Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Leo covered for me last night, and it was exactly what I needed. In the moment, I was devastated about not convincing Libby to testify, but I woke up feeling more clearheaded this morning.
That disappointment is part of my job. I needed to let myself fall apart since I’m new to it, but then I had to put it aside and move on. Maybe she’ll think about the things I said and change her mind. I hope so.
Leo probably just wants to get our stories lined up since Anson will be at dinner tonight. It’s probably just something small, and I’m worried for nothing.
Suki, beside me in the driver’s seat, glances at her rearview mirror.
“Hey girls, I’ve been meaning to ask, does anyone know where the cocoa powder is? I was baking yesterday and I couldn’t find it. I know I have some.”
“No idea,” Charlotte says absently.
Olivia is in the SUV’s third row, probably listening to music on her headphones. The youngest girl, Hallie, pipes up.
“Maybe someone hid it under my bed.”
Suki furrows her brow. “That’s oddly specific, Hals.”
“I’m just saying maybe.”
“Okay.”
I suppress a smile. Hallie cracks me up often without even trying.
“I’ve always wondered what baking cocoa tastes like by itself,” I say, giving Suki a knowing look.
“Not like chocolate,” Hallie says. “It’s really bad. Don’t make chocolate milk with it.”
Suki sighs softly and we exchange an amused look. I shrug.
“It looks just like hot cocoa mix,” I say in Hallie’s defense before changing the subject. “How’s Darling?”
“Good. He fell asleep on me and I couldn’t move because his head is heavy.”
I didn’t think I wanted kids before Suki married Carter and his nieces became like daughters to her. I’m not so sure anymore, though. I love the girls and really do feel like an aunt to them. I see what Suki has with her family and think maybe someday I want that, too.
It’s a school night, so we drop the girls off at home before going to the restaurant. They don’t get to attend many games on school nights, but tonight they did. The babysitter Suki hired meets us in the garage to herd the girls into the house.
“Bring home some breadsticks,” Charlotte says to Suki, adding, “Please.”
“Got it. With extra cheese dip,” Suki says.
She backs out of the garage and closes the door, glancing over at me.
“Carter is so ready for a baby. I keep putting him off because I’m waiting for you and Leo to make this thing official, so we can get pregnant at the same time.”
I cringe. “Don’t say it like that, gross. It makes me feel like we’ll be side by side on our backs getting railed.”
“What’s wrong with you? You know what I meant.”
“Leo and I will probably come out of this fake relationship as friends,” I admit. “But we’re definitely not getting married. Have your baby, and then if I have one in a few years, your kid can babysit my kid.”
She groans. “That’s not as fun.”
I yawn, my early morning and late night catching up with me. “How long will this thing be? I have to get up for work in the morning.”
“Not super late. The guys are leaving early tomorrow for a road trip.”
“Okay, good. Eating carbs is going to knock my ass out.”
Suki got me a jersey—or I guess, a sweater, as hockey players apparently call them—with Leo’s last name on the back. I’m wearing it even though it’s not really my thing. It’s comfortable, and I do love a night out in black leggings and tennis shoes.
When we get to the restaurant, several players are already at the table. One of them is Anson, who gives me a tight-lipped nod in greeting.
Leo’s eyes lock onto me as I make sure to say hi to everyone at the table. When I turn my gaze to his, my concern comes back. I can tell from his expression that something is wrong. I turn on the charm so I can get him alone.
“Hey babe, can I talk to you?” I give him an adoring smile, biting my lip for good measure.
“Yeah, of course.”
He slides his chair out and stands, taking my hand and leading me toward the restaurant’s entrance. I give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as we pass tables full of people. Some of them look at him as we pass, and I hear someone murmur, “Cleveland Crush.”
Stopping in the lobby of the restaurant, he glances over at our table, which is still in full view.
“We can go outside if you want,” I murmur.
“No, it needs to be here. Follow my lead.”
We’re facing each other, only about a foot of space between us. He puts his hands on my hips and I stop breathing. In his dark, perfectly cut suit, he could easily pass for a model or an actor. He looks polished and completely in control, my heart racing with awareness as I wrap my arms around his neck.