Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Panic clogged my throat. I’d put my daughter in harm’s way by trusting her with this…this…monster.
“You don’t freaking push a kid off when they throw up. You soothe them, rub their back, help them.”
Tucker snorted, shaking his head like I was full of it. “C’mon, Dylan. Get off my ass, will ya?”
“Excuse me?” I was on the verge of gutting him with my daughter’s lice comb.
“Taking care of sick kids is a woman’s territory. Men don’t have these kinds of…I dunno, maternal instincts or whatever. I did the best I could in the given situation. It’s civilization, baby. Mother Nature. We’re meant to hunt, not clean rice and chicken nuggets off the floor.”
My mouth hung open, and I stared at him silently. He meant it. He seriously thought it wasn’t his job to take care of his sick kid. The water streaming from the faucet drowned out the throbbing thoughts swirling in my head.
“So what is your role—you know, as a big, macho man with big, macho biceps?” I folded my arms.
“Provide shelter.” He crossed these things off with his fingers.
“Didn’t see much of that these past four years.” I circled a finger around his figure skeptically.
“Well, no, but if you give me a chance—”
“How much money did you contribute toward Gravity’s upbringing?” I continued.
“That’s not fair.” His eyebrows slammed together. “Your family’s loaded! Your brother’s a multimillionaire. If anything, you should be the one helping me—”
He continued talking, but I muted him out. I was losing my mind listening to his idiocy. I turned off the faucet, checked the temperature of the water, and grabbed the door handle. I walked out to the corridor, pouring myself into the living room. There I saw my naked daughter wearing Rhyland’s much-too-big biker jacket. He was crouching before her on the floor, doodling a tattoo on her arm after pushing the sleeve of his jacket up.
“…no one will mess with you after they see this. To be honest, even I’m a little scared,” Rhyland said. Gravity made a roaring sound, baring her teeth, and Rhy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re a biker, remember? Not a tiger.”
“Oh.” Gravity giggled. “What sound do bikers make?”
Rhyland rapped a wooden piece of furniture with his fist. “Hey, bartender! Get me a beer.”
A smile broke across my lips. I strode onto the scene, wagging my finger at him. “Don’t corrupt my daughter.”
“I’d never, Miss Casablancas.” Rhyland stood up, grabbed me by the waist, and tugged me to him. “I’m not even done corrupting you,” his lips murmured into mine. “Came to check in on you and Grav. Got us some pho. How’s everything going?”
I tried to push him off me, knowing Tucker was in the bathroom and could walk out at any minute. Rhyland dove down for a kiss.
“Rhy, not now.”
“Why? Grav already knows,” he murmured into the shell of my ear.
“Tuckwad doesn’t.”
Speak of the devil. He strode out of the hallway and looked between the three of us.
“Coltridge.” Tucker gave him a swift nod.
“Tuckwad.”
“Any chance I can borrow some clothes?” Tucker asked boldly, gesturing to himself. “Gravity had an accident.”
“Gravity doesn’t have accidents. She graces us with her sometimes unexplained art,” Rhyland corrected. “And sure, I’ll grab you something to wear from upstairs. But it’s not a borrow. Those clothes are contaminated once you touch them. I don’t want them back.”
Tucker’s throat bobbed with the nasty words he must’ve swallowed down.
I scooped up Grav and got rid of the jacket on her. “I’ll go give her a bath.”
“I’ll take one in your bedroom,” Tucker said, ignoring the fact that I’d clearly told him he couldn’t.
“You’ll stay right here until I come back with those clothes,” Rhyland corrected him.
We split to go our separate ways. Gravity was too tired to play with her duckies and her boats. I quickly got her into pajamas. She skipped the pho (said she wasn’t hungry), drank some water, and asked to go to bed. Since her fever was down, I decided to forgo the Tylenol and just check on her in an hour. Hopefully by then, she’d have sweated the rest of it out.
When I walked back to the living room, only Rhyland was there. He was scrubbing off the remainder of the vomit on the couch, but everything else was squeaky clean and back in order. For the millionth time, I thanked God for creating Rhyland Coltridge.
“Where’s Tucker?” I asked tiredly.
“Taking a shower in your bathroom,” Rhyland replied, sounding none too pleased about it. “How’s Grav?”
“Out cold,” I sighed, wiping my brow. I could use a warm bath myself. And maybe a small nervous breakdown.
“Poor thing.” Rhyland grabbed my ass cheeks, tugging me so I was flush against him, pressing against his erection.
“Me or Grav?”
“Both of you.” He leaned in to give me a tantalizing, sloppy kiss that made all my troubles disappear, even if for one moment. “Now, you can tell Tuckwad to fuck off, and we can salvage your day together.”