Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
These two…
They really are the sweetest little goofballs. Aside from getting soaked in cranberry juice when Ava made Bella laugh mid-drink, and the unexpected ball rescue mission, my first day has been a breeze. I’ve had so much fun with the girls and eaten healthy, regular meals for the first time in ages. I even had a full ninety minutes to myself during naptime to practice bass and read a book that I’ve been trying to finish for months.
If things continue to go this smoothly, I might ask Dean if it would be okay to set my sewing machine up by the desk in the living room. I could get half a pantsuit made during naptime, and still be right downstairs if the girls got up early or needed me for some reason.
Dean…
I’ve barely seen him today, just a quick “hello and goodbye” on his way out the door this morning to hit the gym before practice. But damn, he looked good. He was wearing one of those yummy, skintight, long-sleeved workout shirts and gray sweatpants that just…
Well, let’s just say that “catching print” was not difficult. At all. I mean, I would have had to try hard to avoid catching it.
And I didn’t try. Not even a little bit.
My eyeballs zoomed right in on that delicious lump while my thoughts dove happily back into the deep end of the smut pool, from whence I had just pulled them not twenty minutes before. Because yes, I had another kinky sex dream about my boss. This time Dean was a soldier from another kingdom who’d captured me behind enemy lines and was “torturing” information out of me with orgasms.
Orgasms on his tongue.
On his fingers.
On that long, thick, oh-so-skilled—
“Are you still alive?” Ava calls out. “You’ve been quiet for a long time, Clover.”
That’s because I was thinking about your dad’s penis, Ava, I think to myself, a thing I obviously don’t say aloud.
“Yes, honey, I’m fine. Just…concentrating.” I reach out, trying—and failing—to get a hand around the slick orb. “The ball landed in a puddle, and it’s all wet. I’m having a hard time getting a hold of it.”
“Ew! Yucky!” Bella cries. “Is it a big muddy puddle?”
“Not that big,” I say. “But plenty muddy.” I reach for it again, cursing beneath my breath as it slips away, floating to the far side of the small pool of water. “I’m going to have to get closer and go in with two hands.”
“Be careful!” Bella cries. “Be very, very careful!”
Ava huffs again, and I can practically hear the eye roll in her voice as she says, “A muddy puddle isn’t going to hurt her, Bella. The worstest that can happen is her fingers get wet.”
She’s right.
That’s the worstest that can happen.
Should have been the worstest that could have happened, anyway. But somehow, I come up onto my knees at the wrong angle, get thrown off-balance as I reach for the ball, and end up pitching forward with a grunt, scratching the bottom of my chin on a chunk of dead shrub before chest-flopping into the middle of the puddle.
“Ugh!” I cry out, full-body cringing as water soaks through my sweatshirt.
“Oh no!” Bella cries out. “She’s hurted! Clover’s hurted!”
“Clover, are you okay?” Ava calls, sounding worried now, too.
“I’m fine, guys. I’m fine,” I rush to assure them.
“We heard you make a hurted sound,” Bella says.
“I know, but I’m fine, I promise, I just…” I spit out mud as I rise from the puddle, clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. “I just slipped and got wet. But I’ve got the ball, and I’m on my way back now.”
“Okay, good,” Ava says. “The clouds are starting to look scary up there. I think there might be thunder soon.”
I frown as I grab the ball, cursing it silently as I tuck it under one arm. “Really? It wasn’t supposed to rain today. I checked the weather forecast twice.”
“The weather forecast is shitty now,” Ava says matter-of-factly, making me snort with laughter. Again. These two crack me up constantly. They deserve a comedy special on Netflix. Maybe two.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that word, Ava,” I say, quickly realizing I can’t crawl while holding the ball. I shift to rolling it ahead of me through the hedge as I start toward the yard.
“No, it’s okay when it’s about the weather,” she replies. “Because it’s the truth. Daddy says it all the time. And Miss Maybelline does, too. She says it’s because the government is shit, too, and spends money on dumb things instead of making sure the weather is right.” She sighs before adding in a southern accent that’s a dead ringer for their elderly neighbor, the one I met earlier while Bella and Ava were having “petting Edgar” time, “The world’s gone nuttier than a five-pound fruitcake.”