Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Oh shit. This was not the time for him to come to the kitchen.
I’d hoped he would sleep in a little longer so I could give Aleesa a bath and get her out of her pajamas. He wasn’t particularly fond of Aleesa’s messes, and he definitely wasn’t fond of her still wearing pajamas during breakfast.
He griped about teaching her how to be clean and tidy, while I countered it with letting her explore and be a three-year-old. And, in my opinion, washing up after breakfast seemed much more logical for a child who loved smashing food into her hair. It didn’t matter to him, though. He still wanted her prepared before starting the day.
“Quick,” I whispered, wiping her mouth. “GG is coming. Be good and don’t tell Daddy about the yogurt.”
Right after saying that, Javier stepped around the corner and entered the kitchen, wearing his usual getup—basketball shorts, a solid-colored T-shirt, and Nike running shoes. I swear this man’s wardrobe had no variety. Today, his T-shirt was gray . . . and he was sweating. Must’ve woken up early to hit the home gym. He normally didn’t do that after a home game.
“Morning, Leesa.” He leaned down to kiss his daughter on the cheek.
“Morneen, GG,” she sang.
I stifled a laugh.
“Why does she keep calling me that?” He swung his eyes to me.
I put on a straight face and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Actually, I was sure.
GG stood for Grumpy Giant. Which Javier Valdez was. Six feet and five inches of tan, grumpy, muscled man.
The man was a pure grouch. He had a heart in there, but it was damn near impossible to get a laugh out of him unless you were family or one of his closest teammates.
I’d tried many times to make him smile, but he never, ever gave me the satisfaction. Over six months, and the most I’d get was a quirked brow if I tried to make a joke. And if that famous brow didn’t shoot up, he always said “I do not understand your sense of humor.”
“She is still in pajamas?” he asked.
“I was just getting ready to take her upstairs for a bath,” I said.
“That should have been done a little earlier, no?”
It was his passive aggressiveness that bugged me most. Not even that deep, sexy accent could disguise it.
“You’re right,” I said, swallowing my pride. “I’m sorry. She kept saying she was hungry, so I decided to feed her first.”
He said nothing in response. Instead, he scooped Aleesa out of her booster chair.
She ran her sticky hands over the scruff on his jaw. “Scratchy Daddy.” She giggled.
“Sí.” The skin around his eyes creased, and his mouth curved upward. That smile of his was so rare. Beautiful and rare. “I should shave, yeah?”
Absolutely not, I wanted to say. I rather liked his beard . . . but who cared what I thought? He most certainly didn’t.
“What all did you eat for breakfast?” he asked her. He always did this, just to hear her recount everything . . . and probably to make sure I was giving her a well-rounded meal.
“Um, I had o’meal, milk, strawbebbies, yogurr, and candy.”
“No, you did not have candy!” Javier exclaimed, laughing.
Aleesa giggled herself, then blushed.
“Sos muy graciosa, mi amor.”
He told her that often. After a quick Google search, I found out it meant “You are funny, my love.”
He was such a bittersweet man. Only ever sweet for Aleesa, of course.
After planting a kiss on her chubby cheek, he placed Aleesa on her feet before looking at me again. “Will you bathe her and get her ready, please? She has ballet class an hour early today, remember?”
I took her hand with a nod. “I remember.”
“And do not forget to brush her hair with the pomegranate gel. It stays put longer when you use that.”
“You got it.”
“You’ll have to leave on time if you want to find parking,” he went on.
“Javier, would you rather be the one to take Aleesa to ballet today?”
He gave me a puzzled stare. “You know I cannot do that. The team has to watch film in two hours.”
“Right.”
“But it is not that I do not want to take her,” he added quickly. “I just cannot today.”
“Yep. I get it.”
He frowned at me, probably trying to find more ways to defend himself. “I really hate when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel . . . stupid. Always messing with my head.”
I threw a hand in the air, feigning innocence. “Javier, all I asked was if you wanted to take her today. You seem like you really want to, and I wanted to give you the option. I’m not trying to make you feel stupid.”
He folded his arms. “But you are messing with my head.”
“I think you’re messing with your own head by worrying about all the things I know how to take care of. I’ve been doing this for months now. I can handle it.”