Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What are your plans today?” I ask her.
“You’re off, so I was going to make myself scarce to give you some time with Cam.”
“No,” I say quickly. “Spend the day with us.”
She looks over her shoulder at me. There’s confusion in those big brown eyes of hers. “I don’t want to take your time with him. I know that’s important to you.”
“We both enjoy spending time with you. I mean, unless you don’t want to,” I say, hoping like hell that’s not the case.
“Of course, that’s not it. I just wanted to give you some time.”
“I need time with both of you,” I confess. She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t have to. Her smile tells me she’s in.
“I need to get him changed and some breakfast,” she says, starting to pull away.
I hold on a little tighter. “Just a few more minutes,” I tell her, and she sinks back into the mattress into my embrace. I hold her close while we both watch Camden playing with his toy kitchen. I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, my son deems what he’s working on is finished and brings it to us to try.
Sloane pulls away from me, sitting up and taking the plastic eggs and bacon from Camden, and pretends to eat them.
“Swoan, yummy.” He nods, runs back to his kitchen, and brings me a similar plate of plastic food. “Daddy, eat,” he says, pointing at the plate.
Doing as I’m told, I pretend to devour my food and then claim I’m full, as does Sloane. Camden takes our plates, proud of himself, and puts them in the sink in his kitchen. “All right, kiddo, let’s get your butt changed and go down to the kitchen,” I tell my son, before turning to Sloane. “Go take a bath, a shower, whatever. I’m on Cam duty today. You’re not here to take care of him today. You’re here to spend time with us. I’ll make us some breakfast,” I tell her, kissing her temple, before standing and stepping over the bed railing.
“I don’t mind helping. I can get him changed if you want to start breakfast.”
“Nope. No can do. Cam, buddy, do you want to help Daddy make some more food for Sloane?”
“Cam help.” He nods and rushes toward me. I scoop him up in my arms, feel his squishy diaper, and cringe. “Let’s get you changed. Maybe we start trying to use the potty. What do you say?”
“Potty?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
Sloane laughs. The sound fills the room and wraps around me like a warm embrace. “I don’t think he’s quite there yet, Daddy, but soon,” she says, standing from the bed. “I guess I’ll go shower.”
“We’ll have breakfast ready in no time,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off Camden, where he’s lying on the changing table. I make quick work of his diaper change and toss him over my shoulder to carry him downstairs. He laughs, and my lips tug up in a smile. I’ve been doing more of that lately. And although my son often makes me smile, it’s also his nanny, my friend, the woman I can’t stop thinking about, who’s contributing to that happiness these days, as well.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve got plates of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs piled on the counter. Camden is in his booster seat at the island, chowing down, when Sloane walks into the room.
“Swoan, pamcake!” Camden holds up a piece of his breakfast and shows it to her.
“You’re eating like a big boy.” She smiles at him.
I take her in. She’s wearing a pair of short athletic shorts and a tank top, with her hair pulled up in a wet, messy knot on top of her head. She’s not wearing a stitch of makeup, and she’s fucking beautiful. She looks comfortable and like she belongs here.
“You look beautiful,” I voice my thoughts, because she needs to know how gorgeous she is.
She looks down at herself and laughs. “I look like a slob, but we’re having a lounging day, right?”
“We are. Just the three of us.” I smile at her.
“Sounds perfect. This looks incredible. Can I help with anything?”
“Nope, it’s done. Just make yourself a plate, and grab a seat. What do you want to drink?”
“Oh, I can get it.” She starts for the cabinet, but I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her tightly to my chest.
“Let me take care of you today.”
Peering up at me under long lashes, her brown eyes sparkle. “Okay. Orange juice, please.”
“You got it.” I kiss her forehead and reluctantly release her so she can fix a plate before choosing the seat at the kitchen island next to Camden.
“Swoan, bite.”
I glance up in time to see Camden feeding her a bite of his pancake, and she takes it, chewing slowly, and exaggerating how good it is. My son smiles at her as if she’s the most remarkable thing he’s ever seen in his life, and all I can think is: Same, son. Same.