Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Weston con: he never fully smiles.
That was something we were going to have to change if we were going to be living together. Sutton and I had a pretty positive vibe going on, and I loved a challenge.
Weston pro: you can help him smile.
I fought a little grin as he passed two sandwiches across the island.
“Thank you,” I said, my mind already tripping over the various ways I could rise to the occasion of making Weston’s life a little easier. After all, I pretty much owed this guy everything. He could have kicked me out this morning. He could have rejected me that night. Could have given the job to someone who had actually been qualified. Instead, he’d opened up a unit in employee housing, signed a three-year contract so his father couldn’t undo what he’d done, and helped me put gas in my car.
And just like Prince Charming, he’d disappeared at midnight. Crap, that was Cinderella…whatever. The result was the same—I hadn’t seen him again until today.
Sutton joined me, and we both bit into our sandwiches at the same time. Oh, forking hell, it was delicious.
“Momitssogood,” Sutton mumbled with her mouth full. I would have absolutely lectured her, but I was too busy scarfing down my own sandwich and nodding.
Weston had that mildly amused smirk tugging at his lips as he constructed his own sandwich. “Any other ground rules you can think of for that list?”
I shook my head and swallowed. “We’re pretty easygoing.” I’d be as easygoing as I needed to be in order to keep my house.
“What about you?” he asked Sutton.
She swallowed and put down her sandwich. “I’ve never had a slumber party.”
My head whipped in her direction. “Not the time.” Mom guilt hit me hard, dragging my heart to the floor.
“Okay?” Weston’s brow knit as he sliced his lunch into neat triangular quarters, clearly not following ten-year-old logic.
“Mom says it’s because we’re lucky to live at the resort, so we can’t just invite a bunch of other girls over because that’s…” She sighed. “Taking advantage of our situation,” she finished in her best impression of me.
Apparently, I needed to work on my mom look, because my child wasn’t even phased by my lowered brows and death-threat eyes.
Weston paused, giving Sutton his full attention. “What are you proposing?”
Sutton glanced my way for all of a millisecond before turning those baby blues on Weston. “I really get to add a rule?”
He nodded.
“I want to be allowed to have a slumber party.”
“Sutton!” I hissed. Tomorrow I would be proud I’d raised a smart, stubborn girl who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. Tomorrow. Not today. Today, I was going to ground her for the rest of her natural-born life. “Forget that she said that.”
He took a massive bite and chewed.
They were locked in an epic stare-down, though his gaze was more curious and hers was stubborn as hell.
Finally, he swallowed. “You want me to overrule your mom? Because I somehow think she’s about to prevent that with her next rule.”
I wrote down, Callie rules all, and showed the notebook to my daughter. This was more than a sore subject, it was raw from how often she poked at it. But living here was a privilege, one I wasn’t about to draw attention to.
“I don’t want you to overrule her. I want you to change the rules for the house.”
“I’m listening.” He cocked his head to the side.
“Your last name is Madigan, right?” Her chin rose a good inch.
“Yep.”
“So, tell Mom it’s okay to have a slumber party.” She took another bite of her sandwich.
She made it sound so blissfully simple.
“You won’t make me paint fingernails or anything? Because I’m absolute crap at arts and crafts,” he said.
She shook her head.
He glanced at me. “No one is going to care if you choose to have a few friends over, but I’m not getting between whatever this”—he gestured between us—“is. My mother taught me way better than that.”
“Mom, please?” Sutton pivoted. “He’s a Madigan, and if he says it’s okay, it has to be, right? Even if it’s just for my birthday?” There was such hope in those eyes that I felt myself caving. “Please? We’ll be so quiet, and you won’t have to do a single thing, I promise. I’ll even clean before and after.”
I relented and wrote, Sutton can have a birthday slumber party.
After all, she was giving up just as much as I was in this awkward arrangement.
“Thank you!” She threw her arms around my neck, nearly falling off her stool in her excitement.
“Only six friends.” I hugged her tight. What was the harm in agreeing if Weston did? Besides, maybe we’d have a house of our own by the time her birthday came next month.
She pulled back and grinned up at Weston. “You’re awesome. Thank you!” Then she shoved the remainder of her sandwich in her mouth and took her plate to the sink before fleeing upstairs.