Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I didn’t know that.
“Then, Mom went into politics, and we couldn’t go anymore. I loved going with him. It was the only time that it was just the two of us out doing something together. My dad was an attorney, so he worked long hours, but we went to a game at least twice a month.”
“Did you watch together on TV once you couldn’t go in person anymore?” Willow asks, and Lena shakes her head.
“Nah. Things got busy for them after that. Lots of politicking.” She sips her wine, and I dish up a big slice of lasagna for her—she needs to soak up some of that wine—and she takes a big bite. “I don’t really know my parents all that well, when I think about it. God, this is so good.”
Ryker frowns. “What do you mean?”
“The lasagna is delicious.”
“Not that, sweet girl—what do you mean about not knowing your parents?”
I glare at him. Call my woman by anything other than her name again, jackass.
He just smirks again.
“After the age of about ten, maybe eleven, I hardly saw them. I had nannies. I heard my mom talking to a friend of hers once. She said that they didn’t mean to have a kid, but it worked out because it looked better for her on the campaign trail. More relatable to voters and such. It really helped her family values platform.”
Willow gasps and Ryker scowls, all humor long gone from his face.
I want to punch a fucking wall.
“Please don’t misunderstand. I have a ton of privilege, and really no room to complain. They love me the best they can. Dad was the softer one, the one who liked to spend time with me, but then things got really crazy.”
“Your parents pretty much neglected you for all intents and purposes,” I reply, shaking my head. “If they hadn’t been wealthy and provided a nanny, CPS likely would have been called on them at some point.”
“Maybe they would have paid attention if Mom hadn’t decided to go into politics,” she murmurs with a shrug. “We’ll never know. They’re not bad people. Just bad parents. They love me in their way. They just don’t love to be inconvenienced by me, so I’m sure that this whole situation is really irritating the hell out of my mom. But when I was small, and Dad took me to those games . . . those might have been some of my favorite memories. So I probably saw you play at some point.”
“It’s very possible,” Ryker says with a wink. “Do you enjoy sports now?”
“Um. Sure?”
The mood lifts with the laughter from her response, and I lean over to kiss her cheek. She’s so precious. So fucking sweet. How anyone could ever ignore her is a mystery to me. Even all those years ago, when our relationship was strictly professional, it was impossible to ignore her. But her parents?
You come from far worse. Don’t forget that.
“It’s official,” Willow says. “All four of us came from people who weren’t great parents. But I think we all turned out pretty fucking fantastic.”
Lena blinks in surprise, and then she turns to Willow, and I can see that she’s about to change the subject. “What’s the spiciest book you’ve ever narrated?”
“Oh, there have been some doozies.” Willow thinks about it and then glances at Ryker and me. “I’ll have to tell you about it when they’re not listening.”
“Deal.”
When I wake up the next morning, the bedroom still cast in darkness, Lena isn’t in bed with me.
Part of me panics. Did someone get into my house, through all my security, and take her while I was sleeping?
Unlikely.
But I don’t like that she’s gone, and I have no idea where she is.
I tug on some sweats and a T-shirt, throw on a flannel over that, and start searching the house. She’s nowhere upstairs.
The downstairs is quiet, too, and then I notice that the back door is unlocked.
Before I can freak out, I find her.
My girl is bundled up in blankets, and it’s snowing.
She’s sitting in the snow.
I shove my feet in boots and step outside, and Lena tips her head back, letting the flakes fall on her gorgeous face.
“It’s the first snow,” she says softly. “And I didn’t want to miss it.”
“Baby, it’s too cold.”
“Come here, I have blankets.” She holds her arms out, opening up the blankets, and I pick her up, sit on a snow-covered outdoor chair, and cuddle her in my lap. “Now you’re going to get wet.”
“I want to take you inside where it’s warm, but I have a feeling you’ll fight me on that.”
“Can we sit out here for just a little while?” Her voice is soft in the stillness of the snow falling around us. “It’s so pretty.”
“You do know that you can watch this from literally any window in the house.”