She moved to where I’d stacked everything and stopped dead. “When did we get cloth napkins?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, pulling the asparagus off the grill plate on my stove top and arranging them on a platter. “We’ve always had those.”
“I don’t remember ever using ’em. And aren’t these your fancy dishes you won’t let me or Tris eat off of?”
My cheeks burned at being caught going overboard—again—by my teenage daughter. “Just set the table, would you?”
Damn Trick and his inexplicable tendency for making me act crazy simply by existing. I knew I was being ridiculous, using my best china and cloth napkins. The reason we never used them was because I didn’t need another thing to wash, but when I thought about Trick and his kids sitting at my table, I got it in my head that I needed to do it up.
Blythe tossed a cheeky smirk my way, grabbed the dishes, and scampered off to the dining room to do as told while I finished getting everything else ready.
I’d decided on my smothered pork chops because they were always a hit, and I could put them in the Crock-Pot before I headed off to the salon this morning. There was also the added bonus that the recipe fed at least eight, and with one grown man and two growing boys with bottomless pits for stomachs sitting at my table this evening, it was sure to be enough.
I took the time to grill the asparagus, making sure the grill marks were picture perfect. I skipped over the boil-and-serve rice, choosing instead to pull out my big, pain-in-the-ass rice cooker. And I’d even gone so far as to make a big salad in my barely used wooden salad bowl with matching wooden utensils.
In spite of the three quarters of that massive chocolate cake that was still sitting beneath the glass dome of my cake stand, I’d busted out my baking skills to create a whole new dessert from scratch. I went with a known crowd pleaser, my homemade chocolate silk pie, hoping it would impress Shawn and Hannah.
The doorbell rang just as I set the last platter in the center of the table, and my heart rate kicked up into dangerous territory.
“Got it!” Tris hollered. A second later, I heard his feet patter against the floor and caught his blurred figure as he ran to the front door like a mini-tornado.
God, I was such a mess.
Friends, Nona. You’re. Just. Friends, I scolded silently as I tried to get a hold of myself.
Slapping on what I hoped was a perfectly normal smile, I stepped out of the dining area and joined the fray just inside my front door. “Hey, guys. Hope everyone’s hungry.” I could have patted myself on the back for sounding so normal, but I refrained.
Trick’s head came up, his eyes hitting me dead center, and I felt the warmth in them like a blast of pleasant summer air. Pushing the way that look made me feel toward the back of my mind, I glanced to Hannah and Shawn. I never got used to how much they looked like their father. Both of them had their father’s sandy brown hair, but Hannah’s had beautiful natural auburn streaks slashed through her mane. Hannah had her mother’s brown eyes that looked beautiful with her soft, delicate features. But Shawn’s were the same gunmetal as his father’s. “Now, before you whine like my kids are sure to do, I’m just gonna warn you now, there’s asparagus on the table in there. But as a reward for eating at least four stalks, the dessert I made is all chocolatey goodness. We have a deal?”
Hannah lips tilted in a soft grin. “Yeah, Ms. Nona.”
Shawn’s reaction was a lot more like what I’d expected. His eyes bugged, his mouth contorted, and his tongue stuck out in a classic yuck face. “How chocolatey are we talkin’ here?”
“Shawn,” Trick said in reprimand, but I let out a laugh in reply.
“Chocolate silk pie. I made the crust with crushed up Oreos, and the whipped cream is homemade by yours truly.”
“Dude.” Tris grinned in excitement at his friend. “Mom’s chocolate silk pie is freaking awesome. You totally won’t mind the asparagus. Trust me.”
“He’s right,” Blythe added. “It’s the best. But she makes her veggies in a way you don’t mind eating them, anyway, with loads of parmesan cheese.”
Man, I loved my kids!
“Yeah, okay,” Shawn replied, sounding a lot less dire. “I can handle that.”
“The table’s set. Drinks are in the kitchen. You guys help yourselves.”
