Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
TWELVE
Forest
“You ready to go, Cammy, Piper?” I ask the girls while taking a sip of my morning coffee. Bailey walked through the door a few minutes ago after I texted her asking if she could do the girls’ hair. It caught me off guard when I asked if they wanted a ponytail or a braid this morning and both of them said, “Miss Bailey, she does fun stuff.” I’d like to say that my pride took a hit, but it didn’t. The opposite, actually. It gave me a reprieve and helped us in not being late. Between brushing their hair and getting it to where there’s no bumps require a lot of time.
“I go wif?” Piper asks, coming up to me. Her hair is done in one ponytail on top of her head along with a bow. Bailey must have helped Piper in the clothing department since they match. My little pipsqueak is usually in something mismatched or one of her play dresses.
“You sure are.” I pick Piper up and settle her on my hip. “Cammy, sweetheart, we’ve got to get this show on the road, or you’re going to be late.” I don’t even want to think about how many times that happens when I take the girls to school. The teachers don’t even say a word anymore. Sympathetic glances are thrown my way more than anything. Ignoring them is all I can do.
“I’m right here.” Cammy does a twirl, showing me she’s chosen to wear the maroon polo and khaki skirt with her combat boots. Hendrix has clearly been shopping for her because those have her written all over. “Do you like my hair?” She tosses the long curls over one shoulder, showing me that it’s in a low ponytail. Cammy isn’t a bow person like Piper, but she does like ribbon in the form of accessories.
“You look beautiful. We really do have to go, or we’re going to be late,” I tell her, taking another sip of my coffee, knowing that bringing a ceramic mug in my truck is a recipe for disaster when it comes to carrying Piper to her car seat without spilling it. I’m just placing my mug to the left of the sink on the counter, knowing I’ll be going after more of the dark caffeinated coffee. Sleepless nights seem to be par for the course, and with the meetings I have today while at home, I’m going to need it.
“Thank you. Miss Bailey did it. She’s the best.” Cammy looks over her shoulder, showing that Bailey is in fact the best, even if I’m not allowed to say it. There she stands, the object of my fantasy. Whether it’s while I’m awake or asleep, the beautiful woman follows me everywhere.
“Then I’m assuming you told Miss Bailey thank you?” I question, bending down to put Piper on her feet. I need to grab my phone, wallet, and keys to head out the door.
“Thank you, Miss Bailey.” Cammy darts off into the hallway.
“We’re going to be late. Move it or lose it,” I tell her.
“Backpack.” I roll my eyes. What’s the use of a mudroom with built-in cubbies if no one uses the damn things?
“If you’d put it where it’s supposed to be, it’d be helpful for all of us.” I step into my boots, put everything in my pockets that is necessary, my eyes going to Bailey. She’s standing in the background, wearing a short-sleeve shirt, leggings, and socks once again. The abandoned leather shoes that have two straps over the top of her foot are by the back door.
“I’ll work on that with her after school,” she inputs. I nod, tongue thick with what to say. Even her simple and basic outfit does nothing to curb the desire that’s building inside of me.
“Thanks.” Apparently, every Hughes family member is sharing their gratitude with her this morning. “We’ll be back. Piper, you want a ride, or are you walking to the truck?”
“I wook.” Two-word sentences are better than one. We’ll get there eventually.
“Have a great day at school, Cammy. Piper, show daddy how you help get buckled in, okay?” Bailey walks us out to the garage door to see us off. A look of confusion must be plastered on my face.
“Daddy, I show.” Piper grabs my hand. Three words. Son of a bitch, that’s a great sign.
“Piper learned how to click the top latch of her seatbelt. She can’t click the bottom into place, but she’s close to learning how to press the button.” She stays on the landing, watching, not interfering or offering to help.
“Wow, you all have been busy. We’ll be back,” I tell her over my shoulder as I open the door for Cammy. She climbs in the backseat, hops into her booster, now at the age and height to use the seat with a seatbelt that’s attached to the truck. Piper is on the smaller side, more petite like my mom in stature, so she’s in a three-point harness car seat still.