Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Shaking my thoughts away, I concentrate on the sweet little girl in front of me. “I thought I’d fix some breakfast for your momma and you,” I say softly as she walks over to the island. She climbs up onto a barstool but doesn’t stop there. She keeps going until she’s sitting on the island. Tinny does it with practiced ease, so I know it’s something she does often. The thought makes my lips twitch.
“Can I help you?” she asks, all signs of sleep disappearing with her eagerness.
“How are you at scrambling eggs?”
Her eyes go round. “I break them sometimes with Mommy or Aunt Iva.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” she replies, but quickly wrinkles up her nose. “I get shells in them, though.”
“That’s okay. We can always get those out.”
“We can?” she exclaims.
“Yep. I have a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?” she asks, her eyes big like saucers, like she thinks I’m going to turn into Batman and grab a gadget from my belt that will blast the eggshells away from the bowl. Instead, I open a drawer and pull out a teaspoon and wave it around like a sword. She frowns, clearly disappointed. “Bwaker,” she chastises, changing the sound of the ‘R’ in my name. It always makes me smile. It’s something she’s started this week as she’s felt more comfortable with me, and it never fails to make my heart squeeze in my chest. I’m not ashamed to admit this little girl has me wrapped around her finger. “That’s just a spoon.”
“It is, but it will work like magic,” I promise her.
“You’re silly,” she laughs.
I pull a chair closer to me, then reach out my hands. Tinny trustingly moves into them and I have to admit I like that, too. Yep, Mother and daughter have me completely wrapped up. “You can stand here and break the eggs in this bowl. If we get eggshells in after you break one, I’ll get it out and you can break more. Sound good?”
“It might take a lot of eggs cause my mommy likes to eat a lot.”
“I do not!” Indy huffs from the door. She’s trying to sound outraged, but she’s fighting a smile that totally ruins the effect. “I’m going to get you!” she holds her hands, so they look like claws, and starts stalking her daughter.
Tinny begins giggling crazily and before I realize it, jumps into me. I catch her quickly, completely shocked, as her little hands wrap around my neck. “Save me, Bwaker! Don’t let Mommy tickle me!”
“You better stop, Mommy!” I fake growl. “I have a secret weapon!”
I see the surprise on Indy’s face, but I also see how happy she is. “What is this secret weapon?” she asks, narrowing her eyes as she stares at us.
“A magic spoon!” Tinny cries out, sounding victorious—which in turn, makes me laugh. She holds onto me tighter and I can feel her happiness.
Indy puts a hand on each side of her face as if she’s filled with shock and fear. “A magic spoon? I’m scared of magic spoons!”
“You are?” Tinny asks.
“I am! Who will save me from the magic spoon?”
Tinny looks up at me and then back at her mom. I already know what’s coming, so when she tries to jump into her mother’s arms, I steady her lower body until Indy has a firm hold on her. “Don’t worry, Mommy! I’ll protect you. Bwaker loves me. He won’t hurt you if I tell him not to.”
I watch the two of them closely, surprised, but happy. I can see the surprise on Indy’s face. It’s as if she’s afraid to move. “I do love you, Tinny,” I say before Indy can say something that might make her daughter doubt me.
“I know that Bwaker. You always play with me and hug me.”
“He does?” Indy asks, and I rub the side of my face, scratching my beard in thought because I’m unsure of how Indy will react to the knowledge that I’ve been spending a lot of time with her daughter. It’s not that I’ve tried to keep it a secret—I haven’t. I just have been so busy fighting down my need for Indy that I always left before Indy got off work. I’m actually a little surprised Iva or Tinny herself haven’t mentioned our time together to her.
“Sure, Mommy. We play puzzles and color while Aunt Iva catches up on work in your office. We have fun.”
“I bet you do,” she says, and slowly her smile completely returns. “What are you guys doing this morning?” She asks her daughter the question, but she looks over her daughter’s head to smile at me, her eyes twinkling. It could be wishful thinking, but I can almost see happiness in her eyes—or maybe something deeper.
“Bwaker is making us food! I’m going to help! I get to do the eggs. I told him about the eggshells, but he’s going to use his magic spoon to get rid of them!”