The boys turned and bolted like they were on fire, with Hannah and Blythe following at a more sedate pace. But instead of moving into the kitchen, Trick headed for me, stopping only a few inches away.
“Didn’t want to show empty-handed,” he said, extending the arm holding a bottle of wine. “Hope it’s okay.”
“Oh... well, thank you. But you didn’t have to.” I took the wine from him and looked down at the label, my belly doing a little whoosh. Most of the time someone brought a bottle of red, it was either a cabernet or malbec or pinot. Any of those would have worked, but my preference was red blends, and the bottle I was currently staring at was a red blend I’d spied almost every time I went to the grocery store. It was a top shelf bottle, about three rows above the ones I usually got for no more than twenty bucks a pop, so I knew exactly how much this one cost, and I’d been dying to try it.
“Wow, Trick. You shouldn’t have.”
“Did I get the right kind? I don’t know much about wine, but I remember you mentioning something to Eden about liking blends.”
I looked up at him, my lips parted in surprise. That conversation had happened months ago when we all gathered at Eden and Lincoln’s cabin for a housewarming party, and it had only been mentioned in casual passing. I couldn’t believe he paid attention, let alone remembered.
He was killing me. Sexy, funny, sweet, outstanding in bed, and now this. If I hadn’t already thought it a million times a day, it was moves like this that solidified the fact that Emma Wanderly was a raging idiot.
“It is,” I said in a quiet voice, looking up and getting lost in those stormy grays. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
I suddenly felt trapped in his gaze, and if the intensity rolling off him hadn’t put me in a fog, I could have sworn I saw him lean in a little closer. The longer we stared at each other like that, the further he sucked me in until I was at risk of doing something incredibly stupid. Like closing the last bit of distance and standing on my tiptoes so I could kiss those full, soft lips.
“Whoa! Dad! Come check out this cake!”
Just like that, the spell was broken, and I quickly stepped back, clearing my throat and trying to shake off the headiness that was weighing me down. “I’m gonna pop the cork on this. You want a glass? Or I have beer if you’d prefer that.”
I saw something flit across his face that I thought might have been disappointment, but he cleared his expression before I could get a better read on it. I gave my head a shake and told myself it was nothing more that wishful thinking on my part.
“Beer’s good,” he answered in that soothing baritone as he followed me into the kitchen.
The kids’ attention shot from the cake to me.
“Ms. Nona, did you make this all by yourself?”
“Sure did, honey,” I answered Hannah as I grabbed Trick a beer from the fridge.
“Dad, come look at this,” Shawn crowed. “It looks like somethin’ on those bakin’ shows!”
Moving back toward the island, I watched with a flush coating my cheeks as Trick joined his kids, placing his hands on Hannah’s shoulders as he leaned past her. The three Wanderleys looked at the cake like it was a work of art.
“Damn, sweetheart,” Trick breathed, lifting his head so he could see me. “You seriously did this all yourself?”
If they were impressed with that, they would have swooned days ago, before the thing had been chomped on by me and my kiddos. But even with a hunk of it missing, it was still pretty.
“Mom’s like the best baker in the whole world,” Tristan announced with no small amount of pride, causing my chest to swell.
“We call it stress baking,�
� Blythe announced unnecessarily. “That’s usually when something’s really bugging her and she goes all out.”
Trick stood tall at her proclamation, his forehead puckering in a serious frown. I could read him well enough to know he wanted to ask what had been bothering me enough to make a freaking wedding cake, but no way in hell was I letting that happen.
“If I eat two helpings of vegetables, can I have a slice of pie and cake?” Shawn asked, his mouth practically watering as he leaned in close to the cake stand.
“Think that’s up to your dad, bud.” I giggled.
He looked up at his dad with those matching eyes. “Can I? Keep in mind, I’m a growin’ boy, Dad.”
Trick’s rich, husky chuckle rumbled through his chest as he mussed his son’s hair. “If it’s cool with Nona, it’s cool with me.”
“I want both too!” Tris added.
