Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“You sure?”
“Positive. You need to lean on us.”
“It’s different this time,” he says softly. “When Blake was born, I was here alone at night when I had her, and now I have Kens, and it’s just… I fucking love her, man. More than I ever thought possible.”
“It’s a good thing she married you then,” I tease. I hear Blakely’s footsteps, so I know she’s close. I kiss my nephew on the cheek and give him back to his daddy. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Thanks, Rush.”
“Anytime. Blakey, you ready for some of Dorothy’s famous pancakes?”
“Yes!” she whisper-shouts. “I don’t want to wake up my brother,” she tells me when I give her a confused look.
This little girl. She’s so damn smart and loving. I love all of my nieces and nephews, even those still cooking, but Blakely was the only one for five years, and there will always be a special little sliver of my heart that’s only for her.
“Come here, sweetie.” Kennedy opens her arms, and Blakely rushes to her, giving her a big hug.
“Love you, Mommy.”
Not gonna lie. That gets me. Every single time I see the way that Kennedy loves Blake, the way that Declan loves Beckham, what they’ve all been through, bringing them to this point in their lives. Everyone is happy and healthy, and they have a beautiful family. It gets me all up in my feels.
It seems as though I’ve had a lot of that lately. Specifically last weekend with Crosby and watching The Notebook. I fought against it, but I still teared up at the end of the movie, just like I knew I would. That shit hits you right in the chest, and Crosby, well, I didn’t choose that particular movie, hoping I’d get to console her, but I’m not mad about how that night turned out.
Somehow, I managed to convince her to let me hold her for the rest of the night. We woke early the next morning and slipped out before Brooks, Palmer, and Remi woke up. I dropped her off at Declan’s to her car and haven’t seen or heard a word from her since. I’ve contemplated sending her a text several times, but I never follow through, and I can’t pinpoint exactly why I haven’t.
But I can’t seem to stop thinking about her. I’m forcing myself to stay away. From the little that I know about her past, she needs someone who’s all in, and right now, I’m just not sure that’s me.
I want more out of life, but is she the one? I can’t possibly know that without getting to know her better, but if I keep deleting the messages I type and she keeps turning me down at every turn, I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get the chance to find out.
“Bye, Daddy.” Blakely leans over the side of the chair and gives Declan a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, baby brother Beckham,” she whispers, kissing the top of her brother’s head. “Ready, Uncle Rush.” She bounces over to me, and I lift her into my arms. Pretty soon, she’s going to be too big for any of us to hold her like this.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” I tell my brother and his wife, and we’re out the door. Blakely chats away about school and her teacher Miss Crosby Greene as she likes to call her when she’s not at school, and how much she loves being a big sister and a big cousin. She continues on as we eat our pancakes at Dorothy’s. She’s soaking up having all of my attention, and I willingly give it to her.
She drops nuggets of information about school that I hold on to like a starving man, and I ignore my subconscious telling me that there is a reason Crosby is different and instead focus on what I’m learning about the dark-haired beauty that has my niece enamored with her.
“Oh, and Miss Greene, her favorite color is teal green. Isn’t that cool?” Blakely asks. “It matches her name, Uncle Rush.”
“So cool,” I agree, filing yet another small piece of information about the woman in my mind.
Thirty minutes later, we’re pulling into the parking lot of Willow River Elementary school. I help Blakely out of her seat, and hand in hand, we walk into the school.
“I’m a big girl, Uncle Rush. You don’t have to walk me to my class. I know where I’m going,” she says, smiling up at me.
“You are such a big girl,” I tell her. “But I want to see your classroom.” And your teacher.
“I sit by Jacob. He talks a lot, and Miss Crosby G—I mean, Miss Greene has to shush him a whole lot.”
“You need to make sure you’re minding Miss Greene,” I tell her.
“That’s what I tell Jacob too,” she fires back, and I don’t bother hiding my grin as she pulls me by the hand into her classroom.