Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“And to prove that I’m using him?” I hedge.
Barbara shrugs. “I may not like that you’re here, but Levi does, and he’s important to me,” she says, opening the bags. “I’m paid to protect him. . . even from himself.”
I sit on one of the stools across from her and wait for her to push a plate toward me, contemplating what she means about Levi. I wish Laura was more like Barbara and looked after me as a person and not just my checkbook.
“Levi likes you, Zara, and because of that, it’s why I’m here. He asked me to look after you, even though he’ll be back this evening and I’m sure you’re capable of caring for yourself.”
“I am,” I tell her. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
“Why’s that, exactly?” she asks.
“For one, I want to know if you’ll take me on as a client—”
“And the other?” she asks, interrupting me.
“I told Levi that I would make breakfast for him and the girls. I know they’ll be home early, but wanted something ready for when they got here.”
“And you need my help?”
“Or thoughts on what the girls like to eat,” I say with a shrug.
“Their mama wasn’t much of a cook so I can’t imagine they’ve been eating very well. . .” she trails off, almost as if she remembers a different time. She clears her throat and gives me a curt smile. “It’ll be early, so I imagine they’ll appreciate French toast. It’s Stormy’s favorite, and from what I can gather she’s not very thrilled that you’re here.”
“It’s my favorite too.” I ignore the jab about Stormy not liking the idea that I’m here.
Barbara nods. “As far as me working for you. . . Levi told me about your publicist. That’s not how I work and would gladly take you on as a client.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Just don’t hurt my boy,” she says, her demeanor back in place. I nod and turn my attention toward my lunch without saying another thing.
levi
Twenty-Six
It’s after we land that I bring up the text from Zara telling me that she’ll have breakfast ready for us as a simple reminder of what’s waiting for us when we get home. The fact that she’s concerned about my girls and me, at this early hour, really hits home for me. Normally, I’d feel bad about not texting her right back, but I was busy with the girls and my mom, plus she indicated she was shutting her phone down, and I feel like she would’ve let me know that it was back on. I’m fairly new at this dating thing and could be completely wrong on the whole subject matter.
The girls are tired, yet oddly hyper for it being this early in the morning. I want to say it’s because they’re back where they belong, but I know that’s not true. I have a feeling that while I was sleeping, they were ingesting copious amounts of caffeine. Flying the red-eye is great in some cases, except right now all I want to do is go home and sleep. Actually, I want to crawl into bed and hold Zara. I know it’s ridiculous to think that I’ve missed her after one day, but it’s true.
All throughout the day while I was helping the girls pack and settling everything up at their schools, Zara was never far from my mind. I felt like a giddy schoolboy with his first crush, wondering when I was going to run into her again “by chance.” Knowing that she was in my house, treating it as her own only sent my feelings into overdrive.
I can’t tell if we’re moving too fast or not. We’ve both had limited love lives, both having married high school sweethearts, and both have suffered because of them. Granted, I casually dated—if you can call dinner out—dating, but stayed away from the hook-up game. That wasn’t a road I wanted to travel down, especially having two daughters. I didn’t want to set a bad example, even though I have no doubt that Iris did.
Which makes me think that I need to ask Zara to sleep in the guest bedroom. As much as I don’t want her to, I don’t want the girls to see the same lifestyle that they saw with their mother. Something tells me that Zara will understand.
With some of our luggage in hand and the rest being pushed on a trolley by a porter, the two chatty Kathy’s trail behind me as we make our way out of the terminal and into the parking garage where my truck is waiting. The girls haven’t stopped yammering since the plane landed, both going on about all the things they want to do.
“What about taking the horses out sometime today?” I suggest as I load their luggage into the back of the truck. I don’t bother looking at them to see their expression, but their quick silence has me wondering what they’re thinking. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve ridden, but I can tell you that Abby and Blaze will love it if you take them out.”