Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Okay, good,” Kola said, giving his seal of approval, watching the man tie off the two stiches. Sam’s back was covered in betadine, which must have triggered the next question. “When can he shower and get the blood and the brown stuff off?”
“In forty-eight hours.”
Sam scoffed, and I knew there was no way he wasn’t showering in the morning. “I’ll put a waterproof bandage over it, but there’s no way I’m waiting that long.”
Sam had been a Marine, and he’d been wounded in the line of duty, and I knew, from seeing the scars up close, that he’d taken bigger bullets, had a medic dig them out, been bandaged up and then gone back to the line. The whole shot with a .22 was simply tedious to him. He was hungry and grouchy and ready to go home. We only had a few minutes left before he started snapping.
“So this made for an exciting Valentine’s Day, huh, guys?” I said cheerfully.
“I’m hungry,” Hannah sighed, “are you hungry, Daddy?”
“Starving,” he told her. “Your father took me to a restaurant with duck liver.”
Hannah pretended to vomit; Kola just looked at me in horror.
“It was very good,” I told them both. “You all need to expand your horizons.”
“Why didn’t you guys just have Italian or go to, like, Chicago Cut and have a steak?” Kola wanted to know, so very much his father’s son.
“This is an excellent question, my boy.”
I threw up my hands in disgust.
Aaron had graciously left his car there for us, so when we were finally ready to leave the hospital, we were driven to a deli in Oak Park close to where we lived. I didn’t even say anything when Sam ordered a loaded roast beef sandwich, content to let him have whatever he wanted. The kids had their usual, Hannah her sky-high egg salad and chocolate shake, and Kola his pastrami on rye with extra spicy mustard and a vanilla shake. They also had ice water, and the waitress was surprised that neither wanted a soda.
“I didn’t raise them with it,” I told her when she looked at me.
“That’s smart. I’m trying to get rid of it at my house at the moment, and I’m having a helluva time.”
I smiled at her as she left.
“So how come you had to eat duck liver?” Hannah asked her father.
“Because I was being punished,” Sam informed her, which made her giggle.
“We’re going back to that restaurant,” I told Sam, my hand on his thigh under the table.
He grunted as he ate, and I picked at my grilled cheese.
“We are.”
“What makes you think they’ll let us back in there?”
“It’s not our fault that your ex-boss tried to kill you.”
“Yeah, but maybe they won’t see it that way.”
He had a point.
Hannah got up then to go to the bathroom, and Kola went to check out what he wanted for dessert. As soon as they were both a few feet from the table, Sam grabbed my hand and pressed it over his groin.
“What are you doing?”
He turned, and I got a look of concern. “If you can’t tell, we’ve got real problems.”
“You just got shot,” I reminded him, even as I felt his cock thicken under my fingers.
“Tiny bullet and it’s Valentine’s Day. I want the good stuff.”
I snorted. “The good stuff?”
“I wanna get laid.”
“Oh really.”
“Hey, I saved your life, you owe me, so you gotta put out.”
“Is that right.”
“Hell yeah that’s right. I expect you to be all over me as soon as we get home.”
Leaning sideways, I kissed along his gorgeous square jaw that I’d been a fan of for years. “That’s not going to be a problem.”
He sighed deeply, and I saw the smile I loved curl the corner of his mouth and make his eyes shine with heat and promise.
“Could have lost you tonight.”
“With a twenty-two?” he said like I was ridiculous. “Baby, come on.”
“Just—I need to show you how much you mean to me.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Oh yeah, that’s good. Do that. Show me. Show me all over.”
I groaned as the kids came back to the table.
“It’s due tomorrow,” Hannah was telling her brother. “That’s the best you can do?”
“Fine. How ’bout a story about a blood specialist who falls in love with a sex-addicted vampire who's a model, and you can call it Vein by Vain.”
“I don’t—oh, I see. So vein like blood and then vain like conceited.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, okay.”
“What are we talking about?” Sam asked her. “And sex-addicted what?”
“It’ll be off-page, Dad, geez.”
“Of course, how stupid of me.”
“What is this, B?” I questioned her.
“It’s just a creative writing assignment due tomorrow. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, just focus on eating and then getting home and putting Dad in bed.”
“Oh, that’s good advice,” Sam assured his daughter with a waggle of his eyebrows for me.
“Hey, if you have to write another one, you could do a sequel,” Kola told his sister.