Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I did also have a reason for coming over,” he says, looking at Ariella and then looking at me.
I sit back down on my stool and wait for it. My heart starts to speed up, my palms get sweaty, and I can swear I’m going to be sick. “What?” I ask in a whisper.
“I need your help,” he says, and I bring my hand up that now holds a coffee cup. “And I was hoping that if I came, you would feel sorry for me.” Jesus, he wants me to babysit his kid, I think to myself.
“Um.” It’s my turn to stumble. “If I can help, I will.”
“Good,” he says, smiling. “I need you to work for me.”
Chapter 6
Ralph
I watch her face after I say the words as she looks at me and then the baby. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” she starts to say, looking back at Ari smiling, “but I’m not a babysitter.”
Closing my eyes, I think about how bad this is going even though I practiced my speech in the car. A speech that went out the window the minute she opened the door and I saw her. I could barely get anything out. I wanted to get in, get the bottles, beg her to take me as a client, and then get out. But what did I do? I sat down and watched her in her home as I drank a cup of coffee.
“Oh my God,” I say, opening my eyes. “God, I am such an idiot. I don’t want you to be a babysitter.” I shake my head, sitting next to her. “I practiced this in the car.”
She smiles at me, and our shoulders touch as I look over at her. “What did you practice in the car?” she asks, her voice going soft, and I have no control of myself as I slowly move toward her. She sits there, her eyes looking soft and beautiful and mesmerizing. This is crazy, I think to myself.
“Ralph.” She says my name, and I don’t know if she’s asking me a question or telling me to stop.
I’m about to say something else and maybe kiss her when the front door opens and then closes, and I hear a man’s voice. “Honey, I’m home!”
I’m shocked that I almost just kissed this woman who I met yesterday. Shocked that I even had a thought about it, I take the bottle out of Ari’s mouth. Is that her boyfriend? Is he going to think I’m putting the moves on his girlfriend? Is he going to know that I jerked off to her this morning in the shower? I’m ready to grab Ari in that circle thing and just run out of the house with her still in it.
When I got the text from Justin last night about leaving the bottles at Candace’s house, I smacked my head with the palm of my hand because . . . rookie mistake. I texted Justin and asked for her number, and he never got back to me. Then instead of waiting for him to get back with me like a normal person would do, I showed up at her house. Like a crazy stalker!
I rang the doorbell, thinking it was going to be fine and telling myself I didn’t really find her that pretty. It’s all in your head, you’ve been deprived of being around women. She’s not that pretty, I kept repeating to myself over and over again until she opened the door, and I just stood frozen with my mouth dry as she stood there with pink shorts that showed off her long legs and a matching tank top. I didn’t even let my eyes linger on the little part that showed her stomach. The only thing going through my mind was she’s hot as fuck.
I look at her now as she looks down the hall and doesn’t move when her brother comes into view with Zara next to him. “Well, this is a surprise,” Zara says when she spots me and then turns to the couch when she hears her daughter call her name.
I watch as Zoey gets off the couch and runs over to her yelling, “Mama! Mama!” She bends down and catches her daughter in her arms and kisses her, and my heart suddenly hurts when I look back at Ari who watches, not knowing that she will never do that. She will never know what it’s like to have a woman’s love. I will give her all the love I have, but I wonder if it’s going to be good enough. “You’re all sticky.”
“Auntie CanCan made pancakes,” she says, playing with her hair. “I helped.”
“I can see that.” She looks past us and into the messy kitchen, and I have to say this is what a home is supposed to be.