“Alfonso Serrano came by, too, while Damita shopped. We played a few games of chess. I admit, I’m a bit rusty. He beat me all three games.”
“I play.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “Even after his stroke, my father and I played almost every night. He may not have been able to speak and he wasn’t able to walk very well, but his mind was as sharp as a tack. Some of our games lasted for hours.” She smiled. “Brett and I played, too. Marshal Kimball played as well. There should be a chess set here somewhere in one of the armoires or maybe in the bookshelf in the parlor.” She nodded toward Avery, who wasn’t paying attention to their conversation, but instead mimicked feeding Cecily some of the hearty soup. “You could teach her. She’s very smart. I have no doubt she’d be able to pick it up in no time. I was about her age when my father started teaching me.” She noticed that his bowl was empty now. “Would you like more soup?”
“I would. Thank you. It’s delicious.”
She dished it out and watched with satisfaction as he finished his second bowl. She liked this—sitting across the table from him, comfortable in his presence, taking care of him and Avery. If it wasn’t for that kiss, she could go back to fooling herself into thinking she was simply fond of this man. It was more than fondness. It was desire, something she hadn’t felt in quite some time—something she thought she’d never feel again. Brett had been the love of her life. How could she even think about another man? Of wanting to feel his mouth on hers again, needing to feel his touch?
Stick to The Plan, the tiny voice in her head whispered and she wanted to tell it to shut up.
“What’s for dessert?” Devlin asked.
“Avery and I made rice pudding.”
A smile crossed his face. “That’s one of my favorites. There’s a restaurant in Albuquerque that made the bestArroz con leche.Do you put raisins in yours?”
“Do you like it with raisins?”
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth moving up.
“Well then, I’m glad I never do.” She pulled the pudding from the ice box, then clean spoons and three bowls from the hutch, set everything on the table and dished it out.
He took a bite. A look she didn’t quite recognize came over his face.
“What do you think?”
His eyes glowed with pleasure as he ate another spoonful. “It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She glanced at Avery, who had pudding on her chin and cheeks, but she seemed to be enjoying it every bit as much as her father.
Devlin sat back with a sigh. “I’ll have seconds if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
The request pleased her more than she cared to admit. She dished out his second bowl and just watched him eat it, that warmth in her heart growing. Oh yes, this was much more than mere fondness. More than desire. This was love, she was certain of it. She had suspected she was falling in love with him, but this…this just proved it.
She quickly tamped down her feelings. She shouldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts, but she couldn’t seem to stop looking into his eyes, which remained on her. She grew warm under his intense stare until he blinked and focused on his daughter.
“Are you done, sweet pea?” he asked, such tenderness in his voice that it made her miss her own father.
Avery scraped the last of the pudding from her bowl and pushed it away. There wasn’t even a grain of rice left. She licked her spoon for good measure.
“Time for your bath and then to bed.”
“I don’t want to, Daddy. I want to help Miss Tresia with the dishes.”
He sat back in his seat, his gaze darting from Avery to her, his eyes dancing with enjoyment. “All right. Just for a few minutes.” He pushed his bowl closer to Avery as she slipped from her seat.
Tresia cleared the table and washed the dishes. Avery dried.
“Thank you, Avery. You’ve been a big help.”
“Welcome.” Avery took Devlin’s hand. “I’m ready, Daddy.”
He rose from his seat and took her upstairs for her bath. Tresia smiled, listening to them climbing the stairs, him telling her what a good job she’d done.
