Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I bark out a dramatically loud laugh. “Oh, but it is.”
The minute he’s out the door, I pull my cell phone out and find Landon’s number, hitting call. He answers on the second ring.
“Harper…”
“Hey,” I breathe, his voice instantly calming me. “I have a favor to ask you.”
“Well, damn, getting straight to the point, huh?”
“Oh… umm…”
“Harper.” He laughs. “I’m just messing with you. Whatever it is you need, I got you.”
I sigh in relief. “Thank you.”
“So, what do you need?”
“I was wondering if you could teach me how to play baseball.” When Landon is quiet for several seconds, I check to make sure the call wasn’t disconnected.” Hello?”
“Wait… you’re serious?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Yes,” I say dryly. “I need to learn how to catch and throw and bat.” Since Richard isn’t willing to step up to the plate, it’s up to me to give our son what he needs.
“Sorry.” He chuckles again. “I thought you were kidding. Damn, took you almost thirteen years, but you’re finally interested? Is this because you want to impress me? Because if it is, I promise you, you don’t need to know anything about baseball to do that. What you did with your tongue the other night—”
I roll my eyes. He’s such a cocky bastard. “Okay, I get it,” I say, cutting him off. “No, this is not to impress you. Hunter is upset because his father is too busy to practice with him, so I want to be able to help him, but I suck at baseball and you’re good at it.”
Landon is quiet for another moment and then sighs into the phone. “Of course I’ll help you, Harp. You’re a damn good mom. Are you guys doing anything right now? We can hit the batting cages if you want. I know Hunter wants to practice hitting.”
“He already left with Brendan and his dad, but what about tomorrow after camp?”
“That sounds good,” he says. “So, if Hunter’s gone, are you and Ella making it a girl’s night?”
I love that he remembered my daughter’s name.
“No, she actually went to her aunt’s for the night. She and her cousin are almost the same age and are best friends.”
“So, you’re alone?” Landon asks, his voice deep and husky.
“I am… I was thinking of doing some painting in my studio tonight. Maybe try out a couple possible lessons.”
“Lessons?” he asks.
“Oh! I didn’t tell you!” Because I was too busy defending my job to my ex-husband. “I got a teaching position at the kids’ school. I’ll be teaching art.”
“Congratulations! That’s amazing. I bet you’ll be the hottest art teacher there.”
I laugh out loud at what a damn flirt he is.
“What do you say I bring over dinner later to celebrate?” he offers.
The thought of seeing him tonight has me feeling nervous and excited. “That sounds perfect. I’ll be painting in my studio. Pick up whatever and I’ll leave the door unlocked. The code to get into my neighborhood is two-four-four-one.”
We hang up, and after changing into one of my outfits I wear when I paint, I head into the den, which doubles as my studio. With my earbuds in my ears, I grab a blank canvas and get lost in painting. I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing, I don’t realize how much time has passed or that Landon has arrived and is watching me paint.
I don’t even hear him enter the room. But when his hand lands on my shoulder, I feel him, and forgetting that I was expecting him, I spin in a circle, paintbrush still in my hand, and swipe it across his chest, as if my paint-covered brush is going to do anything to defend me from an intruder.
The moment I see it’s Landon, and that he’s doubled over in laughter—realizing I can’t hear him because my earbuds are still in my ears—I rip them out.
“Oh my God!” I gasp. “I’m so sorry!” I hurry over to the small sink I had installed and wet some paper towels. As I’m running back over to him, I’m not watching where I’m going, and I trip on the leg of the easel.
Landon steps forward to try to save it—and totally does—but not before the paint, which is all open and sitting in the wood container attached to the front, flies forward with the easel and splashes the entire front of his body.
Kill me now…
Twenty
Landon
After making sure the easel is stable, I glance down at my outfit, which is now dripping with purples and reds and yellows. My shoes are covered as well. When I look over at Harper, she’s standing about a foot away in shock, holding some paper towels in her hands. She opens her mouth then closes it, then opens it up again, before she bites down on her bottom lip nervously. She’s waiting to see how I’m going to react. But what she forgets is that I’m not her dick of an ex-husband. I love Harper just the way she is—clumsiness and all.