Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Everyone laughed, including me. I had just been ratted out by my kid.
Josh tried a mouthful of lasagna, shutting his eyes as he chewed. He looked at Rosa, who was standing close. “That is the most delicious thing I have ever eaten.”
She laughed, delighted, and patted his head. “You stick with me, little man. I make sure you get all the good food.”
“I love this place,” he muttered.
I chuckled and met Cherry’s gaze. She leaned close, her lips next to my ear. “Mooning over me, Mr. Salvatore?”
I turned, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “Always, Cherry G.”
She grinned, and I saw Josh watching us. I kissed her again. “Behave.” I threw a wink his way, and he shook his head as if to tell me I was the one who had to behave. Then he turned to Hannah and started peppering her with questions about being a cop. Asking Chase about the interior he was working on.
“He is so bright,” Cherry said. “Inquisitive about everything.”
“I know.”
“I think he and Hannah are going to get along just fine.”
“He is staring at her like she hung the moon. I think introducing them might have given him something he’s wanted for a long time.”
Cherry laughed. “They’re exchanging numbers. How cute.”
“She gives hers up far easier than her mother did.”
Cherry glanced sideways. “You are a lot more trouble than Josh will ever be. I was being cautious. And I was right. You’re a thief.”
“A thief?” I asked.
“Yes. You stole my heart.”
I grinned and kissed her harder than I should with my son watching. But I didn’t care. “I’m not giving it back either.”
“Good.”
The hours flew by, and all too soon, I was taking Josh back to Kingston. Cherry stayed behind to give us a chance to be alone.
“So, you okay to stay the night next week?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Great. We bought a new house, and we’re going to see it again. You can come with us.” I cleared my throat. “Choose which room you’d like. We can paint it, and you can pick out whatever furniture you want.”
“Cool.”
I glanced his way to see him staring at me.
“What?”
“Did you really walk away? When I was a baby?”
I drew in a deep breath. “That’s a complex question, Josh. But no, I didn’t walk away. I wanted to be part of your life.”
“But Mom wouldn’t let you.”
I lifted one shoulder.
“She doesn’t like other people much. She never lets me go to friends’ houses or do sleepovers.”
“That must suck.”
He nodded. “Sometimes. I can have friends over, but she sticks around, so it’s not much fun.”
“Sometimes, Josh, people…well, people like your mom have a hard time sharing.”
He laughed. “You’re a lot nicer when you talk about her than she is when she talks about you. But you know what?”
I pulled up in front of his house, putting the car in park and turning to face him. “What?”
“I’m gonna make up my own mind about you. And so far, I like you. You seem nice. And I really like Cherry.”
I smiled. “I know the feeling.”
“Can I come to your wedding? I’ve never been to a wedding.”
“Absolutely.”
The front door opened, and Roxanne stood on the steps. She looked pointedly at her watch, and I wanted to laugh. I was ten minutes early. But it had been a good day, and I didn’t want to ruin it fighting with her over a few moments.
“Your mom is waiting, Josh B’Gosh,” I said, the old nickname I used to call him slipping out.
He paused before opening the door. “You called me that when I was little.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I remember that.”
He got out of the car, stopping before he shut the door.
“Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I, um, call you in the week? Or text you? Like, just to say hi?”
“Anytime. Day or night.”
“Okay. Good. And I’ll see you Saturday, right? At nine?”
“I’ll be here.”
He looked behind him. “Okay. Bye.”
“Night, kiddo. See you soon.”
Josh sent me a couple of texts on Monday and Tuesday, then there was nothing the rest of the week. Cherry told me he had sent her one on Tuesday and she had wished him well for a test he had on Wednesday, but he never replied.
“He’s probably busy,” she assured me. “He’s a teenager.”
I knew she was no doubt right, but when I arrived on Saturday to pick him up, I sensed a change in him. Roxanne hadn’t bothered to come outside to goad me, for which I was grateful, but Josh’s demeanor was unexpected. He was quiet in the car, answering most of my questions with a grunt or a short yes or no.
“Cherry has breakfast,” I said. “Then we’ll head to the garage if you want.”
“Sure,” he replied, but not with the enthusiasm I expected.
“How was the test?”
He shrugged. “What I expected. I failed.”
I frowned. “Maybe we can go over it, see if I can—”