Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
“He ate a couple of hours ago. He should be good for the rest of the night,” she informed me, purposely leaving out when she had last eaten.
I arched an eyebrow at her as I led her into the kitchen. “And you?” I asked.
She just shrugged at me. That was all the answer I needed. She wasn’t taking care of herself.
Damien would kick my fucking ass if he were still alive.
“I’m going to make you something to eat,” I told her. “My bedroom is over there,” I said, pointing towards the room located down the hall. “Sweats are in the second drawer; shirts are in the closet. Get a shower. Food should be done when you’re finished.”
She looked down at the little boy in her arms. “What about—"
I held my arms out to her. Chewing nervously on her bottom lip, she gently handed him over to me. I looked down at his face, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest at how much he looked like Damien. It was like looking at my cousin all over again.
The kid was the spitting fucking image of him. It was like looking down into Damien’s baby face, but with Hayley’s shade of blue eyes.
“God, he looks so much like him,” I whispered once she was in my room. “Your dad would have loved you, kid.”
I jerked awake to the sound of a baby crying—an ear-splitting wail that scared the absolute shit out of me. I jumped out of bed and rushed out of my room only to find Hayley trying to soothe the little boy, her hand smoothing over his hair as she bounced him, gently shooshing him.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she whispered, sounding extremely distressed.
I gently took him from her, holding him with one arm under his butt, my other hand on his back, holding him to my bare chest. He instantly quieted and stuck his thumb in his mouth as his eyes began to shut. Hayley stared at me in amazement.
“How did you . . .” She trailed off.
I shrugged. “Quinn just recently found out he has a kid, and he’s pretty much taking care of her full time. When she’s really fussy, he does skin-to-skin contact, usually around where his heart is so she’s soothed by the sound of his heartbeat,” I informed her.
“I could have used that information a long time ago,” Hayley tiredly admitted.
I ran my eyes over her face, taking in exactly how much weight she had lost since I had last seen her two years ago. Her face was pale, her eyes still bloodshot, and dark circles were under her eyes. “Did you sleep last night?” I asked her, already knowing she didn’t without her having to answer.
She shrugged. I sighed. “Go crash in my room,” I told her. “I’ve got him while you get some rest.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but I shot her a dark look, making her sigh as she closed her mouth. With one last worried look towards her little boy, she disappeared into my room.
I looked up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.
Damien, if you can somehow read my fucking mind, give me the strength to do the fucking right thing by you.
I had always had a thing for Hayley, but I kept it hidden knowing she was Damien’s. They had always only had eyes for each other.
But Damien was no longer here, and she had come back.
She had come back to me.
And fuck, I needed to do the right thing. I couldn’t make any moves on her. I just needed to help her get back on her feet—maybe be a good uncle for her little boy.
I looked down at Damien’s son sleeping in my arms, his thumb still in his mouth. I swallowed hard.
I was so fucked.
17
I watched as Hayley nervously stepped out of my room, her arms crossed over her midsection as if she were trying to protect herself. Her hair was in slight disarray from her nap, but she looked a bit better even though she really hadn’t slept that long.
She was still so fucking beautiful, though.
“Where’s William?” she asked me.
I jerked my chin towards the pallet I had made on the living room floor where the toddler was quietly playing with a spatula and some wooden spoons. I didn’t have any toys, and the kid was getting restless. I could tell he wanted to play, so I found the safest thing I could find and handed it to him.
He had been happily playing with them ever since, clanging them together and on the blanket—occasionally getting up to bang them on my leather couches.
At the sound of his mother’s voice, William got up and tottered over to her on his chubby legs, a happy squeal leaving his mouth as he grinned up at her. I managed to catch him before he face-planted when he lost his balance, and he squealed happily, clapping his hands together as he grinned up at me.