Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
You’re crushing on a dinosaur.
A sexy, muscular, delicious-smelling dinosaur.
How old is Reid anyway?
Maybe I’ll peek at his wallet one day while he’s sleeping. He always leaves it on the bar in the kitchen, fully trusting everyone in his home not to do him dirty.
Would Mom take advantage of him?
She’s not the “steal your credit card” type, but she does let him take care of everything. Like groceries for instance. I’ve never seen her buy any food for his house. Even when we stayed in the empty townhome, we never had anything in the cabinets and would always go over to Reid’s to eat.
Soon, I’m going to be able to help Reid out since Mom won’t.
“I have an interview,” I blurt out, unable to hold back the excitement.
We pull into the parking place in front of our home and Reid shuts off the truck.
“Interview?” He cants his head to the side, studying me. “For what? College?”
My elation at a possible job shrivels. Reid talks a lot about “when I go to college” and it’s starting to piss me off. It’s like he’s eager to get rid of me. How is he going to feel when I tell him I’m not going? I have other plans that don’t involve more stupid school.
“No,” I grumble. “A job.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “Why would you want to go and get one of those?”
“To help out,” I say, pinning him with a knowing stare. “Since, you know…” Mom doesn’t.
“No.” He gives a sharp shake of his head. “You shouldn’t feel like you need to pitch in. You’re a child, not a roommate.”
I tug my phone out of my pocket, rip the phone case off to reveal my driver’s license, and hold it in front of his face. “What’s that date, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, actually, I don’t,” I clip out, stuffing it back where it goes. “Maybe I want a job to just get out and experience new things.”
Hurt has begun to coil itself around my heart, squeezing to the point of pain. My obsession with this man always ends in heartache. He’s my mom’s man. Not mine. So why would I expect him to even care about what I want out of life? That’s not his role for me. Apparently, it’s caretaker and that’s it. Boring.
“What’s the job?” he asks, voice softer and tinged with guilt.
“Babysitter.”
“Congrats. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that. You’re great with Linda’s kids.”
Linda’s kids are tyrants, but they love me.
“At least with this gig, I’ll get paid,” I say with a smile, tension bleeding out of me.
“We should celebrate.”
I perk up and meet his glittering hazel eyes. “Oh yeah, how?”
Filthy images of us on the couch together assault my brain. Warmth burns at my cheeks, but I’ve got a full face of pretty makeup on today, so he probably can’t tell.
“We can order pizza and watch—”
“Don’t say golf,” I interrupt with a groan.
Seriously, how much golf can one man consume in his lifetime? Apparently, limitless amounts.
“Nah,” he says with a wide grin that lights up his handsome face. “There’s a new horror movie on Netflix.”
Right now, if an outside were to look in through the truck windows, they might confuse us for an actual couple. At least, in my fantasy, that’s what I see. His smile for me is much different than the ones he gives everyone else.
It’s intense and filled with love.
Even if the love I feel emanating from him is more fatherly in nature, it’s there. I’m not imagining that part. It makes me feel safe and secure and cared for.
Problem is, it’s not enough.
I crave more facets of this love.
Deeper, sexual, feral need.
Would a man like Reid Foss ever reciprocate those feelings?
Probably not. He’s a good man to his very core.
Falling for his girlfriend’s daughter would be very, very bad.
Reid
Cole chuckles when I yawn so hard my eyes water.
“Long night, big man?”
A pang of regret jabs me in the chest. Staying up late watching horror movies was a bad idea for many reasons. For one, I knew I had to be up and ready to run at five this morning. But the main issue is with whom I spent that time with.
Just me and Emma on the couch.
One blanket.
Jumping at everything on the television.
She’d fallen asleep with her feet pushed against the side of my leg. When I’d heard the keys jangling outside the front door, signaling Amara’s return, I’d jolted off the couch like I’d been busted doing something truly wicked.
But it wasn’t bad, was it?
“It’s fine,” I mutter. “I’ll wake up soon enough.”
A door closes nearby. Cole’s attention darts past me and he smiles. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
I swivel around and am confused to see Emma walking over to us. She’s dressed in running gear—the new shoes I bought her, tight black leggings, and a Nike hoodie. Her chaotic dark tresses have been twisted into a messy bun.