plan to finalize for the San Francisco opening.”
I smile. Marshall is the chief marketing officer, and he’s damn good at it. “It’s still hard to grasp the concept that we’ve taken this company across the United States.”
“Dad paved the way,” he says.
He’s right. My father started this company with one truck and a dream. When my brother Royce took over, his dreams were even bigger. As each of us graduated from college and joined the business, we brought additional talent to the table, and I’m damn proud of what we’ve accomplished.
“That he did,” I tell him. “You want to grab some dinner?”
He grins like the mischievous little brother he is. “Mom made chicken parmesan.”
“Looks like I’m following you to Mom and Dad’s.” I laugh.
“You’d be crazy not to.”
He’s right. I would be crazy not to. Shutting down my computer, I leave the piles of work behind, grab my keys and my phone, and follow him to the elevator. “Is Conrad going to be there?” I ask Marshall as we step out of the building.
“Doubt it. He said something about taking a computer home to work on it.”
I nod. Conrad is the chief information officer at Riggins Enterprises and our tech guru. You couldn’t tell it by looking at him, not that I’m stereotyping, but Con just doesn’t look like that’s what he would be into. Kid’s a genius.
“It doesn’t matter how many times we tell him to delegate. He still won’t do it.” I shake my head.
“He loves that shit. I’m glad too. He fixed my laptop a few months ago. I hadn’t backed it up in a while. Lesson learned.”
“I’m sure he read you the riot act for that.”
“Fucking older brothers,” he mumbles, but there’s a smile tilting his lips, and there’s no heat in his tone.
“You love us, and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He smirks.
“Just think, if it were not for us, you wouldn’t have gotten away with as much as you did growing up. By the time you came around, Mom and Dad were already desensitized to pretty much everything. We paved the way for you, little brother,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder.
“There’s that,” he agrees. “I honestly don’t know how Mom and Dad are still sane after raising the five of us.”
“We weren’t that bad.”
“One or more of us were always into something. They’re saints.”
“And to think she still makes enough dinner every night in case we want to drop in.”
“We won the parent lottery.”
“True that. See ya in a bit,” I say as we part ways to go to our cars.
Pulling out of the lot, I need to go right to go to Mom and Dad’s, but instead, I turn left. I need to scope out this new bakery that I plan to check out—maybe in the morning. Those muffins were too damn good not to sample the rest. Reaching the end of the block, my eyes scan and sure enough, there’s a huge sign over the door. “Warm Delights,” I read out loud. That’s the perfect name for a bakery, and the muffins were indeed warm, telling me they were fresh, and they were definitely a delight. I like the way this place operates, and I can already tell I’m going to be a frequent customer.