Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Ha.
His groan and the way he reached for the shower knob said we were finally on the same page. “There’s no way something is actually wrong. She’s just being a menace but I probably shouldn’t say anything rude just in case.”
I would.
“Someone had better be in the emergency room for this level of crazy.” I might not have been the nicest person but his laughter as I headed out of the bathroom said he didn’t mind. “Don’t get distracted and leave me to deal with her alone. She’ll think you’re dead or locked in a closet somewhere.”
His groan echoed out of the bathroom as I headed into the hallway. “That closet thing wasn’t my fault.”
She was definitely going to know he was in my bedroom.
God.
I’d managed to look frustrated and confused as I got to the front door, but I just hoped I could keep up the act. Bitching at her wouldn’t help and I had to keep on my toes or she’d get in. I’d seen it in action and I wasn’t going to be another moron who fell for her routine.
“Francesca?” Confused. Bored. Mild concern. “Is someone sick? In the hospital?”
My questions had her going still and stopping halfway up the stairs. “No.”
While she was slightly off center, I kept going. “Then what’s going on? I thought someone was breaking in and then I realized I had a visitor. I’m glad I didn’t call the police.”
It wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened to her, so I wasn’t worried. They always let her go fairly quickly because they didn’t want to deal with her either.
“I got a call that Orlando stayed over.” Narrowing her gaze at me, she finally finished walking up to the porch. “Is he sick? Did you get him drunk?”
Her shame-filled tone had me fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “First of all, how old do you think he is? You should be the one in the family who knows he’s old enough to drink.”
I wasn’t robbing the cradle…just talking him into trying diapers and onesies.
Huffing, she ignored my digs and crossed her arms over her chest. “Where is my son?”
Hopefully out of the shower.
“Francesca, it’s seven in the morning. Seven.” When she didn’t look ashamed at all, I decided being polite was going to get me nowhere. I wasn’t Terrence who thought fucking with them was fun. “This isn’t appropriate and I’m not having this conversation with you.”
She just charged right back in and actually tried to slip around me and get in the house.
Fucking ridiculous, but I was faster than she was and shifted to block the doorway. She wasn’t going to let that stop her, though. “I need to check on Orlando. He didn’t answer his phone.”
“How many times have you called him this morning?” When that actually made her blink, I knew it would be an insane number. “From now on, he will not be answering any text messages or calls before eight in the morning or after eight at night. If there is an emergency, you will call me and I’ll let him know there is a problem.”
I was not one of her wussy-ass relatives and stood my ground as she glared at me, clearly expecting me to crumble.
Maybe that look only worked on men who liked women in some way?
I was way too gay to be affected if it was and entirely too patient for her games. It only took about a minute for her to break. “This isn’t appropriate. Just because he lives next door doesn’t mean you get to control his life.”
Did she think she was the one who got to control his life?
“Think of me as another Aunt Jessica.” Ha. That had her sucking in a breath. “If you want access to Orlando, it will be appropriate, and it will go through me.”
That woman was a battle ax who’d been raised from birth to stand up to bulldozers. She was only thirty and had every woman in the family on edge.
Hmm.
Maybe Harry had actually found a Domme?
“But Orlando.” Shaking her head, she tried to regroup. “He’s—”
“Mine and if we have a problem with that, I’ll teach every man in this family how to find their…fortitude.” I really didn’t need to be saying balls to Orlando’s mother…not after I’d claimed him. “I’m sure Jessica could give me some pointers.”
I wasn’t sure what had gone down at that spa day but all the other women winced every time it came up.
“Fine.” Looking slightly less like a pirate ready to storm my boat, she looked around me into the house. “But he’s alright, isn’t he? He had a lot of pasta last night. You know what that does to his stomach.”
Nothing.
It did nothing to his stomach.
The brat was allergic to pomegranates, not pasta.
“He’s fine.” But he was going to be in trouble because I could hear him hiding in the hallway, probably just out of sight. “He will text you later at a more reasonable hour, or if you would like a phone call he can do that closer to lunch.”