Page 85 of Holding Ground

“Nah, think I’m going to skip this one.” He slides a look toward me.

Ansel grins. “I would too.”

“Ansel,” Elliott says, low and sharp.

He just laughs and sets Baylor down when she squirms.

“I see Gabrielle! Daddy, can I go say hi?”

Elliott cranes his neck and must spot her friend because he says, “Sure. Don’t go far, though.”

Without a care, she runs to her friend, and I watch the two girls throw their arms around each other, delighted to reunite.

Ansel gets called away by one of the other firefighters, so it’s just the two of us.

Elliott shifts in place, and I watch him roll his neck side to side a few times, something I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do. I don’t remember ever seeing him so restless.

“Elliott, are you nervous?” I arch an eyebrow at him.

“What? No. Why would I be nervous?” He plays it off well, but I can tell he’s full of it.

“To see whether Baylor wins or not.”

He shrugs. “It’s just a small-town bake-off.”

I can’t help but chuckle. It’s adorable to see him nervous for his little girl. “I know that, but it doesn’t mean you don’t want her to win.”

He drops all pretense, then says right into my ear, “Okay, yes, I want her to win. I guess this whole thing has gotten my competitive juices flowing.”

I laugh, and he pulls back, fixing me with a look.

“The only thing I know that can make a girl light up like that is some time well spent between the sheets. You must be doing a good job, Elliott.” Dottie gives him the once-over and winks.

I swear Elliott’s cheeks flush under his facial hair.

I hadn’t even noticed Dottie approaching.

“Hello, Dottie.” I turn toward her with a grin.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She rounds on Elliott. “Baylor did such a good job with her entry.”

“I thought so too. Ate three of those damn muffins last night.” He chuckles.

“Well, I hope she’s proud of herself. It takes guts to put yourself out there.”

We all look toward where Baylor is goofing around with her friend.

“If she’s not, I’m proud enough for the both of us,” he says.

Dottie chuckles. “Well, I gotta make the rounds. See you two later.”

“Hey, Dottie, before you go, remind me why you left Vegas?” I needle her.

“I told you, sweetheart, I won the café in a poker game. Figured I might as well move out here and see if I could make it work.” She winks at me before she walks away.

This has become our little game. I still don’t know which of her far-fetched stories are true, if any of them even are, but it never fails to entertain me.

Half an hour later, the judges gather at the front of the room to announce the winners. They start with the children’s competition, which is a good thing, because I think Elliott might crawl out of his skin if he has to wait any longer.