Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Stepping back at the coffin he’d installed, he saw his son, Ben, high-five one of the zombies and then come running toward him.
“Mommy baked cookies.”
“I think it’s time we go and steal one.” He helped Ben onto his shoulders as they walked into the house.
Noelle was in the kitchen. Last week, she had been working from her grandmother’s recipe book. The first year they’d been married, he’d gotten her everything she needed, it had been an experience and a half. Noelle had cried a great deal as she followed each recipe, recanting old tales of her as a child.
The love she had for her grandmother was so freaking sweet and beautiful. Entering the kitchen, he saw his little girl Beatrice at the counter, rubbing her hands into whatever food she was supposed to be eating.
His heavily pregnant wife was at the counter, piping bag in hand, decorating some cookies.
He hadn’t been kidding when it came to keeping her barefoot and pregnant. Five years together, two children, with a third on the way.
“Mommy!” Ben said.
She looked up and smiled.
Noelle had flour on her cheek, and he didn’t know why, but it made him love her even more so. She was an amazing mom. During her pregnancy with Ben, she had been terrified, and she’d wake up in the night, worried she’d be awful.
He would have to console her, promise her that he would make sure she never turned into her mother. That she would be loved. That they were nothing like their parents. Noelle wouldn’t drink or do drugs, and he wouldn’t abandon them.
They had each other, and Evil was so fucking thankful for that every single day.
“Have you two nearly finished?” Noelle asked.
“Yeah, it looks amazing.” Ben opened his arms wide.
Noelle chuckled.
Evil helped his son down and placed him on the counter. Glancing over at the frosted cookies, he tried to keep his face neutral.
Noelle had a knack for preserving, cooking, and baking. When it came to decorating, it was a mess.
“I’m trying,” Noelle said.
He looked up to see her lip pushed out. “They’re good.”
“They’re a mess.”
“It’s like the living dead,” Ben said, raising his hands as if he was a zombie.
“See, kids, don’t lie.”
“They’re great, Mommy,” Ben said, grabbing a cookie.
“They’re amazing, Noelle.” He pushed some of her hair out of her face, and Ben made a yucky sound as soon as Evil kissed her. “Tell me, are you happy,” he said.
“Evil Carter, you don’t need to keep asking me if I’m happy. You know I am. I am very happy, very much in love, and very much pregnant. Now, take a cookie, and enjoy it.”
Oh, he was going to enjoy his cookie, and tonight, he would be nibbling on every single inch of his cookie until she screamed his name in pleasure.
The End