Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“You know you don’t have to buy me things though, right?” She follows behind me, down the hall, and into her—my—room.
“I know.” I drop the bags unceremoniously onto the floor. “I didn’t do it because I had to, I did it because I wanted to.”
She tries to scowl at me, but the way her lips keep shaking tells me she’s fighting a smile.
Honestly, it was a no-brainer to fill the cart with the things she liked at Target, and once she’s a little farther along in her pregnancy, I’ll gladly do it all over again.
I’m not wealthy by any stretch of the word, but I have some savings from my mom’s side of the family along with a nice nest egg, money I’ve just been squirreling away for a rainy day. Money I’m more than happy to spend on Nora, our baby, and the life I hope we can one day build together.
She sighs and flops down onto the bed. “Who knew shopping was so exhausting?”
Laughing, I motion for her to scooch over so I can join her, lying on my back with one arm tucked behind my head.
Nora wastes no time snuggling into me, with her head on my chest. I wrap an arm around her waist, and before I know it, we’re both out cold.
Minutes, or maybe hours later, I wake to the smell of bacon wafting through the house.
Ellis must be home.
I try to fish my phone out of my pocket without waking Nora, but she’s wrapped around me like a damn octopus again, making it an impossible task.
There’s no sunlight shining through the window, though, so we clearly snoozed for a few hours at the very least.
“Nora, you gotta wake up,” I murmur, running my fingers through her sleep-tangled hair. “Ellis is making dinner.”
She throws her leg over mine, mumbling some kind of unintelligible reply as she buries her face into the crook of my neck.
“C’mon, Pip.” I drag my fingers over her ribs, softly tickling her. “Up and at ‘em.”
“But I’m so cozy.” She curls her fingers into the fabric of my shirt. “You’re so warm and soft and smell nice.”
I snort a laugh. If she were to slide her leg a little lower, she’d find out how not soft I am for her.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“You can snuggle me any time, you know that, right? Day or night, you want me to be your living, breathing pillow, all you gotta do is say the word and I’m here.”
“Fine.” She releases my shirt and pushes herself into a seated position. “I’m up, are you happy?”
I lean up and steal a kiss. “With you? Always. Now, let’s go see what Ellis’s got going on in the kitchen.”
But before we can get out of bed, Ellis bangs on the door. “BLTs in five. Wake up or finish boning—either way, this shit isn’t good cold.”
Nora gasps, slapping her palm over her mouth. “He thinks we’re… we’re… having sex!”
I shrug. “He also said wake up, so maybe he thinks we’re sleeping.”
“We were sleeping!” Her wide eyes and pink cheeks are a sight to behold.
“So, then, nothing to worry about, right?” I force myself out of the bed and then extend a hand her way to help her out, too.
She glares but takes my hand all the same.
“Good evening, love birds,” Ellis says as we enter the kitchen. “For your dining pleasure, I’ve prepared BLTs on wheatberry with a side of Lay’s finest potato chips.” He slides two plates our way with all the flourish of a three-star chef. “Bon appétit.”
Nora laughs at Ellis’s antics as she eagerly bites into her sandwich, her earlier embarrassment long forgotten. “Oh, wow. This is good.”
“It’s my secret sauce.” Ellis winks.
I make a pfft sound. “It’s garlic aioli.”
“Which I made myself!” he shouts, sending a glare my way. “From scratch!”
“Whatever it is, it’s delicious.” Nora emphasizes her declaration with another big bite, moaning happily as she chews.
“Thank you, Nora. You’re my new favorite.”
She grins at him and then sticks her tongue out at me. Little brat. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
“Are we watching anything tonight?” Ellis asks, smoothly—and wisely—changing the subject.
I shrug, content to let Nora decide.
“We can, but nothing too long. Atlas wore me out today and I’m tired.”
“Did he now?” Ellis grins, holding his hand my way for a high-five.
“At Target,” I clarify, pointedly ignoring his outstretched palm.
“Right.” He snickers to himself. “Before we watch whatever, do y’all mind if I check the news? There’s something I want to see.”
“I don’t mind,” I say, turning to Nora. “Do you?”
“Go for it.” She stands from her barstool. “Why don’t y’all go on and I’ll load our plates into the dishwasher.”
“Are you sure?” For some reason, I hate the thought of her doing any kind of housework. Probably because my dad all but forced her into servitude.