Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
“Morning!” Stella called, already going for the mug cabinet.
I laughed, handing her the fresh pot of coffee. “Please save me.”
“Sorry, no can do.” She arched a brow. “You’re the one who got us in this mess to start with. I’m just hoping Cadell doesn’t break his leg today since we all know he’s going to insist he should go first as the eldest of the crew.”
“I’m sure Arlen won’t be far behind him.” Courtney shook her head with a grin. “But Pax told Flint to bring some medical supplies, just in case.”
That made me feel better because I knew the guys listened to the VP. “Great, now we just need to try to keep Maisie off the darn thing.”
My daughter idolized her older brother. She trailed Lorne all the time, and even though he was three years older, he was incredibly patient with his sister. But she was way too clumsy to skateboard on the driveway, let alone a ramp.
“I’ve got you covered there.” Violet beamed a smile at me. “Brodie brought some special walkie-talkies to distract the younger kids. He didn’t tell me what makes them so unique, but I’m sure it’ll work.”
I had no doubt she was right. Echo was a whiz at audio technology and great with the kids. Plus, he didn't want Poppy anywhere near that ramp, so he was highly motivated to keep the little ones busy. “Fantastic.”
“And we brought plenty of food, so you aren’t stuck cooking breakfast for the entire crew,” Stella added as she snagged a blueberry muffin from one of the trays.
I grinned at her. “Even better.”
“Mom! Dad said the ramp’s ready!” Lorne skidded into the kitchen wearing pajama shorts, a helmet, and mismatched socks. He spotted the women and froze, then went pink. “Uh…hey.”
Stella grinned. “Look at you, ready to break every bone in your body at eight in the morning.”
He shook his head with confidence that came from only getting scraped hands and knees so far. “It’s only dangerous if you fall wrong.”
“And if you don’t listen to your father,” Lucas’s voice rumbled behind us.
I turned and shot him an accusing glare, but it melted when I saw Maisie cradled in his arms, her cheek resting against his broad chest.
She mumbled, “Daddy, Lorne say he gonna fwy.”
Lucas shot Lorne a look. “You will not be flying off that ramp, kid.”
Our son’s shoulders slumped. “Fine.”
“Don’t make me bubble-wrap you,” I muttered.
“I won’t get hurt, Mommy.” Lorne flashed me a grin that was almost identical to his father’s. “Daddy said I couldn’t.”
I knew Lucas couldn’t boss our kids into never getting hurt, but I loved how much they believed in him.