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)
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath.
It’s July 3, and we’re on our way to the beach, where we’ll be spending the weekend with Ryder’s family for their annual Du Ponte Enterprises Fourth of July picnic. My head should be here with Ryder and the girls, but instead, I’m worrying about Brian being served divorce papers.
Ryder told me everything is going to be okay, but until the papers are signed and the divorce has officially gone through, I won’t believe it.
“Kira,” Ryder says, shaking me from my thoughts, “I can practically feel you vibrating with stress. Breathe, baby.”
“I’m trying,” I choke out. “But I can’t help it. I can feel it deep down—something is going to go wrong.”
“And it might,” he says, taking my hand in his and bringing it up to his lips for a tender kiss. “But I’ll be right there by your side, and we’ll face whatever is flung our way together. I’ve hired security for when we get back, and he’ll be everywhere you are when you go out. He’s trained to handle men like Brian. And Debra is going to keep us updated on Brian’s next move.”
He entwines our fingers together and kisses each of my knuckles, and I slowly start to calm down.
“We’re staying at a beautiful hotel on the beach with the girls, and we’re going to have a great time. Don’t let this ruin our weekend. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it when we get back.”
“Okay,” I agree as Ryder pulls up to a luxurious resort.
As he drives around to where the valet is waiting, we pass a massive three-level stone fountain.
A gentleman opens my door, and I thank him, then proceed to grab the double stroller for the girls.
“Mommy, look!” Violet points to the wall of the hotel, where the address reads 5005. “Five, just like me!”
“Not yet.” I ruffle her hair playfully. “I still have one more week of you being four.”
Violet rolls her eyes like she’s four going on fourteen, and I groan, making Ryder laugh.
“I can’t believe my little girl is going to be five next week,” I say as we head inside with the girls. “It feels like she was a baby just yesterday.”
“Have you thought any more about where you want her to go to school?” Ryder asks, referring to the conversation we had the other night when I brought up needing to sign her up for kindergarten.
He’s planning to send Addie to a local private school—even though she’s years away from starting school—and suggested Violet go there as well. I looked it up, and it’s ridiculously expensive, but it has the reputation of being one of the best. Apparently, there’s a wait list to get in, but with Ryder’s name, he assured me we’d have no problem getting her in on short notice.
“It’s hard to let you pay for it,” I admit. “I know if we’re going to have a future together, I need to get used to the fact that you have money but …” I wave around the extravagant hotel lobby we’re standing in and sigh. “It’s just a lot to get used to.”
“Kira,” Ryder says, glancing at me, “I don’t just have money. I have billions of dollars that I’ll never spend in our lifetime. Paying for Violet’s education won’t even make a small dent in my account. I want to take care of you both.”
“Ugh,” I groan, shaking my head. “Let’s talk about this next week, after she’s turned five and I’ve accepted that she’s no longer my baby.”
Ryder chuckles. “You got it.”
We step into line to check in, and Ryder slides his arm across the back of my shoulders and leans in, planting a soft kiss to the curve of my neck.
“I love the way you smell, like sweet coconut,” he murmurs. “I made sure to get us a room with a hot tub, and tonight, after the girls are asleep, I’m going to eat you and then fuck you in that hot tub.”
“Mmm. Is it bedtime yet?” I whisper, making him chuckle.
Ryder gets us checked in, and then we head to the private elevator that will take us up to the penthouse. Along the way, he’s stopped by several people he knows who work for his dad. They’re all polite and give me hope that maybe this weekend will go better than Ryder predicted.
“We’re staying on the same floor as my dad and brother,” he mutters as the elevator dings and the doors open. “Hopefully, we won’t run into either of them until the end of the weekend.”
We walk straight to the first door and are about to walk into the room when his name is called from behind us.
“Dad,” Ryder says, stopping and turning around.
“I’m glad you could finally make it.” Mr. Du Ponte glances from his son to me. “I’m Henry Du Ponte.” He extends his hand and smiles, showing off his perfectly straight white teeth.