Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
She gives me a little wave, and then she’s off, and Birdie is already dragging me toward the truck.
“I’m starving, Daddy. We might need two pizzas.”
Chapter Four
DANI
The first week of school went off without too many hitches. There are always going to be a few minor obstacles to hurdle, especially early on in the year. These kiddos are new to all-day school, so some will get homesick, some will get tired and throw mini tantrums, and some even have accidents.
Poor Jacob had a rough week, but I have a whole bin of clean clothes for him, just in case. I think he’s simply nervous.
I also keep a cabinet full of healthy snacks and even nonperishable meals for those kids who might need extra calories or aren’t getting enough food at home.
I was once that kid. I don’t want any of my students to feel they are unable to participate in class simply because they’re hungry. That’s something I can help with.
I’ve just finished organizing the fresh snacks and meals that I bought on my way home from school. It’s Friday evening, and I know without a doubt that once I’m home for the weekend, I’m not going to want to go far.
Exhaustion has set in, but that’s okay. It means that I’m spending my days with about twenty excited, energetic five-year-olds, and there’s nothing else I’d rather do.
My front porch is in the shade, and it’s been a particularly hot late-summer day, so I step out and sit in the simple Ikea chair I bought for myself and breathe in the fresh air. Putting my bare feet up on the ottoman in front of me, I scoot down so I can lean my head back against the cushion and get cozy. There’s a light breeze blowing through that feels great after being inside most of the week.
I have so many projects to do around the house over the next couple of days. I knew when I rented this house that it was a total fixer-upper. The original owners had passed away, and their kids don’t live here anymore and wanted to rent it out. I got it for a steal, and in exchange for the cheap rent, I’m doing some minor cosmetic surgery on the place. Mostly just some paint here and there or replace a light fixture or two.
That sort of thing.
My brother threw a fit when he saw the inside of this place. But it’s clean, it’s cheap, and I can make it look great with some elbow grease.
And I’ll get to it, as soon as I’m finished enjoying my porch.
Meow.
My eyes pop open, and I listen, and then suddenly, there’s a calico cat on my lap, staring at me with wide, gold eyes.
Meow.
“Hey there. Who do you belong to?” I tentatively hold my hand out, and she leans into my touch, rubbing her cheek against my fingers. Her motor immediately kicks into gear, and she’s a tiny purring machine. “You’re sweet. You’re a baby, aren’t you?”
I don’t know much about pets. By the time I was thirteen, Holden made Dad stop bringing home animals that weren’t either horses or cattle, and my sisters and I were so grateful. Not that we ever said that out loud. After all these years, I can still hear Charlie’s and Alex’s cries after what he did to a tiny kitten. My sobs into Holden’s chest as my dad laughed with glee at our torment. Why did he torture those poor animals? How did he become so ... barbaric? It was horrible. Okay, that’s an understatement.
So, I’ve never really taken care of a pet before. Not that I’m about to start now.
“You should go on home,” I inform her, but she just turns in a circle and begins to wash her paw. “You’re going to take a bath on me? Really?”
A minute later, Bridger and Birdie get home.
“I have to use the bathroom,” Birdie announces loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear after she climbs out of the truck, slams the door, and runs inside the house.
Bridger, on the other hand, looks over at me, then proceeds to walk my way.
He’s in jeans and a tight white T-shirt that molds over his broad shoulders and bulky biceps in the best way ever, and the short sleeves show off his tattoos. He has sleeves on both arms, colorful and sexy as all get-out. He’s lean of hip, with a flat stomach, that razor-sharp jawline, and lips that a girl could probably lose herself in.
I mean, I would assume.
“Hey,” he says with a crooked smile as he approaches, and then his eyebrows climb when he sees the cat. “New friend?”
“Help me,” I whisper loudly. “She just jumped up here, and I don’t know what to do.”
His eyes soften as he approaches, squats next to us, and runs his hand down the back of the cat, making her purr even louder.