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“Sure,” I agree.
And I beat him every game.
“You weren’t lying about your mama being really great at this game,” he says, laughing. “I think I need to go drown my sorrows at Sunny Side.”
Dakota puts her hand on his arm. “Are you so sad?” She looks up at him and then back at me with concern.
“I’m just teasing,” he tells her. “I need to practice before I play your mom again. And I’m hungry. How about you?”
“So hungry! Can I pick out a prize first?” she asks.
“Of course.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “She really is the sweetest kid I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you. I sure like her a lot.”
“I like you both a lot,” he says softly.
My words get stuck in my throat. I smile at him, feeling all stuttery inside, and we watch as Dakota picks out a pen with a sloth on top and a small bouncing ball.
“That was so fun. I loved that,” she says as we walk to the car.
“Thank you, Wyatt, for all this fun,” I say and tilt my head to her to remind her to thank him.
“Thank you, thank you,” she sings.
“You’re welcome. I’m the one who should be thanking the two of you. If I wasn’t with you today, I’d still be cleaning my condo and maybe washing the car or browsing medical journals.”
“Yucky,” Dakota says.
“Exactly.”
I sneak a look at him and he’s looking at me, his mossy green eyes darkening slightly.
“Maybe I can convince you guys to spend the day with me again sometime,” he says so only I can hear.
I lift a shoulder. “Maybe.” All nonchalance.
But inside, my insides are zipping around like they’re on speed.
When we get to Sunny Side, a cute diner that I’ve only had takeout from, we order burgers, fries, and shakes and Wyatt lifts his shake glass to ours.
When we lifts ours, he clinks them and says, “To making new friends…”
I repeat the words after him and Dakota repeats after me, but I already know my heart is long gone.
CHAPTERTWENTY
TV AND TACOS AND TREATS
WYATT
After spending Saturday together, I find myself eating lunch with Marlow almost every day the next week.
Okay, true confession: Once I figured out her schedule, I was able to move a few things to make my lunch coincide with hers.
Creepy? Hell yeah.
Which is why I’ll never tell a soul.
