Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“Mommy, when is our new friend coming?” Gravity trotted to the kitchen, clutching Mr. Mushroom close to her chest.
I’d told her Tucker was a friend from Staindrop who’d been traveling the world for the past few years and wanted to meet her. I wasn’t going to tell her he was her dad until he proved to be a balanced and reliable individual.
I checked the clock on the wall. “Oh, in ten minutes, actually. I’ll fix you a snack beforehand. Apples and peanut butter?”
“Yes, please.” Gravity hoisted herself onto the couch, grabbing her iPad and flipping through the pictures on it, grinning.
“What are you looking at?” I started slicing an apple for her.
“Uncle Rhyrand and I drew faces on my toenails and made a TV show about them. They are all different characters.”
I snorted. I should probably be more worried about how completely and thoroughly this man was now woven into my life, but he was the only good thing that had happened to me in a really long time.
I handed Grav her apples and peanut butter and checked my phone, hoping to find a message from Tucker announcing he wasn’t going to come over after all or from Rhyland saying…well, anything at all.
But all I found was one message from Cal.
Cal: I’m not crazy, right? There’s something going on between you and Rhy. I could feel it sizzling between you two.
I bit down on my lower lip, suppressing a smile. I felt bad for not confiding in her about my enemies-with-benefits situation with Rhyland, especially considering she’d been extremely transparent about her love story with Row when they started dating. But I knew she’d never keep a secret from Row, and Row would kill Rhy if he found out. For once, I wanted something just for myself. My thumbs flew over the screen.
Dylan: Nope. Being a mess is our entire personality. Of course we’re being cheeky with each other. But there’s nothing going on.
Cal: Okay…
The doorbell rang. Tucker. I opened the door with a ten-ton anchor in my stomach, dread coursing through my veins. He was dressed as though this were a date, in a crisp white button-down shirt and smart navy pants. His hair was slicked back, and he was holding flowers and chocolate.
“Hey, babe.” He smirked.
My nose tingled like I’d smelled something foul.
“Hey,” I said dispassionately, taking the flowers and the heart-shaped chocolate box without so much as thank you. It would have been nicer if he’d brought something for Grav.
Meanwhile, my little girl bolted from the couch, wedging herself between my legs to peer at Tucker with a naughty grin.
“Hi, Uncle Tucker. I heard you’re Mommy’s friend.” She flashed him her tiny white teeth.
I drank in his reaction as he took her in. The cold, unaffected way he scanned her face, almost like he was searching for imperfections, before his mouth settled into a grim smile.
“Hi. You must be Gravity.”
“I am!”
He extended a hand to her. “Tucker. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Awkward silence blanketed us. He was still on the threshold, and honestly, I wasn’t eager for him to come inside.
“I was thinking maybe we could all go to the zoo today,” I said finally. “The weather is amazing, and Grav and I have been meaning to check out Central Park Zoo. There’s a cheetah exhibit. Grav loves cheetahs.”
“They’re my favorite!” Grav clapped, delighted. “Uncle Tucker, did you know that cheetahs don’t roar? They meow! Like kitties!” She curled her chubby fingers into claws.
“Hmm.” Tucker looked between us distractedly, smoothing out his fancy shirt. “Kinda hot outside, no? Wasn’t planning on getting sweaty.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. We were not getting off to a good start. “Your shirt’ll survive,” I said dryly. “I’ll grab my bag and her sippy cup. Stay here.”
Things got progressively worse when I parked Jimmy outside the zoo and we entered. Tucker complained as if he were the toddler, not Gravity. About the heat, the long line for the tickets, the stroller we rented for Gravity that had one wonky wheel. After seeing the cheetah exhibit and feeding birds in small cups, we stopped for lunch. Gravity accidentally squirted ketchup on his shirt trying to squeeze it onto her fries, and he nearly yelled at her. He kept trying to strike up conversation with me, not her, and I wondered if I was being harsh with him, since he literally had no experience with kids, or if he was just being a straight-up unredeemable asshole.
“So your brother… Doesn’t he want to expand his businesses here in New York?” Tucker asked while I watched the minutes tick by on my phone, praying for salvation.
“I don’t know,” I answered tersely. “I don’t talk shop with him.”
“But what if I sent him a business propos—”
“Uncle Tucker, do you think dolphins can brea—”
“I’m talking, Gravity,” he snapped.