Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
My six-year-old niece is the apple of my eye, and I love her more than just about anything.
“Hello, baby bird,” I say as I kiss her head.
“I’m happy to see you,” she replies and lays her cheek against mine. She’s done that since she was a tiny baby, and it squeezes my heart.
“I’m happy to see you, too. Did you go for a ride on one of the horses?”
A car door slams, then the rumble of a motorcycle engine comes to a stop, but I don’t look up. I’m enjoying these cuddles from my sweet girl and soaking her in.
“Yeah, we took a ride. Next time, you should come, too.”
I hate just about everything about farm life, except for the horses. I love being near and on the big animals.
“Next time,” I agree softly and hug her closer. I didn’t realize until just this minute how much I needed to be snuggled.
It doesn’t happen very often.
“Are you okay?” Birdie whispers in my ear, making me smile.
“I’m so much better now that you’re cuddling me,” I reply with a whisper of my own. My girl sighs happily and settles in against me, so I kiss her some more.
“How are you feeling?”
I open my eyes and look up to find all four of my brothers—that was Brooks’s motorcycle that pulled in—watching me with concerned eyes.
“I’m great,” I reply, offering them all a smile. “Really. All is well.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re clinging to my daughter like she’s a lifeline,” Bridger says, and I notice movement out of the corner of my eye when Connor sits next to Skyla.
That must have been the car door I heard.
“I just needed some snuggles, okay? I don’t get them often, and no one snuggles like this girl.” I kiss her cheek, and she smiles at me.
“Did you get hurt?” She presses her hand against my cheek as her face falls into a worried scowl.
“No, baby. Your daddy and uncles are just super nosy.” I brush my nose over hers, making her giggle. “You don’t need to worry about a thing. Ever. Now, what are you making us for dinner?”
“It’s taco night,” she exclaims. “And I’m grating the cheese.”
“Yum.”
“Come on,” Dani says, standing and holding her hand out for Birdie’s. “Let’s go get dinner started.”
Birdie gives me one more squeeze, then she climbs off my lap and follows Dani, Bridger and Blake inside. Beckett winks at me before taking Skyla’s hand and following the others.
“I haven’t seen you yet,” Brooks says. He pulls me up and into his arms, squeezing me hard.
I feel Connor’s gaze on me, but I don’t look his way because this hug is making me emotional.
Brooks is the oldest of us, and I’m the baby. And although all of my brothers have always been my protectors, Brooks takes that role the most seriously.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is gruff. He smells a bit like motor oil, thanks to his auto repair shop, and fresh air, thanks to riding on his bike.
“Stop.” I shake my head and pat him on the chest. “Seriously, I feel fine. Maybe a little hungry, but there are tacos inside, and I’m always hungry whenever anyone mentions Mexican food. As evidenced by my hips.”
I think I hear Connor growl behind me, and Brooks pulls back.
“Don’t you ever put yourself in that kind of a position again, little girl.” He’s glaring at me, but I know it’s a front.
He was scared. Brooks is rarely scared, but when he turned up last Sunday, I saw true fear in his eyes. It took Blake and me about thirty minutes to reassure him that I was okay.
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Because it was my fault. But don’t worry, I’m never drinking alcohol again. Just the thought of it makes me want to toss cookies.”
Brooks shifts his gaze to Connor. “Thanks again.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” the man replies, speaking for the first time since he arrived.
“We both know that’s not true,” Brooks replies before turning and walking inside, leaving me alone on the porch with a certain sexy Irishman.
“Well, that went better than I thought it would. They all hover. It’s the side effect of being the youngest out of a bunch of boys.” I lower my butt to the chair across from Connor and rub my hands up and down my thighs. His gaze moves down my body, over my pink tank top, my simple denim wide-leg capris, to my sandal-covered feet. And when those green orbs return to my face, there’s heat in them.
Christ, he’s beautiful. He’s in jeans himself and a plain black T-shirt that shows off the defined muscles of his biceps, which always sends my lady bits into overdrive. Every time he’s dressed casually, it’s a punch to the gut.
His dark hair is tousled, his chiseled jaw covered in a light stubble, and I wonder if he slept well last night.