Recovery by L. B. Simmons Read Free Book Online Page A

peaceful, no longer marked with the tensions from earlier. I lean into his side and look up at him because sometimes I just find it hard not to stare. His eyes meet mine, and in the light I note his sharp jaw and the light scruff lining it. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into his body, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. I wipe it off because I also noted a lot of grease around those full lips earlier. Giving me his sexy chuckle, he grins and then returns his attention to Kyndall’s performance.
    And in that moment, all is forgiven.
    I think .

     
    After dinner, I grab the pizza boxes and start carrying them to the kitchen, when Blake steps in front of me, removing them from my hands. Smiling appreciatively, I automatically turn to resume my clean-up of the living room. As soon as I reach the coffee table and start to pick up the paper plates, I hear Blake’s voice booming from the kitchen. “Girls, why don’t you help your mom clean up, huh?” I hate to tell him they’ve already disappeared and most likely won’t reappear until about two minutes before we leave for fireworks at the lake. I really need to figure out their super, secret hidey hole. I would like to use it now and then.
    “It’s okay, Blake, I’ve got it. It’s just a couple of paper plates.” He pokes his head out from the kitchen, exhaling a long sigh that catches my attention as I’m sure he intended. “Not the point, Alex.”
    “I really don’t feel like getting into this with you again.” We lock eyes and it’s a long while before he breaks our stare. “Fine. Whatever.” I hear the trash bag shuffling around and rush to grab the plates. On a mission, I speed toward the kitchen, hoping to sneak them in there before he takes it out, and nearly trip over the “Books” box I packed earlier. “Damn it,” I hiss. My poor toe is throbbing.
    Setting the plates on the counter, my hand remains on the bar, supplying balance while I rub my foot. “Stupid box.” I try to shove it with my pulsating foot which does absolutely no good. Damn it.
    I bend at the waist in preparation to move the box. Wrapping my arms around the sides, I breathe out a long breath before lifting; I have a feeling it’s going to be heavy because I packed a lot of books inside. Just when I start to raise my body, I hear, “Alex! What the hell? Let me do that!”
    Blake slams the trash bag down and stalks his way over to me and my box. I let go and turn to face him. “Blake, I’ve–”
    “Yeah, I know, you’ve got it ,” he says. “But, if you don’t mind, for my own peace of mind, would you please just let me move it?”
    “Don’t you think you’re being a tad overprotective? I mean, I have done this child-bearing thing before, you know,” I say, gesturing towards the girls’ bedrooms.
    “No. I don’t. At all.” Blake exhales a small breath, trying to calm himself. “Look, Alex. We’ve started this life, together . So, we eat together, we laugh together, we sleep together, and now we’re moving boxes together . I would like to take this one.”
    I roll my eyes at his unacceptable use of sarcasm.
    Fine.
    I let him carry the stupid box. But, for the record , I didn’t need him to.
    While he takes the garbage outside, I change clothes, now donning my red retro Coca-Cola t-shirt that doesn’t really fit me anymore, black capri yoga pants and flip flops. “Blake, are the girls ready?” I shout from the bedroom.
    “Not sure! Let me check!”
    Grabbing my purse off the bed, I step into the living room to wait for the magical reappearance of my kiddos from Narnia, or wherever it is they always disappear to. After about five minutes, I’m getting a little irritated. Fireworks don’t last all night people.
    Hearing Blake’s voice once again coming out of Nycole and Kyndall’s room, which evidently is where the cool kids hang out now, I once again find myself traveling down the hallway. Stepping towards their room, I hear