“Same deal for you, kid,” I said. “Two helpings of veggies.” He nodded determinedly. “All right, now how about we eat before it gets cold, yeah?”
Everyone grabbed their drinks and we started into the dining room. I couldn’t remember the last time my pretty, rustic six-seater table had been filled up. Chris preferred eating in front of the TV no matter how many times I asked him to join us so we could eat as a family. Blythe and Tris normally scarfed their food down like they were in a race so they could get back to their own thing, so having all my chairs full for the first time actually felt really nice.
Trick and I were in stitches as the boys kept up a hilarious running dialogue, and Hannah and Blythe rolling their eyes good-naturedly, too cool at their age to laugh at their little brothers’ antics even if they wanted to.
The girls chatted off and on with each other about high school. Hannah was a year ahead of my freshman daughter, but they were still getting along pretty well.
The food was disappearing quickly, the conversation was flowing free and smooth, and I was nice and relaxed, thinking this was going off without a hitch when it happened.
“Hannah,” Trick said in a smooth dad voice, drawing his daughter’s attention. “You’ve hardly touched your food, baby girl.”
It hadn’t been lost on me that the pretty girl had picked at more than she’d eaten, using her fork to push the food around on her plate, but she’d made a concerted effort so as not to offend, and I brushed it off as everyone’s tastes being different, and maybe pork just wasn’t her thing.
“Oh, uh….” Red started creeping up her neck at being called out. “Yeah, I’m just, um… getting full.”
“Darlin’, you love pork chops, so what’s the deal?”
I tried my best to communicate with my eyes, silently sending vibes of shut it across the table in Trick’s direction. Hannah appeared to be stringing tighter as he questioned her, and I had a gut feeling that if he continued to push, it wasn’t going to be good.
“No deal, Daddy,” she replied, her voice getting thin with frustration. “I just had a big lunch, so I’m still kinda full.”
“That’s okay, sweetie,” I broke in, hoping to cut the tension building in the air around the table. “That’s totally understandable.”
“No it’s not,” Trick insisted, his eyes going from me back to Hannah. “Nona put in a lot of work to make this meal for us. You have better manners than to leave that much on her plate.”
Oh hell.
“Hannah thinks she’s gettin’ fat, so she’s basically quit eating,” Shawn chimed in.
That was when things went from tense to explosive.
“Shut up, Shawn!” Hannah cried.
“Well it’s true!” he shouted in return to his sister. “And it’s totally stupid!”
“Are you kidding me?” Trick growled.
At the rage in his voice, Hannah’s and Shawn’s backs went straight and they turned their attention to their father. My kids looked to me, discomfort written all over them.
“You have to be kidding me, ’cause my girl wouldn’t do something as stupid as starve herself because of her weight,” Trick gritted, irate eyes pinned on his daughter.
“Daddy,” Hannah said on a whisper, tears welling up on her lower lids. Everything she was feeling was communicated in that one word. She was embarrassed at the situation and upset her father was angry, and it was hard to tell which emotion was stronger.
“That sweet voice usually gets you off easy, but not this time. Now tell me you aren’t starvin’ yourself.”
“I’m not!” she cried, sniffling to fight back her tears. “Shawn doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”
“Do too!” he argued back. “Only thing you ever eat is apples and celery. And she’s havin’ Mom measure her every week, and she scribbles all that junk down in a stupid journal.”
The atmosphere went electric as waves of rage crashed off Trick.
“Pick up your fork,” he commanded. “I wanna see you clean that plate.
I had to admit that I could understand Trick’s upset. From looking at her, Hannah appeared to be underweight, if anything, proving that what her brother was saying was true. And the fact that her own mother would feed into her daughter’s insecurities by going as far as to measure her pissed me right the hell off. But this wasn’t the time or the place to dredge something like that up, so I cut in before the situation completely deteriorated.
“Trick.”
At the strength in that one word, everyone at the table but Hannah turned to me. I gave my head a small shake, telling him it was time to stop. Then I turned to Hannah and said her name.
