Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I fully intend to speak with him about it when we’re alone. I’d never bring it up in front of the boys.
He’s more prepared than I had time to be. I realize he brought two coffees to get him through the drive into Austin to catch our flight.
I wonder if I’ll have a chance to get another hour of sleep on the way, but it feels wrong since, technically, he’s paying me for today.
The boys get lost in the show playing in the headrests in front of them, their little heads bopping along to whatever it is they’re watching.
“Wish I had more time this morning,” I mutter, the scent of the coffee filling the inside of the SUV.
“I won’t apologize again for forgetting to tell you.”
“You didn’t apologize the first time,” I say, my tone even, conversational.
I glance over at him, taking satisfaction in the way his jaw clenches in annoyance.
“You don’t plan on giving me even an inch do you?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road as he pulls out of the long driveway.
“Why would I? Just because everyone else in your life always has?”
He doesn’t respond, but I guess I don’t really expect him to.
“The quicker you figure out that I’m not someone who is going to kiss your butt because you used to play hockey, the better things will be for everyone. I’m not some fangirl who’s going to beg you to sign her bra strap, Chase Woodson. I don’t care how many women throw themselves at you. To me, you’re the same old country boy who got too big for his britches.” I glare at the side of his face, annoyed that he doesn’t look over at me. “And it’s proper manners that when you make coffee that you offer some to others instead of bringing two giant mugs to drink for yourself.”
I huff like a petulant child, looking over my shoulder to make sure the boys didn’t hear my tirade. They’re still bopping along to whatever they’re watching, thankfully not paying us any mind.
“You done?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I growl, annoyed that he still feels the need to challenge me.
“That cup there is yours. I figured that since you’re so surly and angry all the time that you drink your coffee black, but if I’m wrong, let me know and I’ll make it to your specifications next time.”
I stare from him to the cup of holy water that’s been teasing my senses several times since I climbed into the vehicle, incapable of forming words.
“Thank you,” I mutter as I pull the cup from the holder. “And I do happen to like my coffee black, but only because that’s how Momma and Daddy drink it.”
His lip twitches with what I can only assume is annoyance because this is not a smiling matter, and he’d be risking his own life if he laughed at me while I’m so tired.
I tilt the cup up, savoring the rich taste that hits my tongue. It’s definitely not store brand coffee in this cup. It’s luxurious and will go a long way in bettering my mood.
“You’re going to have to add not making that noise you just made to the list of rules right along with wearing bottoms around the house.”
“What noise?” I ask, my attitude still in full effect.
He sighs. “The fact that you don’t even know makes it ten times worse.”
Chapter 11
Chase
“They aren’t the same person,” Madison says, feeling the need to remind me about my own children. “They’re not going to have the same needs at the same time always.”
I take a deep breath. It’s not entirely her fault that I’m wound so damned tight right now. I may have ignored Cole’s little comment about being in a bad mood when it comes to Emily because I didn’t want to accept that I’ve acted in such a noticeable way around my kids. I mean, honestly, who gave them the right to be so intuitive and observant anyway? Like, how can he deduct that from my behavior but not be aware when he has a booger hanging halfway out of his nose? The contradictions in these kids are astounding.
“We twins!” Cale says from the back of the rented SUV.
“My point,” I begin, risking a glance at the boys in the rearview mirror as we wait for the arm to lift, allowing us access to the parking garage. “Is that when we stop for a potty break that both of you at least try to go.”
Cole used the restroom in the airport before we got the rental. Cale, of course, claimed he didn’t need to, but then suddenly we were in the middle of an emergency five miles into our drive to the attorney’s office.
“Sorry, Daddy,” Cale says, his little voice soft and sad.
I feel like an asshole, something that is becoming a common occurrence. It doesn’t help that Madison is glaring at the side of my face, offended that his little feelings are hurt.