Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“This is very hypocritical, you know?” I leaned back, watching as she handed Aleesa a cup with a vanilla scoop and sprinkles. “We literally just bought a book for her about eating less sugar. Plus, she had a lot of Catalina’s chocolate cake during dinner.”
I never thought that I would be the parent who was a stickler about sugar, yet here I was. But honestly it was because Aleesa literally seemed to turn into some hyperactive gremlin when she consumed too much candy or sweets. I am not even kidding. She would scream with excitement, get the zoomies, giggle hysterically, beg me to watch some random dance move that made absolutely no sense. It was cute at first but became exhausting very quickly.
“I’ll wear her out and double brush her teeth. Will that help?” Octavia brought her spoon to her mouth and licked the fudge away. I didn’t dare look away as she did it.
“Are you trying to distract me from this topic by seducing me?”
“What?” she shrilled. I smirked. “You’re crazy. I’m simply enjoying my ice cream.” She gave the spoon another lick, this time curling her tongue around the top. My dick spasmed as I saw her pink tongue glide over the curve of the plastic.
“You are something else, Octavia Klein.”
“In a good or bad way?”
“I am not sure yet.”
“I hope it’s good.” She winked. “Leesa, how’s your ice cream, angel?”
“Mmm . . . it’s yummy,” my daughter answered. Then she cheesed hard to show us all the rainbow sprinkles stuck to her teeth.
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “Good luck brushing all of that out.”
Octavia giggled.
We’d finally made it back to the hotel, and sure enough, Octavia had tuckered Aleesa out. Before our ride showed up, she’d taken Aleesa outside the ice cream parlor, thrown her over her shoulder, and zoomed back and forth along the sidewalk. Aleesa squealed and giggled until she was breathless.
People probably thought Octavia was a little crazy for it, running around with a four-year-old, making airplane noises and all. It wouldn’t have been a method I’d use to calm Aleesa, but I appreciated it.
It was interesting to watch Octavia with Aleesa. How she did things so differently from me yet produced the same result. With her around, I realized maybe I didn’t have to be so controlling and overprotective. Maybe I could learn to let some of that go . . . if I could also learn to trust that there was still good in this world. Good people like her.
Aleesa was already rubbing her eyes during the car ride, but as soon as we reached the elevator of the hotel, she threw her hands up at me and begged to be picked up. Once her cheek rested on my shoulder, I knew she was a goner.
Octavia had gotten her washed up as quickly as she could, helped her into her pajamas, then laid her in the bed. Aleesa did not even need a bedtime story. She had been so deliriously sleepy that she had not fought it.
“She’s down for the night.” Octavia walked around the corner and entered the living room. “She snores like a grown man.”
“And you are sure that you want to share a bed with her?” I laughed.
“Ah, it’ll be all right.”
“You are very good with her, you know?”
“It’s nothing.” She waved a hand, as if it were no big deal.
“No, I am serious.” I sat on one of the barstools near the kitchen counter. “All of her previous nannies would look so drained after dealing with her. They could not really keep up with her energy. But you do, and you handle it well. If anything, it is Aleesa who cannot keep up with you.”
She laughed at that last statement. “I guess it’s just in my nature. I told you I love kids. I try to see the world through their lens. Everything is so big and new and exciting to them. It’s a beautiful thing, seeing so much hope and curiosity in their eyes.”
“Yes, well, I feel like I should be paying you more for all that you do. Those meals you make are always more than I expected.”
“Javier, please.” She walked my way, stopping at the barstool right next to mine. “I don’t need more money. What you give me is fine. Plus, you provide for the meals, so technically I’m not coming out of pocket for any of it.”
“But the meals are always so nourishing and detailed. Even down to your garnishes. That must be time consuming.”
She laughed. “Look at it this way: I love cooking, and you have a nice kitchen that I love making a mess in. It’s my pleasure.” She grinned as I nodded with a crooked smile. “So what should we do now?” She swept her gaze around the penthouse.
“What do you want to do?”