Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“How’s my baby?” she says, hugging him close. Does she have the same thoughts as I do? Does she know that there’s nothing better in the whole world than having Lennon in your arms?
Will Jake try to take that away from me even though he never wanted our son to begin with?
“I want to make pancakes!” he says, and I laugh. Lennon could live on pancakes with whipped cream. Macaroni and cheese is a close runner-up, but nothing beats pancakes for him. Barb made the mistake of getting him to help mix the batter the other day, and now he insists on helping every time.
Barb starts laughing. “I guess we’re going to have breakfast for dinner. Katie, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Barb repeats, obviously worried.
“You didn’t. I mean, I am upset, but that’s not your fault. I guess I naively thought this day would never happen.”
“You did. If you didn’t, you would have let Lenny continue believing that Jeff was his father.”
“Nanny, I want pancakes!”
“It’s okay, Barb. You’ve held my hand from the beginning. You know I love you as big as the sky.”
She smiles. “I feel the same about you, baby.”
“I’ll pick Lennon up around eight-thirty.”
“There’s no need for that. I will bring him to you. You’re busy enough at that time of night getting Faye in bed,” she says, and I frown. It feels wrong putting more on Barb.
“I can’t ask you to do that. There’s no point in you being out that late.”
“Mommy, you gotta go. Me and Nanny are going to make pancakes,” Lennon says, and I grab his little hands.
“Mommy can’t go cause you didn’t give me sugars,” I joke, kissing his fingers. He leans over and gives me a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Lennon.”
“Love you, too. You ready now, Nanny?” he turns around and asks Barb, completely forgetting me.
Will he forget me altogether once Jake is in his life?
It’s a childish thought, but there’s this sense of uneasiness nagging me just the same. Lennon may decide he would rather have his father over me. I don’t know if I could handle that. I shake the thought out of my head. There’s no sense in thinking about all my troubles now.
“We’re ready. I mean it, Katie. I’ll bring Lennon. It will just give me a little more time with him. Right, Lenny?” she asks, using the nickname that only she uses. Lennon doesn’t seem to mind.
“Right!” he says, pumping his fist in the air like an energetic Tony the Tiger. My heart squeezes in my chest for what feels like the millionth time since Jake destroyed my wedding.
“Okay, but if you need me at all—”
“I’ll call. Love you, Katie.”
“Love you, too,” I respond as I get in the van.
I watch Barb walk inside her house with my son. I’m not comfortable with any of this, but my hands are tied. I just hope Barb is right and he puts Lennon’s needs and wants ahead of his own. I take a shaky breath and start up my van. I better get out of here. If I don’t, Jake will show up, and I’m just not ready to face him again. My emotions are just too raw.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to face him.
Sadly, I know I don't have a choice. I don’t have a choice in any of this. If I did, I’d be on my honeymoon with Jeff, and Jake Ryan would be far away riding a bull and sleeping with every buckle bunny between here and Cheyenne.
The bastard.
CHAPTER 5
Jake
“That’s my boy. Now, drop these in.”
I walk into the kitchen and lean on the doorframe. Mom is standing at her ridiculously large island. Lennon is on the barstool and they’re making something. Whatever it is must include blueberries because Mom just gave him some to drop in–which he’s doing, although one at a time. I find myself smiling, even as acid churns in the pit of my stomach.
I’ve never taken the time to get to know Lennon or even spend time with him. I thought he was my brother’s kid—a kid he created with Katie almost right after I left town. If anything, I resented the little boy. I didn’t want to look at him. It’s not right, but that’s how I felt, regardless.
How am I supposed to fix this? Fuck, how am I supposed to get past this anger and hate I have toward the people that I love? My hand moves up to touch the still tender area above my lip from one of Reed’s punches.
I clear my throat. “What are we making?”
Mom’s head jerks up, and I can see the wariness on her face. I hate it, but at the same time, she should be worried about me. She should have told me.
Fuck, why didn’t anyone tell me?