Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He nodded, his expression softening. He gestured to an empty seat. “Sit.”
I shook my head. “I really shouldn’t.”
“Sit,” he demanded again.
Conceding, I took the seat across from Effie and watched as Evan walked over and plated some of whatever he’d made. It smelled savory, maybe even a hint of thyme or rosemary.
When he placed the large bowl in front of me, I realized it was beef stew. I took a whiff. “Smells good. Thank you.”
“It’s one of three things my dad makes the most,” Effie said. “Beef stew, spaghetti, and chicken tenders.”
“Well, that would be three more things than my dad ever knew how to cook.” I blew on the stew and took a bite. “This is remarkably good.” I licked my lips. “Fresh thyme, huh?” I winked. “You’ve come a long way from only knowing how to toast Pop-Tarts.”
He shrugged. “I try.”
Effie interrupted my staring into Evan’s painfully gorgeous brown eyes when she turned to me. “Can you French braid?”
“Effie,” he scolded.
I set my spoon down. “Probably not that well. But I could try.”
“I told my friend we could match tomorrow. She’s wearing her hair in a French braid, and Daddy doesn’t know how to do it.” She frowned. “But my dance teacher wants us all to have French braids at the recital later this year, too. So he has to learn. I don’t have eyes at the back of my head, or else I’d do it.”
This poor girl shouldn’t have to think about doing it herself, even if she had the ability. Where the hell was her mother? I hadn’t dared ask yet, and no one had offered the information, but I was getting the impression that maybe Evan had full custody.
“You need your hair braided tonight?” I asked.
She shook her head. “In the morning. I don’t want to sleep on it and mess it up.”
“We can figure it out,” I assured her.
A quick glance at Evan’s expression confirmed that he wasn’t too comfortable with my promise. But how could I say no to this sweet little girl?
I quietly scooped a few more spoonfuls of stew into my mouth as they watched.
“What was my dad like when he was younger?” Effie asked, leaning into the table.
Licking stew off the corner of my mouth, I smirked. “He wasn’t as grumpy.”
Evan glared at me with a hint of a smile.
“You said you were twelve when he moved in with your family?” she asked.
“Yup.”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “She was a little pip squeak when I first moved in. Just like you are now, Effie.”
A little pip squeak who was obsessed with you from the get-go, sadly.
“How long did you live there?” she asked him.
“Well, as I’ve told you before, I moved in when your grandma got sick, but then I went into the Army for four years, remember? So I was gone for a while before I moved back in.”
She looked to me. “And how old were you when he went away to the Army?”
I rubbed my palms together. “Well, let’s see how good you are at math. If I was twelve when he moved in, but he went to the military a year later, that would make me how old when he first left?”
She stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “Thirteen.”
“Very good.” I grinned. “And if he was gone for four years, how old was I when he came back?”
“Seventeen!” she happily shouted.
I laughed. “And if he was eighteen when he left for the Army and came back four years later, how old was he when he returned?”
Her eyes moved from side to side. “Twenty-two.”
“You’re amazing at math.” I winked.
“You said my dad is five years older than you. If Daddy is thirty-four now, you’re twenty-nine, Chloe. You’re almost thirty!”
“I am?” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Thank you for the reminder.”
She turned to Evan again. “Was she still a little pip squeak when you came back?”
He shook his head. “Not in the least,” he murmured.
I felt my cheeks heat as his eyes met mine. I shoveled some more stew into my mouth to distract from the fact that I was probably blushing. But it only got worse when she asked her next question.
Effie looked straight at me. “Were you ever boyfriend and girlfriend?”
My heart began to race. “No.” I looked down at my bowl.
She pushed. “Did you ever like him?”
I answered as neutrally as I could. “He was nice.”
Thankfully, she changed the subject.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
“One sister,” I answered.
“What’s her name?” Effie prodded.
“Fawn.”
She giggled. “That’s a funny name.”
“I think so, too. But she was named after my grandma.”
Effie’s lips parted. “I was named after my great-grandma!” she said.
“Really?”
“On her mother’s side,” Evan clarified.
“Her name was Euphemia,” Effie explained. “It’s Greek. But I like Effie for short better.”
“Effie is a very cool name.” I smiled.