Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I force myself to let go of her, and she slowly turns and peers up at me under long lashes. She licks her lips, and I can see a slight tremor in her hands as she fists them at her sides.
“T–Thank you.”
Unable to help myself, I reach up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It was my pleasure.” She has no idea how long it’s been since I’ve held a woman in my arms. I know that I should take a step back giving us both some much-needed space, in the cramped room, but I can’t do it. I watch as she inhales, and slowly exhales before her eyes bounce around the room, and land on the ice buckets at our feet.
“I should wash them out before we use them.” She scrunches up her nose. “This room is dusty.”
I don’t want to step away from her, but I know I have to. Stepping back, I grab the other bucket. “Watch yourself,” I tell her, nodding for her to lead the way. She has to move around me, and I should move, but where’s the fun in that? She slides by, her chest rubbing against my back, her small hands resting on my shoulders as she maneuvers around me. The heat of her palm sizzles through the cotton of my long-sleeve T-shirt.
She turns when she reaches the door. “Let me take one of those.”
“I’ve got it. If you can get the light.”
She steps out of the room, giving me space to do the same before turning off the light and closing the door. “Thank you for your help,” she says as she leads me to the kitchen.
“You’re welcome.”
Once in the kitchen, I place the buckets in the large steel industrial sink and turn on the water before pushing my sleeves up to my elbows.
“Declan, I can do that,” she says, coming to stand next to me.
“I’ve got it.”
“Fine.” She pushes up her sleeves as well. “You wash, and I’ll dry.” She’s trying to act as if she’s irritated, but the small smile that lifts her lips tells me otherwise. It could also be that playful gleam in her eye.
I lean into her so that we’re shoulder to shoulder. “Are you always this stubborn?”
“Oh, hush.” She leans into me as if she could actually knock me over while her sweet laughter surrounds us.
My cell rings in my back pocket. “Can you get that? It might be about Blakely. Back pocket, right side,” I tell her.
Since her hands are still dry, she steps back and lifts up my shirt, retrieving my phone. “It says FaceTime call from Mom.”
“Accept it. I’m sure it’s Blake.” Doing as I ask, she hits Accept, and the video call connects.
“Daddy!” Blakely cheers. “What’s you doing?”
“I’m washing a couple of ice buckets.” Kennedy turns the phone so that she can see that my hands are in sudsy water.
“How’d you show me?” Her little brow furrows, and I swear she’s smarter than the average four-year-old. Sure, she’s going on five, but my little girl doesn't miss anything.
“Do you remember Kennedy?” I ask, knowing she does.
“Is she there?” She gets her face close to the screen, where we can only see her blurry nose. “I can’t see her.”
I chuckle. “Baby girl, you need to hold the phone back.” She does as I ask. I nod, and Kennedy turns the phone toward her.
“Hi, Blakely.” She waves and smiles at the screen.
“Are you at the party too?” Blakely asks.
“I am. I’m filling in for my grandma.”
“Her leg is still hurt?”
“Yes. She’s going to need to take it easy for several weeks.”
“Are you having a sleepover?” she asks.
“No. I’ll be home later.”
“Daddy, are you having a sleepover?” she asks.
Kennedy turns the phone back toward me. “No. I’ll be home tonight missing you,” I tell her.
“Kennedy, you should have a sleepover with my daddy, so he’s not lonely. I’m staying with Mamaw and Papaw, and he’s going to miss me.”
I grin, and Kennedy chuckles softly and steps closer to me so that we’re both in the frame. “I think maybe one of your uncles might stay with him.”
She has no idea if that’s true, but it’s a good save to distract Blakely from her original question. “All my uncles are there?” she asks.
“They are.” Kennedy smiles.
Blakely gets a serious look on her face. “Kenny, my uncles are trouble.” She nods her little head.
I can’t help it. I burst out in laughter. “You’re trouble,” I tell my daughter.
“I’m not trouble, Daddy. I’m your princess.” She shakes her head as if this is information I should have already known.
“Well, princess, I need to finish washing these up so we can have ice for the parties. I love you. Be good for Mamaw and Papaw.”
“I will. Love you, Daddy. Bye, Kenny.” Blakely waves her little hand at the screen, and the call ends.