“Oh. Were you born that way?”
“No, it was gradual. Retinal degeneration…something like that. The colors faded over time. It’s only in the last year that it’s been pronounced. I tried the special glasses that can correct it, but they turn everything really ugly shades of yellow and blah. It kind of sucks,” I admitted with a wry half smile. “But I work around it okay.”
“Th-that’s good. Um, I have a speech…thing. I stutter s-sometimes.”
I quirked my brow. “I hadn’t noticed.”
His grin was so wide it had to hurt his face. “L-liar.”
I chuckled, clapping his shoulder and stepping toward the door. “I’ll see you around, Parker. Tell your dad—”
“Tell me what?” Sean appeared in the doorway, wearing a chocolate-splattered floral apron with a spoon sticking out of the front pocket. He shot a searching glance between Parker and me as he pushed his hand through his short hair.
“Dad, you have chocolate in your hair.” Parker snorted in amusement.
I pointed at the glob of frosting at his temple. Sean swiped at the spot, smearing it over the tip of his ear. “You’re making it worse, Betty Crocker.”
He scowled playfully and made a halfhearted attempt to clean up. “So…um, how’d it go?”
“Good,” Parker replied. “Are you done frosting the cupcakes?”
“No, we just got started. We set some aside for you, but you know your sister and—”
“Yep! I better go. Bye, Johnny. T-thank you.”
I held up my hand for a high five. “See you next time, man.”
Parker slapped his palm against mine, then raced into the adjoining great room. The cheery sound of family fun drifted through the house…the dog barking, cupboards closing, and a girlish squeal of delight. And more dog barking.
I chuckled at the chaotic homey cacophony. I would never have envisioned this was Sean’s life. He’d always seemed like a badass boss to me—not a man who’d wear an apron to bake cupcakes with his daughter while his son had a guitar lesson. His chocolate-mussed hair and concerned parental frown made him look goofy and yet very…endearing. In a hot dad way.
Okay. Definitely time to go. I reached for the knob just as Sean did.
“I’ll walk you out,” he insisted, holding the door open.
I stepped onto the porch and blinked against the bright afternoon sun at the hilltop view of the city. “Wow. This is nice.”
“Yeah,” he agreed absently. “How was he?”
“Amazing. The next Chuck Berry.”
Sean sighed grumpily. “Less sarcasm, please.”
“Sorry, Dad.” I snickered. “He was great. I mean, he sucked, but I think he had fun. I told him to keep the guitar and practice on his own. If you want me to come back, I will.”
“Really? That’s good.” He stared at the horizon for a moment before glancing my way. “I wanted to—why are you smiling at me?”
“You’re fuckin’ covered in chocolate. It’s in your ear.” I made a face and tugged at my own ear.
He gestured at the apron. “Baking isn’t my thing.”
I flashed a megawatt grin at him. “Sure, it is. Are you decorating those cupcakes with anything besides frosting?”
“Sprinkles. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to crash your family time.”
Sean inclined his head. “So…did he talk to you?”
“It took a little coaxing. Full disclosure…we played video games before we picked up the guitars. You’re not paying me, so I don’t really feel guilty. I just don’t want you to think it was a jam session from the start.”
“I know.”
“You know?” I repeated.
“I snuck in to see how you were doing. Hulk let you down. You might want to go with Iron Man or Captain America next time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I snort-laughed, then sobered. “As for Parker…he’s a good kid. He’s shy, reserved, and likes organization. He seems like the kind of person who excels at things he can control. I bet he builds killer Lego sets. He might learn a few songs, but I doubt he’s a savant. You never know, though. Kids are sponges. They pick up stuff you and I would never catch.”
“That’s true. I’m impressed. And you’re right…about everything. He keeps a lot inside. He’s always been that way. Very thoughtful and methodical. He sets a high bar for himself. He likes to get things right the first time. He does well in school, but he’s struggling with the transition to junior high. His old friends tried out for sports and he opted not to. It’s left him feeling ostracized and alone. Hormones don’t help. I thought it might be good for him to spend time with someone cool who—”
“Cooler than you?”
“Well, let’s not get crazy.” Sean flipped the corner of his apron and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I just…thanks for doing this. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Hey, if he really is interested, we can do this regularly. My schedule is light for the next couple of months, but it’ll get crazy again in late spring.”