Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Without thinking, I grab a leg, pull it into my lap, and start massaging. “You sat for too long in the same position, huh?” I ask, my hands kneading her calf. “Give me the other one.”
“You don’t have to,” she protests, but it’s weak at best.
“Eden. Give me your damn leg,” I say, and she complies, placing her other leg across my thighs. “You might as well lean back and relax,” I tell her as I place a hand on each calf and massage.
“You’re good at that,” she muses.
“I’m a professional athlete. I’ve had my fair share of cramps and massages to fix them.”
“Right.” She nods.
“You got your phone on you?” I ask, my hands still working their magic.
“Yeah.” She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls it out.
“Send me your address before you forget.”
“Bossy,” she mutters, but she swipes at her phone screen, and I hear my phone alert me to her message. “Done.”
“Thank you. Better?” I ask, nodding toward her legs. Her calves are toned, and it’s not lost on me that this is the most intimacy I’ve let myself have in far longer than I care to admit.
“So much better. You know if this football thing ever gets old, you could pick up massage therapy,” she teases.
“These hands are only for special clients.” I wiggle my fingers on both hands, making her laugh.
“Well, in that case, I’m honored. Thank you, Mr. Vaughn,” she replies sweetly.“You’re welcome, Miss Miller.”
She stands, goes to slip back into her shoes, and loses her balance. I see it happen, so I reach out and grip her hips, stopping her from falling. “Careful,” I whisper, and ignore how well my hands seem to fit her body.
“Thanks for the assist.”
“That’s hockey.”
“What term would I use in football?”
“There’s not a term in football to fit this situation.”
“You know hockey?”
I shrug. “I know sports.”
“Well, thank you for saving me from falling.” Her voice is softer this time.
“Anytime, Eden.” Her name rolls off my tongue with practiced ease when it’s only been a few weeks of knowing her. I stand and follow her to the door. “Tomorrow at nine,” I remind her, as I stand and follow her to the door.
She smiles up at me. Her big blue eyes sparkle. She’s excited to go back to the children’s home, and I’m pretty sure some of that smile is because she’s going with me. “I’ll be ready.” She slips out of her shoes. “I should have just kept them off.” She laughs as she changes into her outdoor-only shoes. “I wasn’t thinking,” she says, grabbing the inside-only shoes and shoving them into her bag. “Bye again.” She chuckles and waves as I open the door for her. I don’t close it until I see that she’s in her car and backing out of my driveway.
“Not so fast, little man,” I bend down and scoop Camden into my arms. He giggles as I tickle his belly. “Where are you headed?” I ask him. He was obviously in hot pursuit of something, and since he’s a toddler and raised with misfit uncles like me, I’m guessing it was mischief.
He points behind me. “Cake.”
I was right. “It’s not time for cake yet,” I tell him. He juts out his bottom lip, and I laugh. This kid has all our numbers, but not today. Today, his parents, Baker and Sloane, got married at their house, and the ceremony ended just ten minutes ago. This is the one time I can’t spoil the little guy and give him what he wants.
“Unca Fosser, cake,” he says sweetly, placing his hands on my cheeks.
Damn, this kid is killing me. He knows what he’s doing. He’s not even three yet, and he has this cute little manipulation skit of his down to a science.
“Is this one giving you trouble?” Rowan laughs, appearing at my side. “I thought you might need some help.”
“Possibly. He’s hard to say no to,” I admit.
Rowan nods because she knows we’re all suckers for the kids in the family—hell, the women, too. Camden, however, was the firstborn in our little group. He got all our attention until Coral and Alexander were born. Now, he has to share.
“You’re telling me.” She chuckles as she reaches out to brush Camden’s hair out of his eyes. “Want me to take him?” she offers, because that’s what we do. We all look after each other, which includes wives and kids, and in this case, friends and kids.
“Nah, I got him. You know, you’re going to have your hands full when you have a little one,” I tell her, smiling, thinking about Landry as a dad. “Landry is going to be a big softie. You’re going to have to be the one who puts your foot down.”
“Don’t I know it.” Rowan smiles wistfully. “It’s exciting, though.” She lifts her hand to rub it gently down Camden’s back, and he smiles at her. “I can’t wait for our turn,” she muses. “You’re good with him.” She nods toward Camden, who’s resting his head on my shoulder. “You’ll be a great dad, Foster.”