Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Maybe there’s more to it, my subconscious screams. You thought Brian was a good guy, and look how he turned out.
I swallow down the lump of emotion clogging my airway, pushing my thoughts away. I refuse to judge Ryder because Brian was an asshole. Just because one man was a piece of shit doesn’t mean every man is. Besides, it’s not like I’m emotionally or physically involved with Ryder. I’m simply his nanny.
“You’re a good dad,” I tell him. “She might not have a mom in her life, but she has you, and that’s all she needs.”
He nods, but the look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t agree.
“So, the book?” I say, changing the subject. “What happens once she finds out she’s pregnant?”
“I could tell you, but it’s better when you read it.” He smirks.
“You suck.” I poke my tongue out. “Just read me one part,” I say, hoping the distraction will help my nightmares disappear and sleep to come a bit easier. Otherwise, tomorrow is going to be rough. I enjoy taking care of Addie, especially since it allows me to also spend my days with Violet while getting paid, but taking care of a toddler on almost no sleep can be brutal.
“Fine.”
He flips through the book, and I take another sip of my tea and then lie on my side, snuggling into the pillow.
“I think I’ll have to start from the beginning,” he says, “Otherwise, it won’t make sense.”
“Okay.”
“It’s the prologue, and her name is Sophia.”
He glances up at me momentarily, and I smile at him, thankful he’s entertaining my request.
“‘Three redheaded sluts,’” he begins.
“I drop the shot glasses onto the bar top, and the three women thank me.
“‘To redheaded sluts,’ one woman—a brunette—yells over the blaring music. ‘And may they all burn in the pits of fiery hell.’
“I feel ya, sister.”
I chuckle at the way the book starts, remembering the time I came across the redheaded woman on Brian’s phone.
“What?” Ryder asks.
“Nothing. I just … feel the same way about redheads.”
The meaning behind my words must be clear because Ryder simply nods, his lips thinning, and then he continues to read.
“The other two women—both blondes—cheer in agreement as they lift their glasses, clinking them against each other before they tip them back and swallow down their shots in one fell swoop.”
I close my eyes as he reads, getting lost in the story and the comfort of his voice. Instead of reading in a monotone voice, he sounds like he’s narrating the story. I laugh at the parts that are funny, and my heart clenches in my chest when it turns sad.
And before I know it, I’m waking up in my bed, having no clue how I got there. I think back to last night … Ryder sharing some of his story with me. I must’ve fallen asleep while he was reading to me. Did he carry me to bed?
I glance at my phone and see it’s already almost nine in the morning. Shit! I overslept. Why the hell didn’t my alarm go off?
I throw my blankets off me and rush down the hall, not bothering to brush my teeth or pee. When I find Violet’s bedroom empty, I race down the stairs. The kitchen is devoid of people, and so is the living room.
My heart pounds in my chest at all the possibilities. And then I hear the screeching sound of a toddler. I follow it down the hall and into Addie’s massive playroom, where I find the girls and Ryder sitting at the round table with plates of food and drinks. The girls are wearing princess dresses and tiaras on their heads.
When I glance at Ryder, he’s also wearing …
“Are you wearing a tiara?” I choke out through a laugh.
“Got a problem with it?” he asks, quirking a single brow.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Mommy, we’re having a princess tea party!” Violet exclaims. “Sit down!”
She gets up and grabs another tiara from the box of play clothes. I sit in the open seat, and she puts it on my head.
“There! Now, you’re a princess too.”
“Why, thank you.” I smile up at my daughter and then glance at Ryder. “Sorry about this morning. My alarm didn’t go off. You should’ve woken me up.”
“I turned it off,” he says nonchalantly.
“What?”
“It looked like you could use the sleep, and I’m working from home anyway.”
Butterflies fill my belly at his gesture. I can’t remember the last time anyone gave a shit about whether I had enough sleep.
“Thank you. If you want, I can take it from here.”
“And miss out on this amazing tea party?” His eyes, filled with mirth, meet mine. “I’m good.”
“Here’s a princess cupcake,” Violet says, setting one of the cranberry muffins I baked yesterday on my plate. “It’s magical.”
As I take a bite of my muffin and then a sip of my milk, I look around at the people sitting with me. Violet is talking animatedly while Addie watches her, absorbing everything she’s saying. I stop on Ryder, who’s smiling at my daughter, discussing which princess movie was the best and why, and I thank whatever god or fate that he came into our lives. It’s because of him that my daughter and I are no longer sleeping in our car and are safe. I have a job and can save money for our future. I don’t know what the future holds, but in this moment, everything is okay because of him.