Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I rubbed at my sternum as my heart thundered in my chest.
I wanted to crawl in bed beside them and sandwich Rhett in between us. Maybe I’d fall asleep and wake up with his arm flung over my belly. Maybe she would wake up and smile at me over his head with a secret look of pride at this little person who was curled up between us.
I quietly gasped for air as I stepped back out and closed the bedroom door. Fucking hell, I could see us as a family so clearly. The perfection of it.
And then reality hit me like a hammer.
She’d chosen something different. We could’ve been a family three years ago, two years ago, last year. She’d lived a completely separate life, keeping the knowledge of our son to herself for almost three years. The family unit I’d been imagining was a fantasy. It was bullshit.
At some point, maybe Rhett would sleep next to me, kicking me in the side and hogging the bed, but Emilia wouldn’t be there snoring next to him. That wasn’t in the cards, and I needed to deal with that shit and move on.
I straightened up and squared my shoulders.
I needed to focus on what was important—getting to know my son—and I was going to start by taking him and his mother to breakfast. After that, I’d see where the day took us. Maybe he liked the park, or he’d think it was cool to skip rocks at the river. I was a fucking pro at skipping rocks. Maybe I could impress him that way. Show him how it was done.
Did he have a bike? Maybe we could pick one up for him. I’d seen kids his age riding around the club on little bikes without pedals. Get him riding on two wheels early, like I did. Maybe he’d be into that.
My mind raced through different ideas of how I’d get my kid to like me as I got dressed and ready for the day. That was what I would focus on from that point forward.
Chapter 5
Emilia
“Mama,” Rhett whispered, his morning breath making me wrinkle my nose in disgust. “Mama, awake?”
“I’m awake now,” I whispered back, opening my eyes.
“I’m hungry.” His face was about two inches from mine.
“You’re always hungry,” I teased, brushing my hair out of my face. “Did you sleep good?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” I said, pulling him down next to me in bed. “You sure you don’t want to sleep some more?”
“No. Hungry.”
“Oh, right,” I mumbled, looking around the room. At least he’d let me sleep until the sun was up. The bedroom looked different in the light of day. The colors were warmer and even more welcoming than they’d been the night before. Whoever picked them out had good taste.
“Lunch?” Rhett asked, pulling away so he could slide off the bed.
“Breakfast, baby. Lunch is in the afternoon,” I reminded him with a sigh. I would have liked putting off seeing Mick again for at least a little while longer after that kiss the night before, but I knew Rhett wouldn’t let me stall. If I didn’t get up and start getting ready for the day, he would quickly melt down. The word hangry could’ve been invented with my kid in mind.
The fact that he didn’t once ask where we were made a little starburst of shame flare in my chest. We’d woken up in so many different places lately that he wasn’t concerned by one more.
After getting us dressed and a quick trip to the gorgeous bathroom upstairs, Rhett and I ventured down to the kitchen. Mick was seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?” he asked, his eyes on Rhett.
“Great,” I replied, jerking to a stop so I wouldn’t trip when Rhett paused in front of me. “That bed is really comfortable.”
“Kinda pointless to buy one that isn’t,” Mick replied with a shrug. “There’s coffee on the counter if you want some. You guys hungry?”
I looked down at the top of my son’s head, waiting for him to answer. The entire reason we’d gotten out of bed was because he was hungry—but Rhett was silent. The moment grew awkward as Rhett and I both stood there silently.
“Rhett’s starving,” I said, ruffling the top of his head as I moved around him to toss his pull-up in the trash. “But I could get away with just coffee.”
“You wanna go get some pancakes, Rhett?” Mick asked casually. “There’s a restaurant a few minutes away that makes killer pancakes.”
“Like pancakes,” Rhett replied tentatively as I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Syrup?”
“Absolutely.”
I turned around and leaned against the counter, watching their interaction. Rhett had moved a few steps closer and was standing with one sock-covered foot on top of the other.
“Mama too?” Rhett asked, glancing at me.