Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Yeah, it does look good,” she says in a soft voice, like she’s wondering if she’s allowed to be happy again, or if she’s going to be forced to apologize for the way she just acted.
I choose to let it go.
In my opinion, it’s not that easy being a kid. Being told what to do all the time, following directions, sitting still, minding your manners—it all gets to be too much sometimes. If Harper can’t express her feelings here, at home where she feels safe, where can she?
“Want me to start from the beginning?” I ask, no hint of judgment in my tone.
She nods, grabs her stuffed unicorn, and cuddles up beside me. I read her that book and one more Pinkalicious story after I’m done. Then I stand up and make sure she has everything she needs to go to bed.
“Lamp off?”
“Yes please. My dad leaves the closet light on though. Yeah, like that. Then he turns on my white noise machine and gives me a hug.”
I do just as she asks, squeezing her so tight she giggles.
“Your hair smells good,” she tells me before letting go.
“It’s my shampoo.”
“I like it.”
“Maybe you can use it the next time you wash your hair. Oh, you know what I just realized? I forgot to give you your birthday present.”
Harper squirms with excitement. “Really?”
“Yes, I’ll give it to you first thing in the morning with breakfast. That’ll give you something to look forward to.” I lean back, assessing my handiwork. “All right, are you good?”
She nods, the only things visible above her pink blanket are her hands and her face. Her soft brown hair fans out sweetly across her pillow.
“Ready to get my kisses at the door?” I ask her.
“What?” Her little nose wrinkles in confusion.
I smile. “I’ll show you what I’m talking about. It’s what my mom did for me growing up. She’d tuck me in just like I did for you. Then she’d walk to the door and blow me three kisses, like this.” Once I’m on the threshold, I do just that. “Now you catch them and pat them on your cheek.”
“Got ’em!” Harper says, following my directions.
“Now you blow me three kisses and I’ll catch them too. Kisses are really fast sometimes, though, so I’ll have to be quick about it.”
Harper giddily blows me three kisses, and then she sits up a little and anxiously asks, “Did you get them!?”
I reach out fast and grab for the air out in front of me before clamping my hand shut. “Phew, got them.” I pat her kisses to my cheek, and she beams. Then I reach for the door handle. “Want me to send your dad in?”
She lies back down and shakes her head on her pillow, already burrowing deeper beneath her blanket. “No, you gave me enough kisses. Can you just tell him I love him and I’ll give him a hug and kiss in the morning? Just like that, okay? ‘I love him and I’ll give him a hug and kiss in the morning.’”
“Got it,” I say, sounding deeply serious about fulfilling my important task. “Good night, Harper. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Chloe!”
I close her door quietly and turn to find Luke down the hall with a glass of wine in his hand. He was listening to our exchange, and I don’t know why that makes me feel suddenly exposed. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me now, not like I’m his employee. Not even close. His eyes have the power to eviscerate me, and a shiver of fear—or is it anticipation—racks through me as I drop my gaze and start walking toward him.
“For me?” I ask, pointing to the wine.
He passes it over, his fingers brushing mine. I pretend the ensuing sparks don’t exist before I dig deep for the courage to look up at him again. The hallway is dark compared to the kitchen. Shadows conceal parts of his face, but they do nothing to dull his rugged handsomeness.
“Apparently I’ll get my hug and kiss in the morning,” he says, the edge of his lips rising into a smile. His voice is hushed, slightly husky—he’s aware we’ll be easily heard through Harper’s door if he’s not quiet.
“She was very clear about that,” I tease.
He points over my shoulder. “That was cute, what you did with her at the door.”
I fidget and shake my head. “I can’t take credit. My mom came up with it.”
He nods, mulling over my words, staring down at me all the while.
I bring the wine glass to my lips and gulp a greedy sip. It’s really good, some kind of red blend I haven’t tried before. “Guess I should go clean up in the kitchen.”
“I already took care of it.” He tilts his head back down the hallway. “Want to come help me sign that stuff?”