Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“All done.” Roman pushes the screen door open and is about to let it slam behind him when he walks out.
I fly forward and catch it before it startles the whole house awake. Summer’s hand is over her chest like she’s trying to keep her heart from leaping out of her chest. “All good,” I say, almost grinning as much as I do when I score a goal. Nothing touches that high. Other than holding my son for the first time, but that’s a matter of the heart.
“Thank goodness. That would not have been good.” She lowers her hand and comes closer, not enough to touch but to stand together as if we’re suddenly a united front.
I look at Roman. “We’re going to stay here tonight.” The joy in his smile is a good sign. He likes Summer. He’s not the only one.
“Do we get to sleep in Summer’s room?”
My eyes go wide and dart to Summer as I chuckle under my breath. “That would be fun.” She seems unfazed until a laugh escapes. Indifference isn’t something she can pull off. Scooting him inside, I whisper, “We’re going to share a room downstairs tonight.”
Toeing the floor, he huffs. “Oh, man.”
“Are you already sick of me, kid?”
“No, but Summer has a tire swing.”
She shrugs. “It’s true. That automatically gives me bonus fun points.”
Ruffling his hair, I say, “Well, I can’t compete with that, but I can promise that swing will be out there in the morning. But right now, we need sleep.”
Summer leads us to a room off the entry and opens the door. We all walk into the bright white room with yellow trim and curtains featuring suns. Colorful pillows cover the top half of the bed and catch Roman when he dives in. He giggles as they fall on top of him. I pull his shoes off and then return to Summer’s side. “I have a feeling I’m not getting him out of there tonight.”
“Do you want me to make a pallet for you?” She nudges me with her elbow. “Happy to.”
I angle my mouth closer to her ear, and whisper, “I’m still thinking about how fun it would be in your room.”
“That’s not happening.”
Watching Roman get off the bed only to jump back on it again, I laugh. “Never say never.”
Leveling me with a look that wobbles between amused and believing she can resist me, she replies, “It’s never happening, Sutton.”
I take my shirt off and toss it on a puffy chair in the corner. Why can I imagine her curled up in it reading? It would fit her just right.
“What are you doing?” she asks with her eyes glued to me when I walk to the side of the bed.
“Getting ready so you can tuck me in.”
“I want to be tucked in,” Roman says, freeing himself from the pillows, some of which go flying off the bed.
“I think your dad can tuck both of you in.”
“Boo.” Roman gives her two thumbs down. This kid is harsh.
She tilts her head, shooting me a dirty look, and then smiles when she comes to his side of the bed. “Fine. Tuck your legs under the covers.” He does so lightning fast with a smile on his face. Who is this guy? The little charmer. She tugs the covers to his shoulders and then leans over him with her own smile in place to whisper, “Sweet dreams.”
Turning around, she heads for the door. “See you in the morning.”
“What about me?” I ask, lying on top of the covers with my hands behind my head, ready to be tucked in.
She stops, pausing before she finally looks back.
Roman says, “Daddy needs tucking in, too.”
I owe him a snow cone for doing me the favor. “Thanks, buddy.”
Summer’s hands anchor on her hips as she stares at me with a wild debate in her eyes. She gives in and comes to my side of the bed. “Legs under the covers.”
I scramble to tuck them under. She tugs the blanket to my chest, and says, “Good night.”
Catching her arm before she leaves, I keep her close, and whisper, “Sweet dreams, Summer.”
There’s a spark in her eyes that tells me everything I need to know. She wants me. She just doesn’t know what to think about me or what to do with me. I’m happy not to be shoved in some dumb jock box, called a millionaire playboy, or judged by my actions on the ice rather than who I am on solid ground. She probably hasn’t ever met a celebrity before. Look where she lives—in the middle of nowhere. She’s kind because of who she is, not because she feels obligated to impress the famous guy.
She taps me on the nose. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.” I roll my head to the side to watch that ass as she walks out and shuts the door behind her. She gives good fucking exit.