Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
“Pfft. Everyone knows how to do that,” he replied dismissively.
“Cool. We’ll play for the swing.”
“Shouldn’t you just give it to me?” he asked. “My mama died.”
“My mama is dead too,” she told him. “I miss her a lot.”
Ever since Mama died, Casey’s life had been chaotic. A father who yelled, brothers who didn’t understand her, and her grandparents had lived hours away.
“Oh, sorry. It’s hard,” he said, his hands dropping to his sides.
“Sure is. You know, I could give you the swing but wouldn’t it be more fun to win it from me?” she asked.
What are you doing, Casey? He’s a sad, lonely kid.
But she was a sad, lonely adult and this was the most she’d talked to anyone in weeks.
Pathetic?
It sure was.
He tilted his head to the side. “You got any more candy?”
She glanced at the lollipop in her hand. “Yep.”
“Grape ones?”
“Of course I’ve got grape. What sort of question is that?” She swore that she saw his lips twitch. But his small face scrunched back into a frown so quickly that she guessed she was mistaken.
Reaching into her jacket pocket she drew out several more lollipops.
“Whoa. You carry candy around in your pocket?” the kid asked.
“You don’t?”
“My papa wouldn’t let me.”
“Yeah, parents are rough like that. Always telling you to not eat too much sugar or your teeth will rot. Pfft.” She showed him her teeth. “See? Perfect teeth. And I’ve never gone to the dentist.”
His eyes widened. “Never?”
“Well, not since I became an adult. And I’m fine. It’s all a myth.”
She did have that one tooth in the back of her mouth that was kind of disintegrating. But it didn’t hurt so she was ignoring it. There was no evidence it was due to her sugar consumption. Maybe she’d hurt it eating an apple.
No one talked about how apples could attack your teeth.
“Cool. I hate the dentist.”
“Who doesn’t?” She held out the grape lollipop to him.
He eyed it like he thought it was a snake about to bite.
“Problem?” she asked.
“I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers,” he told her.
“Good call.” She nodded. “I’ll eat it.”
A calculating look entered his face. “If I knew your name you wouldn’t be a stranger, though.”
Casey had to grin. “I guess that’s right, small man-child. I’m Casey.”
“That’s a pretty name,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said hoarsely. “It was my mom’s name. She was the best person I know. What about you?”
“My name’s Wyatt.”
“Wow. Good cowboy name,” she said as she handed the candy over.
He ripped off the packaging and put it in his mouth.
“Good?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“So what’s your dad’s name? Jesse? Levi? Colt? Always liked the name Colt.”
The boy’s eyes widened. Had she guessed right? Why wasn’t he saying anything?
Shit.
He wasn’t choking on the lollipop, was he?
“Actually, it’s Jeb,” a deep voice said from behind her. “Jeb Wilder. Who the hell are you and why are you giving my kid candy?”
Chapter Two
Jeb had known where he’d find Wyatt. He’d been grabbing some food from the diner when he’d turned around to discover him gone.
The playground that he’d had built in Elise’s memory was one of Wyatt’s favorite places. His thinking spot. Where he went to feel closer to his mom.
He wondered how Elise would feel about it?
Jeb shook that thought from his mind as he stared down at the woman sitting on Wyatt’s favorite swing.
Sure, the playground was for all the children of Oddity, Colorado. But that swing was Wyatt’s favorite.
And this woman was an adult, not a child.
Although she didn’t seem to realize that as she leaned back and hooked her legs up around the chains, tilting her head so she was staring up at him upside down.
“You don’t look like a Jeb,” she informed him.
“What does a Jeb look like?” he drawled, resisting the urge to order her to sit upright before she fell and hit her head.
Not your woman. Not your problem.
If she was his, she’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble.
“I don’t know. Maybe older. With a bit of a belly. And a hairy chest. Of course, I don’t know if you’ve got a hairy chest.”
And she wasn’t going to find out.
“He doesn’t,” Wyatt said helpfully.
“Cool. Cool.”
“Could you sit up?” he snapped.
“I could. But this is fun. Hey, small man-child, want to try this?”
“I would if you’d get off my swing,” Wyatt grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, I forgot we have to rock, paper, scissors it,” she said, straightening.
Rock, paper, scissors it?
“The two of you don’t really look alike but you definitely stand the same way, huh?” she said, turning so she straddled the swing and could watch them both.
Jeb glanced over at Wyatt to find him frowning with his arms crossed over his chest and his feet planted wide. They were even dressed the same in jeans and button-up shirts.
Jeb frowned and moved around to where his son stood, taking in the girl properly.