Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“No,” I grumbled.
“Mitchell said you did a number on yourself last night.”
I laughed. “Yeah well, nothing like drowning your sorrows in alcohol, right?”
“Did it help?”
Glancing at him, I half smiled. “For a little while.”
“And there lies the problem. It’s a temporary numb.”
I nodded. “Sometimes it feels good to feel nothing.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Daddy,” Chloe said as she tugged our hands.
“One. Two. Three,” I said. Tripp and I swung her again. We rounded the corner of the school and my breath caught when I saw her.
“Uncle Tripp, this is my school! That’s my teacher!”
Chloe dropped my hand and pulled Tripp toward Paxton. About half the parents were already dropping their kids off in the morning drop off line rather than walking them up. Fuck that. I knew if I walked Chloe up I’d get to see Paxton. Plus, I wanted to spend as much time with Chloe as I could.
“Long time no see, Paxton!” Tripp said while Paxton flashed him a smile.
“You saw Uncle Tripp last night, Ms. Monroe?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God Chloe didn’t call her Paxton.
With a sweet laugh that settled nicely in my chest, Paxton answered, “Yes. I saw your daddy and other uncles too.”
Chloe grinned from ear to ear. “Are you and daddy going to date again?”
Everyone turned to look at me. Including one of the moms.
Oh shit.
“Chloe, why don’t you go line up with the other students.”
“But—”
Paxton regarded Chloe and raised an eyebrow. The argument was over and Chloe walked to the other kids. Turning her focus on me, Paxton’s hands went to her hips.
Lifting my palms in defense, I said, “Amelia said something in front of Chloe. I didn’t say a thing.”
Tripp frowned. “Why would she say something?”
“I don’t know. She’s stupid?”
“Steed!” Paxton said. “We don’t use those words! Honestly, I’m going to have to ban the parents from walking up!”
The first bell rang and Paxton turned quickly, making her way to her students. Chloe turned and stared at me. Her eyes started to build with tears.
“Oh no. She’s going to cry again,” I whispered.
“What?” Tripp said with horror in his voice.
Paxton walked up to the students and called out, “Shave and a haircut.”
They all stopped talking and replied, “Two bits.” With their complete attention, she gave them instructions on walking into the building.
I couldn’t help but smile. I glanced over to Tripp, who wore a happy expression too.
“Remember Mom used to sing that to get all of our attention?” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah. Looks like Paxton uses it for the same thing.”
Nodding, I glanced at the door, hoping Paxton would turn back. She didn’t and that wounded me more than I wanted to admit. At the same time, my heart soared as I watched her walk into the building holding Chloe’s hand.
Tripp hit my arm. “Let’s go. Dad needs me to pick up some paperwork for him.”
We headed back to my truck. “So how much do you know what happens in this town of ours?”
Tripp laughed. “I know a lot.”
“Do you know if Joe Miller is dating Paxton?”
Tripp stopped walking and looked at me. “I can find out, if you really want to know.”
I felt like a creeper, but I needed to know and if I asked Paxton, she might lie and tell me yes just to piss me off.
“Do it,” I said as I opened the truck door and climbed in.
September flew in like a storm. Literally. The cold front toppled the tents set up for the fall festival, one of our main fundraisers, and if we couldn’t get everything set back up it would mean a lot of lost money for the school.
“Paxton! We need more help! I can’t hammer this stupid tent stake in,” Corina called out.
I let out a frustrated groan.
First and fourth grade were in charge of parent volunteers for this year’s fall festival. It rotated with each year for the different grades. Corina was having a hell of a time trying to round up this year’s first grade parents to help with anything. We were almost a month into the school year, and she still didn’t have a classroom parent.
Who in the hell could I call to help?
Joe crossed my mind, but if I called him, he’d get the wrong idea like he did three weeks ago when he walked me home from Cord’s bar. It was stupid of me to use him as a shoulder to cry on. When he leaned in to kiss me, I put the brakes on fast.
“Um, let me call my dad,” I said.
The wind blew hard, and the temperature was dropping. If it kept falling, it would be too cold for the kids to enjoy themselves. My father’s phone rang, and I prayed he would answer.
“Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Dad. I need help. We’re trying to set up for the fall festival and none of the dads showed up to help us. This wind is kicking our butts.”