It took her a while, but she finally lifted her head from the intense examination of her plate and cast a hesitant look in my direction. Once I had her attention, I spoke. “You’re an incredibly beautiful young woman.” I could see she didn’t believe me, so I soldiered on. “Every woman is built differently, honey, and I know telling you not to compare yourself to anyone else is easier said than done, but I want you to really listen to what I say next, and I hope it sinks in because, hand to God, it’s the absolute truth.”
She remained silent, waiting for me to go on. So I did. “Pretty soon, your father’s life is gonna become an absolute misery. And I’m willing to put money on that having already started, because a girl who looks like you, with those long legs, all that thick hair, your stunning eyes, and that gorgeous face, is gonna start drawing the attention of every single boy who sees you.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and her eyes went wide as Trick grumbled, “Sweet Jesus,” dropping his head back and looking up at the ceiling.
“Well?” I shot him a scowl. “Am I wrong?”
“Of course not. My daughter’s a looker, but at least I’ve been able to sleep easy knowin’ she hasn’t discovered just how much of one yet,” he said with an irritated glare that made my lips twitch as I fought back a smile.
Ignoring his put-out expression, I looked back to his girl. “I’m speakin’ from experience, because I was just like you when I was your age. I hated my curves. I thought they looked weird and they made me self-conscious, but I’m gonna let you in on a little secret that most girls don’t come to appreciate until they’re much older. The way you’re built is exactly what boys are attracted to.”
“Oh God, please just strike me with lightning now so I don’t have to deal with what’s to come from my baby girl comin’ into the knowledge that she’s a knockout,” Trick grumbled to the heavens.
I ignored him and sallied forth. “You might not realize you’re already rockin’ it, sweet girl, but you have my word. You so. Totally. Are.”
“I… th-thank you.”
“No need to thank me for stating a fact, honey, but you’re welcome.”
“She’s right, you know,” Blythe broke in. “Heath Jeffers has the hots for you.”
It was official, I had the best kids ever.
Hannah’s head shot in Blythe’s direction, and I saw the shock written on her pretty face when she breathed, “He does not.”
“He so does. Everyone’s
talking about it. And Sierra Heyworth is totally jealous ’cause she’s crushed on him for, like, ever. But Heath’s all about you. I heard in the cafeteria the other day that he was talking about how you’re one of those pretty girls who doesn’t know just how pretty she really is, which just makes you even cooler. I bet if you smiled at him, he’d be all over it.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Trick groaned in pain, making everyone burst into laughter, and I took a relieved breath that the tension in the room had suddenly cleared.
“All right,” I said, pushing my chair back and rising to my feet. “Time for dessert.” I turned to Hannah and asked, “You want pie or cake?”
“Pie,” she replied, and I headed into the kitchen to dish dessert up, waiting until I was alone before smiling like a loon.
Chapter Seven
Trick
The warmth that had bloomed in my chest when Nona handled my girl with such care hadn’t lessened one goddamn bit during dessert. If anything, it burned hotter and brighter as the evening progressed.
In a matter of minutes, she’d succeeded in doing what I’d been trying to do for months. She’d made those clouds in my baby girl’s eyes fade away, and as far as I was concerned, she’d just worked a miracle.
Grabbing the last of the dishes from the table, I stacked them up and carried them into the kitchen. Shawn had taken off to Nona’s basement with Tristan to play video games, and Hannah and Blythe were somewhere talking makeup or hair or boys—whatever shit teenage girls talked about that turned their dads’ hair gray.
Nona was alone in the kitchen, elbows deep in sudsy water when I deposited the rest of the dishes on the counter beside her. “You know that thing you got right there is supposed to take all the work outta washing dishes, right?” I teased, tilting my chin to the dishwasher just to her left.
Her gorgeous smile was a shot to the gut. Christ, she really was beautiful. “I don’t trust it.”
My head cocked to the side in bewilderment. “You don’t trust the dishwasher?” I asked in a strangled voice as I fought back a laugh.
The Best of Me: a Hope Valley novel Page 6
