Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
It was going to shock the hell out of me if the kid was mine, and she knew it. Coming here and not demanding money from me once she had my name and could track me down wouldn’t make sense. Unless this was about the fiancé. He might be rich. I hadn’t taken the time to read the full background check that Wilder had pulled on Branwen. I got as far as the girl’s birth date and did some math. That was the main reason I’d wanted this test. The date of conception was spot-on with the time we’d fucked.
“It’s a test to see if you have more family. If there is someone else who might want to be a part of your life. Or just know about you.” Branwen’s eyes flickered to me briefly, then back to her daughter.
“I got mowah family than you and Hudson?” she asked, her voice going up an octave.
Hudson wasn’t her family. Not yet. Annoyance hit me—that her mother had let her think that he was her family—and I had to unclench my teeth and force myself to calm down. This kid might not be mine. That man was going to be her future stepfather. I had no reason to get pissed off because she thought that he was family.
Branwen bit her bottom lip. “Yes, baby, you do. Family that I couldn’t find before now.”
I held my breath as I narrowed my gaze. My eyes locked on her, as if I could draw out the fucking truth myself. That response sounded an awful lot like she knew who the kid’s father was and had looked for him. For me.
“Let’s get this over with,” I barked.
The little girl jumped, startled by my sharp demand, and her eyes swung up to my face. She studied me through her thick lashes. I rubbed my jaw, wishing I hadn’t been so damn harsh. But, fuck, I wanted to get this done. I was tired of all the what-ifs.
“You got tattoos on youwah fingaws,” she stated, studying my hand.
I dropped it back to my side. “Yeah, I do.”
She pulled her hands free of her mother’s and walked over to me, her attention captured by what she’d seen. “Mommy has a tattoo, but Hudson don’t like it. He said tattoos awah twashy and she’s gonna get hewahs taken off.”
My gaze lifted from the girl to see Branwen looking slightly pale as she stood back up. The tight smile she gave me didn’t meet her eyes.
“Let’s not talk about tattoos, Vivi Lu, okay? Let’s just get this swab done so we can go to the park.”
A faint memory of a tattoo on her body came back to me. It had been on her hip bone. I was pretty sure I’d licked it on my way to eat her pussy. What was it?
“But, Mommy, he’s got thwee fingaws tattooed. I just want to see them.”
Her tone sounded so damn pleading that I found myself fisting my hands so she could see the three tattoos on my fingers. She didn’t ask her mother as she quickly made her way closer to me to look at my ink.
“You like the lettah A?” she asked me, lifting her eyes up to my face.
My lips quirked. “I like those a’s,” I replied. “That’s the ace of spades, ace of diamonds, and ace of clubs,” I told her. Then, I opened my hand and turned it over. The back of my ring finger was the last one. “And that’s the ace of hearts.”
Her eyes widened as she peered at it. “You got fowah on your hand,” she said in awe. Then, her eyes went to my arms. “Awah those chains around youwah awms?”
I nodded. “That they are. Reckon Hudson would think I’m the king of trashy.”
Her eyes darted back up to me, and I winked at her. A small giggle escaped her, and she covered her mouth, then nodded her head in agreement. I almost told her I had more, but then I figured the little curious beauty would want to see those, too, and I didn’t think taking off my shirt would be the appropriate thing to do.
Burl coughed, and I glanced over at him. The we need to do this look in his eyes reminded me why we were here.
I nodded at him to proceed.
He walked over to Stevie and dropped down to his haunches. “All right. I just need to stick this swab in your mouth and rub the inside of your cheek with it. That’s all. You open wide, and it won’t hurt a bit.”
She nodded, then gave him a serious frown. “You pwomise you won’t wub my thwaot with that thing? ’Cause that makes me thwow up and cwy. Don’t it, Mommy?” she said, looking back at her mother for confirmation.
Branwen smiled at her daughter. “Yes, but you aren’t getting tested for strep throat. This will not make you cry.”