Page 67 of A Little Luck
“Yep, and under your arms and on your chest and your face.” I pat his shoulder, and stand as well. “You’ll be having a lot of changes in the next few years, but don’t worry. I’ll be here if you want to talk about it.”
We start to walk again, and he puts his small hand in mine. “I wish you were my dad.”
My throat tightens, and I stop walking. He looks up at me worried for a beat, but I take a knee, pulling him into a hug.
“Me too, buddy.” His arms are around my shoulders, and when I feel the tension leave his body, I hug him a little tighter. “Me too.”
* * *
Grouper filetssizzle in a pan of olive oil, surrounded by roasted red peppers, onions, celery, and cherry tomatoes. My conversation with Ryan is on my mind.
I think I handled it pretty well. It was the first of what I hope will be many trusted conversations between us. I imagine him getting older, me getting older, and us being friends in a way I never had with my dad, who died when I was fourteen.
I’ll need to tell Piper what happened, and I hope it makes her see what I already know—we should be a real family. The thought of proposing crosses my mind once more.
I cut up a baguette of French bread to toast in the oven, and a bowl of steaming white rice with pine nuts and lemon wedges cools on the counter. I glance at the clock, and it’s almost eight. I’m sure she went by Aiden’s to tell Ryan goodnight.
The thought of them together here, tucking him into bed in this house makes me smile. I can convert the study I never use into a bedroom, and I’m sure Mom will let me have my old bed until I can replace it with a new one. One he can pick out himself.
Another warm smile curls my lips when she walks through my door.
“Honey, you’re home,” I tease.
“It smells delicious in here!” I love the sound of her voice, and I quickly remove the fish from the pan, plate it, and return the vegetables to the fire.
I continue stirring them over low heat to finish cooking them. “There’s wine in the fridge. Did you make your deadline?”
“Sure did.” She goes to the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of Sancerre. “I like having Jemima on staff, but I’m going to have to bring in more money somehow if I’m going to be able to pay her and keep the lights on.”
“Hazards of owning your own business.” I meet her eyes. “Did you…?”
“Proofread her stories? Definitely, and I have to say, Jemima Dixon has an interesting way with words.”
I chuckle, cutting the fire and dividing the vegetables between our two plates. “In more ways than one?”
Placing the pan in the sink, I reach for a wineglass. I’m midway through pouring, when I realize she’s watching me with that half-frown on her face.
“What is it?”
“In what way is Jemima Dixon interesting to you?”
The tone in her voice puts me on the defense. “Are you suggesting I have an inappropriate interest in Cass’s little sister?”
“She’s obviously very interested in you.” Her eyebrow arches, and her voice adopts a tone I’ve never heard before. Definitely jealous. “Do you have a thing for Taylor Swift impersonators? Do you want to fuck her?”
I have no idea where this is coming from, but jealous Piper is kind of hot. I put my wine glass down and switch off the oven. Then I close the space between us, putting both hands on the counter on either side of my girl and caging her between them.
Using my height to my advantage, I look down on her, answering flatly. “No.”
To her credit, she doesn’t back down. Her chin lifts, and she blinks those green eyes up at me. “How do I know?”
Leaning closer, I slide my nose along her cheek before speaking low in her ear. “Because I only want to fuck you.”
Her breath catches, and she fists my chest as if she’ll push me away. I’m not going anywhere. “Are you jealous, Piper?”
“No.” Her tone is a little too bossy.
She’s a little too defiant, and I confess, I can’t believe after all I’ve said and done she actually believes I’d want someone else. It almost makes me laugh.Almost.