Bliss (Entangled Hearts Duet 2)

“A party bus?” She laughs.

“Hey, it was short notice, and I promise you the kids will like the lights and the music. I wanted everyone to be able to ride together. This should be a bonding experience for them. They don’t get this often, and I want it to be a happy memory for them. My hope is that this bright day can outshine some of the dark ones.”

She’s smiling up at me, but her eyes are shimmering with tears. “I know the kids are watching us, eager to see where today is going to take us, but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

“Then do it.” My voice is husky, even to my own ears.

“Later. When we get home.”

“Promise?”

She nods. “I promise.”

“Get your fine ass on that bus. We’ve got some fun to get to.” She laughs but moves to climb on the bus, and I follow her. “All right, you ready for a fun day?” I ask the kids.

“Yeah!” they cheer.

“Remember, you have to listen to what we tell you. No running off. You have to stay with us at all times. Got it.”

“Got it,” they all eagerly agree.

“Sam, to the zoo!” I throw my arm in the air, and the kids cheer. I take a seat next to Reese and just sit back and listen to their excited chatter. If feels good to know I could do this for them. Their smiles are contagious, as are those of my girl when she looks over at me. “Thank you,” she mouths.

“I love you,” I mouth back.

Her smile grows, as does my heart in my chest.“Look at them,” Reese says, leaning into me. We’re on our way home from the zoo. We closed it down. Stayed until they kicked us out, and the kids, even though sleeping, are still wearing smiles while clutching onto their prizes. “You spoiled them today, Coop. I don’t know how I will ever thank you for this.”

“I don’t need your thanks, Reese. I did it because I wanted to. Besides, it was you who told me they didn’t get this kind of thing. I never would have thought of it had it not been for you.”

“This must have cost you a fortune.”

“You remember I signed my new contract last week, right?” I ask her.

“Yeah, but, Cooper, this was a lot of money.”

“Reese, I can afford it.”

“I know. At least I think I do, but this was a lot.”

“Baby, my contract was for fifteen million.”

“Yes, but that has to last you. And there’s taxes and living expenses and—” I place my hand over her mouth.

“Fifteen million a year for five years.” Her eyes widen. “How did you not know that?”

“I don’t know. You never mentioned the amount, just that it was a sweet deal, and I went with it. It wasn’t my place to ask.”

“If it involves me, it is your place. Make it your business, Reese. Me… make me your business.”

“That’s… a lot of money.”

“It is. We’re going to invest and spend wisely, and we should be set for life. Especially when you add in my endorsement deals.”

“He’s kind of a big deal, Ms. Reese,” a groggy Jeff tells Reese.

“You.” She chuckles softly. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Just resting my eyes.”

“Come here, you.” She pulls him into a hug, and I can visibly see him relax into her hold.

These kids are starved for love and affection, and my girl, she’s giving it to them in spades. I’m so damn proud of her, and I cannot only see but empathize with her frustration with the system. There is so much more she could be doing. So many more kids she could be helping.

When we make it back to the home, Reese and the other staff help guide the kids inside. I stay back with Sam and Dorothy. “I can’t thank you both enough for today. I know it was last minute and it was a long one, but it’s a day those kids will never forget.”

“Son, we were happy to be a part of it. It’s a good thing you did.” Sam nods.

“Thank you. This is for you.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the two-hundred-dollar tip I set aside for them.

“That’s not necessary. We had just as much fun as they did,” Sam tells me.

“It’s true. That little one, boy, oh boy, he reminds me of our grandson. Today was good for the soul,” Dorothy adds.

“Please, I insist. I could not have pulled this off without your services. Thank you.”

Sam shakes his head, so I reach out and slide the bills into his shirt pocket. “Be safe driving home,” I tell them, stepping off the bus. I’m halfway to the door when Reese steps out. Her purse and laptop bag slung over her shoulder.

“I’ll drive,” I tell her.

“I have to be back in the morning.”