Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
His gaze swept the room, and he arched a brow. “It’s busy as fuck, Sunshine.”
“Good point.”
He lifted a white paper bag. “I brought you a vanilla shake with extra fries.”
“See,” Lorna squealed. “You don’t need to worry about getting the shakes you like when you move here. Saxon is ten steps ahead of your cravings.”
He leaned down to brush his lips over my temple, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “I like keeping my girl and our kid happy.”
“Then you need to figure out which house on my street you want to buy and make an offer the owners can’t refuse,” Lorna suggested.
Saxon grinned down at me. “Is that what you want, Sunshine?”
“Yeah.”
And it was exactly what I got when two months later, during the team’s bye week, we moved into a house three doors down from Cole and Lorna.
EPILOGUE
SAXON
“Ican’t eat any more,” Rose groaned dramatically.
Our six-year-old daughter had perfected that tone when she was two.
She slumped in her seat across the table and looked at me with big brown eyes, blinking them innocently.
I heard a muffled laugh next to me and shot Ivy a disgruntled frown. Shoulders shaking, she quickly turned to the high chair where Cameron, our one-year-old son, was waving his hands wildly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, demanding his next bite. Her shoulders shook silently, and I mentally sighed.
My daughter had me wrapped around her little fingers, and we both knew it. Her tears were my fucking kryptonite. It didn’t help that she was a mini version of her mother.
Suck it up, Powell. You’ve taken on 300-pound linebackers. You can handle one little girl.
“You need to eat a little more of your dinner, baby girl,” I told her firmly.
Her lip puffed out, and she pushed her long black hair out of her face. “But…I’m sooooo full.”
“Sooooo full,” Tyler echoed, mimicking his older sister. Something our two-year-old had learned to do much too quickly.
Fucking hell.
“Fine,” I mumbled. “You can both be done.”
I peeked at Ivy to see her slowly shaking her head at me, an exasperated frown on her face. But her eyes were still dancing merrily. “Sucker.”
“I know,” I muttered.
Rose smiled sweetly, melting my heart. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“Why don’t you help Daddy clear the table, Rose?” Ivy suggested, scooping up another spoonful of food for Cameron.
“Okay!” she chirped, hopping down from her chair.
“Me too!” Tyler shouted.
After we cleaned up dinner, Tyler tugged on my sleeve and gave me a wide, cheesy grin. “Dessoit? I ate all my dinnor!”
I chuckled and lifted him into my arms. “Sure, buddy.”
“Dessert?” Rose squealed, suddenly appearing at my side. “Can I have some ice cream?”
I opened my mouth but shut it when Ivy sighed as she walked into the kitchen with Cameron on her hip.
“I thought your stomach was full, Rose.”
“That’s my dinner stomach, Mommy. I’ll put it in my dessert stomach.”
Curious, since she looked so very sincere, I asked, “How many stomachs do you have, baby girl?”
“Four.” Her matter-of-fact tone was almost condescending, as if Ivy and I were completely uneducated for not knowing about her multiple stomachs.
“Four?” I echoed before mashing my lips together to suppress my laughter.
She nodded, all seriousness. “My snack stomach, vegetable stomach, dinner stomach, and dessert stomach.”
Unable to hold it back anymore, I burst into laughter. Tyler giggled, and not one to be left out—despite having no clue what was going on—Cameron cackled.
Ivy smiled and shook her head. “Well, how can I argue with that?”
Rose beamed. “Can I have ice cream?”
“Yeah, baby girl,” I agreed, “I’ll make us all some ice cream.”
She whooped with joy and clapped her hands. “Yay! Thanks, Daddy!”
I set Tyler on his feet and headed for the freezer. Ivy was at the sink when I brought all of the sundae fixings to the counter.
“When did she get old enough to outsmart us?”
“I don’t know,” Ivy murmured. “But we should figure it out before our next daughter is her age.”
I stilled as her words sank in. “Next daughter?”
Ivy grinned and shrugged, then whispered, “Don’t look so surprised, Sax. When you start using a freaking condom, I’ll stop getting pregnant.”
Dropping the ice cream scooper, I turned and pulled my wife into my arms. “Pregnant?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Get that smug look off your face, Powell.”
I tried, but I couldn’t lose the grin.
“Not smug, Sunshine.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “Grateful. Happy. Utterly in love. All those things, thanks to you.”
“Aww,” she sniffled.
My head bent, and I took her mouth in a fierce kiss. “You and our family are everything.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Ivy smiled sweetly. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”