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Then her entire face lights up as she beams a smile back at me. “That we are.”
Reaching out, she gives my shoulder an affectionate squeeze, lingering for a moment that’s longer than necessary before she pulls away and walks past me.
Turning, I watch her as she walks out the front doors, my heart squeezing with a strange sensation that’s soft and fuzzy but also a little painful.
I can still feel her warmth on my shoulder as I take my seat. Still see the brightness of her smile as I look at the big white plastic bag in front of me.
Dammit.
So much for quitting. I can’t walk away now, not when I know how much it means to Avery.
Untying the bag, I fish out a couple of sandwiches and salads and set them out on the desk. Then I stare at the food, trying to come to grips with the emotions swelling inside my chest.
For once in my life I’m needed, truly needed.
I don’t know how long I stare at the food, lingering and savoring the experience, before I notice someone approaching the desk.
“Hey Bree,” Casey says and gives me a little wave as he wanders over to me.
Freshly showered, his damp hair is combed back, though one stray strand keeps falling into his eyes.
“Well, if it isn’t my hero,” I smile at him and watch with delight as a blush creeps up his neck.
“I’m not a hero,” he grumbles as he stops beside the desk.
“You’ll always be my hero,” I tell him and have to bite my lip to keep from giggling as his blush deepens.
Reaching up, he rubs the back of his neck and shifts on his feet as if he’s uncomfortable. Then he grumbles something beneath his breath, but I can’t hear it over the loud growl suddenly coming from his stomach.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“Yeah, a little,” he admits as he drops his hand.
“Want a sandwich? I have no clue what’s in it, but it’s probably good,” I say as I nudge one of the two sandwiches toward him.
“How do you not know what’s in it?” he asks as he picks up the sandwich and unwraps the end.
Before I can shrug my shoulders, he’s taking a big bite out of it.
“I think they gave me the wrong thing in the drive thru,” I answer.
Chewing with a thoughtful look on his face, he swallows then grins at me. “It’s an Italian, my favorite.”
I grin back. “Awesome.”
Standing from my chair, I give it a little nudge, rolling it toward him. “Here, sit while you eat.”
Already chewing another big bite, he shakes his head in refusal.
“Sit,” I order, “or you’ll get indigestion.”
“Yes, mom,” he says irritably and drops down in the chair.
I gasp. “I’m not that old.”
Casey snickers before taking another bite.
“You’re what? Ten? Way too old to be my kid,” I say as I perch myself on the inner corner of my desk.
