I almost forget to answer as I take another pull of coffee.
“Oh, okay. You’re still that worried about my cooking, I see,” I tease.
He laughs. “Better safe than sorry.”
I stick my tongue out at him and grab an apple from the bowl on the counter to hold me over until lunch. I peer over the top of it as I sink my teeth in, my eyes fixed on Grady.
The girls roll back in their seats, laughing.
“Just be ready in an hour,” he tells us, flashing that picture-perfect smile over his shoulder.
The girls talk about the games they like while I grab a nibble of French toast—yes, it’s magnificent—and tell me how their father only lets them hang out when there won’t be many people at the bar. They stick to the video games and arcade machines because they’re too young for darts.
Their excitement continues until we arrive at the bar.
Grady gives them each a twenty-dollar bill to spend on the row of games lining one wall.
No one else is at the Bobcat, and Grady spends a few minutes checking doors and opening shades before he says he’s going to check out back for damage.
The place is rustic, plastered in homey old beer signs and country jokes, but it’s also got a modern vibe I like. You’d be hard-pressed not to feel at ease enjoying an evening of fun here.
I watch the girls play their games until I see Grady’s finished his inspection, then I meet him near the long, highly shellacked bar.
“Everything still in one piece?” I ask, pulling over a glass of water he serves.
“Near enough. Like Weston and Hank said, nothing but the trash got flipped, and they took care of that cleanup. Austin just arrived—he’s the cook today—and I asked him to put on some chicken wings for the girls when he has a chance. What would you like?”
“Wings sound good,” I say. “Anything I can do to help out? I feel like I’m just twiddling my thumbs.”
“Gotta catch up on some paperwork.” He grimaces slightly. “If you want to put your lovely organizational skills to good use, I have a few piles of receipts and shipping orders that need to be filed for accounting.”
“Show me!” I say, glad to not just stand around.
He opens a door behind the bar that reveals a decent-sized office with stacks of papers on top of every flat surface.
“It doesn’t all have to be sorted today,” he says, gesturing to a round table in one corner. “Just the two stacks there. I usually take an evening every week just for filing things, but I haven’t gotten around to it lately with all the fun.”
We trade smiles.
“All right. Do they get filed in that cabinet?” I nod at the black metal filing cabinet next to the table.
“Good guess. There should be a file next to the invoices that have already been approved, paid, and entered into the system. I just keep paper copies for audits.”
“I’m on it, boss!” I say, very deliberately brushing his wall of a body as I saunter past.
Not so fast.
He touches my arm, stopping me from crossing the room, and slowly winds his fingers around my wrist.
The look on his face makes my heart race.
I don’t want him to kiss me, I think, because that shouldn’t keep happening. Not again.
Yeah, I’m not very good at convincing myself, either.
“Daaaad!” Sawyer shouts from the main room. “The Bug Hunt machine malfunctioned and ate my money!”
He pinches his lips together and shakes his head, releasing my hand with a sigh.
“I’d better get on that. Whole world might end if the kids can’t take potshots at cartoon bumblebees.”
“Got you covered,” I say with a grin, hurrying to the table to start my task, telling myself I’m glad for the interruption.
Again, I’m a horrible little liar.
The next half hour feels awkward. Mostly because I’m trying to justify not kissing him again next time we’re alone, and it’s getting more impossible by the second.
The girls shout when the chicken wings are served, along with fries and sodas.
We sit at the table together, talking and laughing. Easy when the girls are so comical, and their little fights over who beat what arcade game ease the tension inside me.
Once we return to Grady’s office, I’m definitely feeling better—even with the smoldering, lip-biting sideways glances Mr. Broody-Brood keeps casting my way.
While Sawyer and Avery run on like tiny chatterboxes, I’m reminded how it’s always been just the three of them for a long time, and how sweetly they’ve welcomed me into their lives.
I should be honored.
They’ve helped me in a desperate time and I have to pay it back somehow.
I definitely can’t leave behind damage.
After we eat, I get the filing done in no time and straighten the room.
Grady comes in and out of the office, greeting employees as they arrive for the evening, as well as the first few customers. We leave before the bar gets super busy and then spend the rest of the afternoon at home cleaning up the yard.