Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
She nods in acknowledgement and looks back at their adorable, chipmunk cheeked daughter. “It’s okay, right, bumble bee. We know daddy loves us, don’t we?”
“I do,” my brother says before planting a kiss on her cheek and answering his phone. “This is Collins. Talk to me.”
Watching Noah exit the room in a hushed tone stirs an ancient well-known unease.
And it’s times like this that remind me men like him are too fucking greedy for their own good.
I casually lean back in my cushioned chair and comment, “That’s new. Clio doesn’t usually call this late.”
“Oh, she calls all the time,” Shelly warmly clarifies as she rises to her feet. “And with him hoping to make partner in the foreseeable future, it is only getting worse.” She casually navigates around the long rectangular table to my side. “His job is demanding. It always has been. I knew that when I married him. All I can do is hope that when he makes partner, which he will, that things slow down a bit.” Her dainty hand reaches across the table for my plate. “All done?”
“Yeah,” I answer in the kindest tone I can muster up, silently seething over the idea of my brother fucking up a good thing. “Thanks again for making dinner, Shelly.”
“You may call me Shel,” her insistence is given on a sweet smile. “We are family, Ryder.”
Family that I’m gonna go balls to the wall to protect.
Even if it means punching my big brother in his fucking face to help him get his shit together.
“It is quite alright for you to address me like we are.”
My niece begins making a giggling sound as if she completely understands what her mother is saying.
“Oh, you like that?” I immediately tease, wiggling a finger near her nose. “You like when mommy fusses at me?”
She laughs again and reaches her dirty fingers to grab mine.
“You want Uncle Ryder to pick you up?”
The motion in her hands increases at the same instant her little feet kick unhappily.
“You want me to reward you for bad behavior?” My playful comments continue as my hands move to lift her out of her seat. “You want me to reward you for picking the side against me?”
Shelby gurgles and giggles and gurgles some more.
“Do you mind cleaning her face and hands while I start the dishes?”
“Not at all.” I answer alongside adjusting her in my arms. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, bumble bee. Make your face beautiful like your mommy’s again.”
We make our way to the kitchen where Shelly casually points to the space closest to their refrigerator. “I moved the wet wipes to that cabinet to better accommodate my latest food endeavor.”
“Which is?”
“Making my own baby food.”
Eh, her regular food is bland enough. Shouldn’t be that hard.
“How’s that goin’?”
“Not as much fun as baking cookies and binging The Office, but I do not hate it.”
I flash her a small smile while grabbing the tub from the counter.
“We did not get to touch on it at dinner due to our binging discussion, which drove Noah absolutely mad.” Her smirking is accompanied by the commencing of the dishes. “How is your new living situation treating you? It’s been a couple weeks now. Are you comfortable there? Do you like your roommate? Should I have Dusana do an extra cleaning of your old room and bathroom?”
“Nah,” my answer is given about the same time my niece begins to squirm in displeasure over the mere sight of the box. “I really like it. McCoy’s a good dude. Easy to live with. Doesn’t bitch about much.”
“And do you still like working at Roscoe’s?”
“Yeah.” The wet wipe comes into my possession and Shelby huffs loudly. “Long hours. Sometimes really long days. But overtime is handy as fuck when you’ve got bills to pay and keeping my hands busy helps keep my ass out of trouble.”
Shelby immediately pushes my fingers away in tandem with dodging the damp object.
“Do you and McCoy hang out often?” Her rinsing of the dishes commences. “Perhaps go see the Hellcats play or simply binge something on the tele together like Black Sails?”
Hanging out isn’t something I do.
I’ve been a recluse for so long learning to be social reminds me of learning a foreign language in school except it doesn’t come with a textbook or fucking flash cards.
Thank fuck most dudes around the shop are outgoing and get most conversations rolling because otherwise I probably wouldn’t say shit for ten hours of the day.
We don’t chill outside of work though.
They wanna go grab wings and beers and blondes.
I wanna take a shit, take a shower, and stare at the T.V. until I figure out how it is Michael Scott doesn’t get fucking fired every episode.
“No,” my mumbled response is followed by me attempting to wipe Shelby’s face a second time, “he um…spends most of his time with his girl.”