Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I cleared my throat, trying to speak around the boulder there. “Thank you. I love it, like always. And since you got me something so nice, I should probably give you something too.” I winked, and she was all smiles and freckles. Christ, this little girl owned my heart.
She ripped into the wrapping paper and gasped when she saw the doll inside. It was one that was made to look like her. I knelt down. “And when you’re all better, we’ll get you another one made that has your hair styled however you grow it out.” It was cut short right now, but it had been long in the beginning.
“I love her! Thank you, Hutch!”
Layla threw her too-thin arms around me, hugging me as tightly as she could. Layla lived with her single mom and her grandma. Her dad wasn’t in the picture, but her mom and grandma were great. They loved her, and there was nothing they wouldn’t do for her—taking turns sleeping there with her during the times she had to be inpatient while also working extra shifts for money. I caught her mom crying sometimes when Layla was sleeping or she didn’t know I was looking. She would trade places with her daughter in a second if she could, and I wanted to do whatever I could to ease their struggle.
“Can we play with her?” Layla asked.
My gaze shot toward Ryder again, who was watching us. “Yeah, we can play with her. But we have to go find a doll for me too.”
And that was exactly what we did. Layla and I sat on a carpet in the corner, playing babies for longer than someone would think you could play. She never got tired of it, though—feeding and changing, pretending we met up at the park while taking our daughters, who were best friends of course, to play. As our game went on, she talked a little about her life, told me she’d vomited twice the night before but had been checked out this morning and was fine.
I knew Ryder kept an eye on me while he was busy with Luke and Colton, partly because I kept staring at him too, damn it.
Still not babied out, Layla asked if we could take them for a walk around the courtyard.
“You’re not too tired?” I asked.
“Nope.” We found two baby strollers and went out.
She kept me out for only about twenty minutes, but I could see it was wearing on her. She was exhausted but trying to pretend she wasn’t, so I said, “Can we head inside? I’m too old for this.”
“You’re not too old. My mama says you’re a hottie. Old people can’t be hotties.”
I laughed. “Well, your mama is right, and you’re wrong on this one, but she might not like that you told me what she said.”
Her eyes went wide. “You won’t tell her, will you?”
“Nope. I absolutely won’t. Let’s go inside.”
We did, and the second I opened the door to the playroom, I heard the soft thrum of a guitar. I looked up to see Ryder sitting on a chair with the instrument in his lap, his long fingers dancing along the strings. He looked down while he played, his inky-black hair falling into what I knew were hazel eyes. It was longer than it had been when we were younger.
All the kids were on the floor in a circle—and Gabby had joined them too—watching Ryder, as if it was impossible to have their attention on anyone or anything except him. It had always been like that for Ryder. It was something I noticed growing up. He had that spark that drew people in, and clearly no one here was immune.
But this side of him…this side was new. Ryder hadn’t played guitar when we were kids.
“Come on, Hutch. Let’s go,” Layla said softly. She tugged on my hand, and I followed her over, sitting on the carpet with everyone else and watching Ryder play.
It was some sort of slow song, but then he said, “All right, looks like I’m putting a few of you to sleep. Time to stand up and start moving, especially the old guy in the back.”
I laughed. “See, I told you I’m old,” I said to Layla, surprised Ryder had mentioned me.
We all stood, and he changed the tune he was playing, then began singing for us to add hands and shake things about, which we all did. He had a good voice, and he went from hands to feet to things like elbows and legs, making even the older kids laugh and a smile curl my lips.
He played three different kids’ interactive songs before Gabby piped in. “I hate to ruin the fun, but it’s time to wrap things up.”
We all began to gather up the toys. When we were finished, I saw Crystal, Layla’s mom, in the doorway, so I went over to talk to her.