Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 73824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Two women, to be exact. And one of them was not very happy with me.
“You,” Lennox hissed, pointing down to her pants that now had a huge stain on them from the ketchup covered French fry that my daughter had thrown.
It was in a very precarious spot, as well, looking to be as if she’d had a rather unfortunate accident.
I opened my mouth to apologize once again when the next thing that came out of her mouth had me snapping it right shut again.
“You did this, you awful, awful man!” She declared loudly.
The other girl that was in the booth with her, a beautiful brunette that looked somewhat familiar said, “Here!”
Then proceeded to slap a wet napkin on Lennox’s pants and rub at her crotch furiously.
But after an embarrassing minute of everyone watching the girl go to town on her pants with relish, she leaned back in dismay. “Well, that won’t come out. You’re going to have to dry clean them and pray.”
Lennox, flustered beyond belief, started to fume.
I could see why she was upset.
Now instead of a small red stain, she had a large red stain. One that took up both legs and looked even more authentic, if you catch my drift.
“I’m sorry,” my daughter’s apologetic cry underneath my arm had us both looking down at her, teary eyed and full of shit.
Reagan was a fucking pro, and she’d learned every single bit of it from her cousin and my sister.
The masters.
Lennox’s eyes dimmed in their anger as she looked down at my demon spawn.
“You’re sorry for what, sweetheart?” She asked, leaning down until she was face to face with Reagan.
“I threw the fry at you and I’m very sorry that I did it. Those were beautiful pants, and I’ll use my Tooth Fairy money to buy you new ones,” she whispered.
Oh, she was laying it on thick.
She didn’t have any tooth fairy money. Nor did she have any intention of paying for anything.
In fact, she’d done way worse and hadn’t given a shit before, so I was wondering what she was playing at.
Then Harleigh, the spawn of Satan, poked her little nose into the mix.
Harleigh was Max and Payton’s eldest child, and you’d never know that she was born nearly four months premature.
She was just as big as Reagan was, and had an attitude as wide as the day was long.
I didn’t know how Max could put up with all that was Harleigh. Then to add his wife, my so called sister, into the mix…well, let’s just say that it wasn’t fair to the man and leave it at that.
“You have beautiful hair, ma’am!” Harleigh said in her syrupy sweet, southern accent.
Lennox fucking melted under the little hands of two eight year olds.
My God, but she didn’t even look mad anymore!
Clearly I was using their powers of persuasion for all the wrong things!
“I’m here, now let’s get this party started!” A loud, very obviously gay man, announced loudly.
He had a gift bag in one hand, and a cake box in the other, eyes on the scene in front of him.
When Lennox turned around to confront the newcomer, his eyes swept the length of her, and stalled on her crotch.
“Wow,” the man said. “What’s going on with your vagina?”
Lennox growled at him in warning, causing me to nearly laugh.
Yet, I somehow held it in, which was a good thing seeing as she turned around in a whirlwind of brown hair and anger.
“Let me have your shirt!” She ordered, gesturing to my chest.
I looked down at my KPD polo, and then shook my head. “No way. I’m not wearing anything underneath this.”
She hissed, then her eyes lit on my KPD windbreaker that was lying on the seat of the booth, and she snatched it greedily before wrapping it around her shoulders.
It swallowed her.
In fact, it looked like a nightgown. Yet, I guess I could see why she’d need it. I wouldn’t want to walk around with that, either.
Once she had the jacket zipped up, she looked back at me smugly.
“I’ll get it back to you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”
I shrugged.
I had two more of them at home, so it was no skin off my nose.
She could’ve at least asked, though.
“Whatever,” I said, turning back around and taking my seat once again.
The girls moved around as well, reclaiming their seat and looking quite contrite.
“Daddy, I…” I held my hand up before Reagan could finish her sentence.
“Not another word. Eat your food and we’ll be leaving. Not another word,” I snapped.
Reagan scrunched her nose up but, nonetheless, started eating, and I was grateful.
I loved her to death, but there were times when she was extremely trying.
Reagan had been born when I was seventeen.
She’d never had a mother figure other than her Aunt Payton and my mother, and had always gotten anything she’d ever wanted. She was a spoiled brat, and I had no one to blame but myself.
As I finished my steak, wondering why the hell I’d said yes to watching Harleigh on my only night off this week, and then had made the second mistake of taking the two of them to their favorite restaurant, I studied my girl.
She was the spitting image of her mother.
Which was nauseating at times.
Corrinne, Reagan’s mother, was the first love of my life.
I’d thought we had something good until, one day, I’d gone to a party looking for her, and found her passed out with two guys that had been in the process of trying to take advantage of her and another girl.
Yet, what I didn’t know, at the time, was that Corrinne had been part of the act, and had been fully aware the whole time.
She was just one hell of an actress.
When my sister had tried to take her to the hospital and get her to report what had happened to the police, her conscience had gotten the best of her, and she’d explained what had really happened.
After I’d found out, I’d broken up with her, but there’d be one tiny detail that would bring us back together and force us to make nice when I wanted nothing to do with her.