Bleeding Love

Her smile grows and I wait to see what her brilliant little five-year-old mind comes up with.

“He told me the other day I was the prettiest princess in the whole world and I could come have tea parties with him all the time!”

Something about the image of Axel Reid telling my daughter she could come over and have a tea party was just so ludicrous that I burst out laughing, causing Molly to join in and laugh as well. That’s my daughter, always smiling and always laughing, even if she is clueless to why.

“Molly, Mrs. Izzy watched you the other night for mommy while I got some work done. I don’t think it would be nice for me to ask her to watch you when I don’t have anything to do for work right now.”

“Sure you do,” she states in the most adorable voice and points to my computer.

“Sure I do what?”

She smiles brightly, “Have work to do. I saw you working just now.”

Well, I can’t very well argue with that.

“Molly, I always have work to do, but that’s why I have a schedule so that I can have tons of little bird time and still make my deadlines.”

“Deadline doesn’t sound like a fun word.” Her nose scrunches up and she sticks her tongue out.

“Deadline is Mommy’s least favorite word in the whole world. I like peas more than I like deadlines.”

Molly grabs her tiny stomach and throws her head back to giggle. And giggle loud. Her blonde ringlets jumping up and down with the force of her hilarity.

“But you hate peas, mommy!” she giggles even harder.

“I know, little bird,” I smile and tap her nose.

She doesn’t say anything else but just continues to look at me with a big smile.

I smile back.

Waiting.

“So . . . Can I go see Mr. Axel?”

And there it was.

“How about this? How about I call Mrs. Izzy and see if maybe she is free for a few hours and I’ll work those nasty pea deadlines I hate so much. But, Mr. Axel might be at work, okay baby?”

She nods her head, those beautiful ringlets dancing again, jumps off my lap and runs back to her room. I can hear her moving around and the sounds of her making what I’m sure will be a huge mess, echoing down the hall. With a deep sigh, I pick up the phone and call the Reid house to see if my darling daughter can spend some time with the two people she has adopted as hers.

Growing up without grandparents myself I know what it’s like to want that familiar closeness, so it shouldn’t be a shock to me that she’s grown so close to them. Axel and Izzy Reid have treated Molly like she’s their blood grandchild since before Dani’s wedding. If it isn’t Molly asking to go spend time with them, it’s them calling to see if I need some time to work. It’s been a blessing I’m happy to have in my life, but it still feels weird to rely on someone else when it comes to Molly.

But I also wasn’t lying when I said that deadlines are something that I hate more than peas, and I hate peas a lot. A whole hell of a lot. With my newest novel due to my publisher in just weeks, it’s something that has been stressing me out and affecting my writing. A bad combination for an author. Maybe Molly knows what I need more than I do.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved writing. When I was growing up, I used writing as a way to escape. Now, as an adult, it’s much the same—but now I also write for pleasure and not just for companionship.

I published my first book when Jack was deployed the first time. I never, not in a million years, expected my first romance novel to be a success, but here I am five years later with multiple bestseller titles. Writing kept me from being pulled under by the grief I felt when Jack died. It kept me warm when the loneliness became too much to handle. It was, in a sense, the therapy that I needed to begin to heal.

My books got a little dark during the first year after losing Jack, but it’s the books that I hit publish on during that time that are some of the most raw feelings I ever, to this day, have put into my pages.

It’s not hard to write about fear, loneliness, pain and heartbreak when you’re living it. It was through those characters that I was able to start rebuilding my life.

I place the phone to my ear and wait for it to connect.

“You’ve reached the Reid house, where we can put the plea in pleasure in seconds.”

My eyes round and I burst out laughing when I hear Nate’s answering voice.

“Give me the phone, boy! Sometimes I wonder if you were dropped on your head,” I hear Axel gruff in the background.

“Oh come on, I knew it was Megan!”