Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Could I take a few tea bags with me to try?”
“You having trouble falling asleep, dear?”
Heat creeps up my neck and I focus on sipping the tea, pretending I’m not at all blushing, especially not over my stepdad. “Something like that,” I say instead. “New house. New sounds.”
“I can’t say I’m pleased with the abrupt news,” Carol says with a wrinkled frown. “Seems out of character for your mother. How are you really doing with it all? Jin says Penny is smitten with Addison.”
Everyone is smitten with Addison. She’s sweet and cute and fun. It’s hard to be frustrated by the situation when I’ve already grown attached to these people.
Which is why kissing Owen is a terrible thing to do…
“I like them,” I say honestly, meeting Carol’s gaze. “It’s nice to have people around, you know?”
She gives me a small smile. Something akin to pity ripples from her. It makes me feel all the more pathetic. My best friends are a two-year-old and her babysitter. I’m pathetic.
“I should go,” I blurt out, hating the wobble in my voice. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Any time, sweetheart.”
The house is quiet when I enter with Penny. It’s strange without all the chaos Owen’s kids typically bring. Mom keeps to herself, but there’s always an air of something when she’s around. Maybe it’s just that…frigid air.
“Hello, girls,” Owen says as he descends the stairs, looking more casual than usual in a pair of sweats and hoodie. “What are we in the mood to eat?”
I’m grateful he’s not acting weird now that we’re alone. It would make for a long evening if he were. After voicing that I want Chinese, I take Penny upstairs to give her a bath. Once she’s clean and dressed in her jammies, I make my way back downstairs. The food has arrived and Owen is already unboxing it all. It smells divine. I get my sister into her high chair and then set to dishing out foods I know she’ll eat. Owen puts to-go containers in the middle of the table for us to sample from.
“How’s school going?” he asks after we’re seated. “What are you majoring in?”
Penny offers me a handful of rice and I smile at her. “No thank you.”
She grunts and then stuffs the mess into her mouth. Owen chuckles.
“Forgot how messy toddlers are,” he says wistfully. “It’s nice having her around.”
My heart warms toward him even more. I may not fully understand why he’s in on this charade with Mom, but his feelings toward me and Penny are genuine. He likes having us here. It’s nice to be wanted and welcome.
“Elementary education,” I say, answering his earlier question. “Teaching could be fun.” I deflate a bit. “Mom says it’s a thankless job with poor pay.”
Owen’s eyebrows pinch together. “There are a lot of jobs out there like that. Sometimes it’s not about the pay. It’s about the calling.”
“And your job?” I probe, arching a brow.
“For me,” he says with an impish grin, “it’s a little of both.”
We continue to chat about my education and future. He actually listens without judgment. Both my parents are doctors, so anything less than that is taking the easy way out in their eyes. But I don’t want to be a doctor. I’ve seen the toll it takes on their lives. I actually want a family and free time.
“We dulled Penny to sleep,” Owen says when he glances over at her. “What a cutie.”
My baby sister is completely passed out, rice stuck to her pudgy cheeks. I smirk as I grab a wet paper towel to clean her off. She fusses a bit when I pull her out of her chair.
“I’ll get this cleared away while you put her to bed,” Owen murmurs. “Take your time. I know bedtime routine is important to you.”
A flash of pain cuts through my chest. I hug Penny to me, hissing her soft hair. How can a man who barely knows me know me more than my own mother? He’s absolutely right. I like making sure Penny is tucked in properly. If she’s awake and I want her to sleep, we have a whole routine that includes reading two short books and saying “goodnight” to every single one of her stuffies.
Tonight, she’s already conked out, so putting her to bed is a quick affair. I give her one last kiss before slipping out of her room. After changing into a thin pair of cozy pajama pants, I head back downstairs. Owen has already cleaned up our mess and is sprawled out on the sofa, legs kicked out on the coffee table, and pointing a remote at the television.
There’s literally anywhere else I could sit, but I boldly choose the place next to him on the couch. Since he’s heavier than me, I sort of sink against him. If he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t let on. I try not to touch him with my hands, but our thighs definitely are pressed together. Heat burns hot through the material of my pants.