Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Rhonda and I did not get along,” I say. “Like, at all. By kindergarten, I was doing okay living with my dad, but when Rhonda moved in, I started missing my mother like crazy again. It was really bad.” I exhale a soft laugh. “Which is ironic, considering the reason my dad married her was to give me a ‘mother figure.’ He told me later that he never wanted a live-in relationship with her or anyone else. He loves his privacy too much.”
“You think he was just scared to be a single dad?” Dean asks.
“Maybe, but I also think he regretted marrying her pretty quickly. While they were together, he played gigs with his cover band almost every night. As soon as they divorced, he went right back to being a homebody.” I glance Dean’s way as he leans against the railing beside me. “But for three whole years, Rhonda and I spent way too much time alone together for either of our tastes, and she made sure I knew how unhappy she was about it. How unhappy she was with me, the stepdaughter she never wanted, but couldn’t afford to send to boarding school.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I shrug. “It’s fine.” I shake my head before stretching my increasingly tight neck to one side. “I mean, no, it’s not fine. And it’s definitely part of the reason I’m hesitant to think about something long-term with a man who has children. I never want to make a kid feel as uncomfortable in their own home as I did. I don’t want to feel that way, either. Home should be a place where you feel peaceful and accepted, not…on your guard. You know?”
His brow furrows as he nods. “I get it. A safe place where you can relax and be yourself is really important for kids. And grown-ups.”
“It is.” I nod for a beat, searching his face as I debate the wisdom of what I’m about to say. But finally, I can’t hold it back. “I never imagined I could feel at home that way with someone else’s children. But then I met Ava and Bella, and…”
His expression softens, hope and affection mixing in his gaze. “And you realized that they’re the most adorable, perfect, funny, fantastic kids on the planet, and you fell head over heels for them, and want to be best friends with them forever.”
I laugh, shocked to find tears suddenly stinging the backs of my eyes. “Yeah, pretty much.” I nod, fighting to swallow as I swipe at the corners of my eyeliner. “Shit, you’re going to make me cry.”
He gathers me back into his arms. “Don’t cry. You can be best friends with them forever, no matter what. I promise. No matter what happens with us, I will always facilitate your relationship with the girls. As much or as little as you want and are able to see them. And I’ll make sure they know how lucky they are to have the love of an incredible woman like you.”
My throat spasms, locking up completely for a moment as fighting a case of the sobs becomes my full-time job.
But I refuse to leave this party with eyeliner all over my face.
I will not cause a scene or make a mess. I will breathe my way through this tangle of big feelings and find my way to the words that need to be said.
When I’m finally able to draw a breath without tearing up, I say in a rough voice, “I do love them. And I would appreciate that so much. They are so special to me already. The thought of losing them makes me sad.”
“Don’t be sad, beautiful.” He brushes gentle fingers down my face before cupping my jaw in his hand. “And don’t stress about making any big decisions right now. I think we should just take it day by day. We’ll have fun and make memories and enjoy the time we get to spend with each other and the girls and…see how things go. And if you decide down the line that this isn’t what you want or need, we’ll go our separate ways with kindness and respect. No matter what, I know I’ll be grateful for every day I get to spend with you. Even if those days don’t stretch on for as long as I’d like.”
“And if you get sick of me, I’ll understand, too. I know I’m still kind of young and stupid,” I say, fighting big emotions again as he gazes down at me with what looks a whole lot like love.
Maybe it’s friend love.
Or grateful love for the way I’ve helped his kids.
Or maybe it’s something more, something as big and beautiful as the feeling that floods my chest as he whispers, “You’re the farthest thing from stupid. You’re fucking perfect and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”