Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Afternoon, Wes. Levi here.”
For a moment, I freaked, thinking he was going to say that Soraya was back. I grabbed Wes' hand.
“I’m in the truck with my girls,” Wes said, most likely warning the sheriff that there was a four-year-old with big ears. Especially big, since shifters supposedly heard really well.
“I won’t keep you. Just wanted to tell you that I worked with Selena Jenkins. Papers were drawn up as you wanted.”
Selena Jenkins was a lawyer, but also a shifter, who Levi said had helped their pack members in the past. The papers offered Soraya a sum of money in exchange for relinquishing any custody rights to Remy. Wes would have full custody. Permanently. The sum was vast for a not-quite-starving artist like me, but not for a billionaire.
I had a feeling he’d have paid anything to make Soraya go away and never come back.
“And?”
“And they’re all signed,” Levi replied. “Congratulations.”
Wes sighed, then smiled. “Thanks.”
It was over. Soraya was gone. She’d gotten what she wanted–money. Wes got a guarantee that she could never take Remy away.
The call ended, and he pulled back on the road.
“That was a good use of the money,” I told him. When all of a sudden one had enough money to buy a fleet of planes, it was hard to even know where to start spending it. Which Wes didn’t seem to want to do. He was content. Remy was happy.
That was all that mattered.
He nodded. “Another good use is getting your house fixed. I’m not waiting for the insurance to go through.”
My mouth opened. “What? I–I can pay you back.”
“Do you want me to pull the truck over again?” he warned.
“No!” Remy called.
“Wes–”
“We’re a family now, honey. I don’t plan on buying a yacht and putting your name on it or anything, but I think we can swing fixing your roof.”
He had a point.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I didn’t really want a second job at Cody’s.”
“The list of consequences is getting longer the more you talk,” he said, his voice tipped quiet.
“You don’t want to move rocks!” Remy said from the back, proving she could hear anyway.
We pulled into Mom’s driveway, and Wes put the truck in park.
“Can I go ask for extra cherries now?” Remy asked.
“Yes,” Wes said.
She undid the buckles on the car seat herself and climbed out. She raced off to the house, leaving her door wide open.
“You’re not getting a job at Cody’s. I can support you.”
I turned to face him fully. “I’m not going to sit around eating cherries all day, Wes.”
“I know that. I want you to focus on your passion. Your pottery.”
I cocked my head. “Really?”
“Of course.”
I swallowed, looked down at our joined hands. “I was thinking about turning my house into a shop. Maybe a co-op for other artists to show and sell their work.” I looked up through my lashes at Wes, unsure if the idea was a good one. “I mean, since I’m not living there any longer.”
Reaching out, he unclipped my seat belt and pulled me across the center console.
“Wes!” I cried.
Once I was settled–a little awkwardly–in his lap, he kissed me.
And kissed me.
If we weren’t in Mom’s driveway, we’d take things a lot further. Heck, all the way.
“Miz Wall said to stop kissin’ and come inside!” Remy called from the front stoop.
I looked to Wes, and we laughed.
“Can you make a baby brother first? Cassie at school says her parents made a baby ‘cause they kissed all the time.”
My eyes widened, and then I laughed some more. Wes' eyes narrowed and heated.
We hadn’t talked about a baby.
But–
Maybe?
For now, I was happy. I was loved. I was a mother. Life was perfect.
And crazy. Because a certain four-year-old was definitely going to run us ragged.