Page 79 of Recipe for Rivals
I didn’t let him. “I need to get back and check the news for tornado locations.”
That seemed to work. He shook his head, but I could see how angry he was. When I hung up the phone, I dropped my head back and breathed out.
Ben and Alice were gone when I returned.
“They followed Leia into their room. They think she’s playing hide-and-seek, but I think she’s just not used to a couple kids chasing her around.”
“Will she be traumatized?” I pulled out the chair kitty-corner from his and sat down.
“No, I think she likes it. She was being coy, watching to see if they were following.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Dusty’s eyes held mine. He seemed hesitant, like he wanted to ask if I was okay but didn’t want to pry. The last thing I wanted to talk about was Carter. We had done that enough.
Surveying the puzzle piles, I lifted my eyebrows. “There’s a lot of blue. I can see you didn’t put Texas together.”
“This puzzle is ridiculous,” he answered quickly, starting to put the pieces into piles again—corners, edges, color and pattern schemes. The man was clearly not a novice. “The whole surrounding ocean is one solid color. How are we supposed to use cunning and smarts to figure out where each piece goes?”
“I think it’ll have to be more of atry each piece to see if it fitskind of situation.”
“Like I said. Ridiculous,” he muttered.
We spent the next hour working on the puzzle, getting each state put together and starting on the surrounding water. We were interrupted twice when Ben wanted to bring out his Star Wars toys and show them off—all except Chewbacca, who was still suspiciously missing—and then to show Dusty his Kylo Ren costume.
“Alice took Chewie,” Ben said, swiping his lightsaber around the small living room.
“I did not!” she argued.
“Did, too.”
“I don’t even like your dumb toys.”
“Yes you do. You wanted him to marry your Barbie.”
“Barbie doesn’t need?—”
“Okay, bedtime,” I said, rising and clapping my hands. I hazarded a glance at Dusty, but he looked amused, bending over the table to fit blue pieces into the ocean until one fit, then moving to the next. We’d become methodical about it, and I think both of us just wanted to see the puzzle finished so we could burn it.
“Can Leia have a sleepover?” Alice asked.
Dusty looked up, giving her a sweet smile. “Not tonight. As much as she’d love that, we don’t have her litter box or her Yoda.”
Ben ran over, sheathing his lightsaber. “She has a Yoda?”
Dusty jerked his chin slightly toward Alice’s pink monkey stuffed beneath her arm. “Leia sleeps with a stuffed Yoda, and I left him at home. She loves it as much as you love Peaches, so you can probably guess how hard it would be for her to sleep without it.”
Alice shook her head, eyes wide. “She couldn’t.”
“So I’d better take her home, right?”
Alice was in full agreement. Ben, who didn’t have affection for a stuffy, didn’t understand. I held Dusty’s eye while I ushered my kids toward the bathroom to brush their teeth. “I’ll be right out, but if you want to leave, don’t worry about waiting.”
He glanced to where Leia had curled up on the sofa, then back to me. “I can’t leave until this ocean is finished.”
Weird, sweet relief sluiced through me.
It only took about twenty minutes to get the kids in bed, read them a few stories, and kiss them good night. When I finished, I went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, guzzling it down.
“You made that look delicious,” Dusty said from the table. His cat was curled against his chest, and he stroked her back like a villain.