Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Ever tugs on her uncle’s hand but looks at me. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Crew picks her up and sits her on his shoulders. Ever looks down at me from her perch, her little blue eyes sparkling.
“Mommy’s being hardheaded, Ever. No worries.” His eyes never leave mine, his face blank.
“Damn it, Crew,” I whisper low enough that only he can hear.
“No, she’s not,” Ever says. “She’s taking me to the park. Will you come with us?”
“Uncle Crew doesn’t want to come to the park. He has things to do, baby girl.” I reach for her. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“No.” She pouts, pulling away from me. “I want Uncle Crew to come, too. Don’t be a hard head, Mommy.”
“Ever—” I warn, but Crew cuts me off.
“Ah, monkey. I shouldn’t have said that.” He watches me, his eyes twinkling now, too. Mischief has always made him happy. “Mommy’s just trying to make sure I have things to occupy my time.”
I glare at him and he laughs.
“Like what?” Everleigh asks, confused.
“Like not giving me papers that she finds.”
“Like the one on the door?”
I groan, praying my daughter keeps her mouth shut.
Crew nods his head slowly, a shit-eating grin sliding across his face. “What do you know about a note on the door, Ever?”
“Mommy got a note on the door yesterday. And she said she couldn’t let you see it. I heard her.”
“Everleigh, be quiet.”
“Did she now?” Crew lifts my daughter off his shoulders and cradles her in his arms.
“Tell ya what, monkey. I’ll give you a dollar every time you tell me you see one of those little notes on the door. Okay?”
“Okay,” she says. She looks up at him with so much adoration it almost slays me.
“Crew . . .”
He looks up as I say his name. We watch each other, feeling each other out. I want to argue with him, make him go get his money so I can pay my own rent. But I can’t, partly because there’s something in his eye that makes the words not come out of my mouth. And partly because, as much as I hate to admit it, it will take a huge burden off me.
I sigh and look towards the sky.
“Can we go to the park now?” Ever asks.
I look down at her. She looks so small in Crew’s arms.
Only yesterday, it seems, she was a baby. “Come on.” I reach for her.
Crew twists her up to his shoulders in one smooth movement. His grin reminds me of the Crew I used to know a long time ago.
“Wanna ride on my shoulders, monkey?”
Ever cheers, raising her arms over her head in victory.
“You don’t have to do this.” I take a step away from him. I’m not sure what he’s doing. Crew doesn’t go places with us.
I don’t let him.
He doesn’t want to.
“I believe I was invited by my niece to go to the park. If you don’t want to come, go home.” He shrugs and starts off down the sidewalk.
I watch them walk away, my daughter’s giggles flowing through the air like a pretty song. It warms my heart. But the sight of Crew with her doesn’t.
The closer they get will just cause her to get hurt more in the end. He’s in a prime position to make her life better or destroy her and I can’t control the way it falls.
I force my feet to move and follow them down the sidewalk and into the park. Crew squats down and lets Ever climb off. She makes a beeline to an open swing and pushes off, pumping her little legs as her hair flies behind her. Crew leans against a tree nearby and watches.
I take a deep breath and stand next to him. The corner of his lips twitch as he waits for me to break the ice.
He can wait all day.
I cross my arms over my chest and ignore him.
He chuckles and pushes away from the tree, standing straight. He isn’t as tall as Gage was, but still several inches taller than I am.
“If you don’t wanna be here, I’ll bring her home.” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, just watches Ever play.
“Of course I want to be here. I can’t understand why you want to be though.”
He lets his teeth graze over his bottom lip. He turns to face me. His eyes are narrowed and I can tell he’s thinking about how to reply.
“It’s time I man up.”
I bite back a laugh. “Really? You just woke up this morning and thought, ‘Ah, I think I’ll take my niece to the park today’?”
“Something like that.”
“We’ve made it without you coming to the park with us for a long time. Feel free to leave.”
He turns to me and I take a step back. I’ve seen this look a few times and I know by the way his eyes have darkened—he’s itching for an argument.