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By the time I caught up with Augusta, she’d already bought the egg and bit into it with a moan. “Good?”
Her green eyes lit with excitement and pleasure, which only reminded me that it was the first time I’d seen her like that all day. “So good. A little greasy, but in a good way. Want a bite?” When she held the Scotch egg out for me to taste, I grabbed her wrist and kept my eyes on her as I took a bite, slow and sensual.
Her little hitch of breath told me she still wanted me.
I shouldn’t have felt so relieved.
But I did.
“Good. Mine are better though. If you play your cards right, I’ll make them for you.”
She flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and said nothing.
It was damned frustrating not to know what she was thinking. A sane man would just ask, but I didn’t ask and I couldn’t say why. I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know what.
“Oh my gosh, Daddy, Queen Magenta is magical!” Rosie was back with a photo and a wand with a glittery star on the tip. “She can turn fish into fairies and leaves into berries.”
“So her village is filled with fairies who smell like fish?”
“Daddy,” she giggled sweetly and I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re silly, Daddy.” She spoke around a yawn which meant five hours at the Renaissance Faire was Rosie’s limit.
“Daddy is silly, but Rosie is sleepy.”
“I’m not,” she insisted just as another yawn split her face. “I’m not.”
Fighting would only bring on a rare tantrum, so I scooped her in my arms with a grunt. “You know, Rosie, you’re almost too big to carry.”
“I am a big girl,” she shot back, her words slow and sleepy.
“A big girl knows when she’s tired and says so ahead of time so she doesn’t have to be carried.” I hoped she was never too big to let me carry her, but that was my own secret wish.
“I like when you carry me, Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around me and smacked a kiss to my cheek. “I just need a nap.”
“That’s why we’re going home, so you can have a nap before dinner.”
She gasped in surprise and shot up to look at me. “Tacos?”
“Tacos,” I confirmed with a smile.
“Can Nurse Gus come to dinner?”
Hell yes. “If she wants to, she’s always welcome to taco night.” I looked at Augusta to let her know I meant what I said. “What do you say to tacos for dinner?”
“That depends. Will there be homemade salsa?”
“Is there any other kind?”
Her face lit with a smile. “Then, I would love to join you and Rosie for dinner. I’ll just stop home to wash the fair off me and I’ll be there in an hour. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
As soon as we got back to my place, Augusta jumped in her car and took off while I carried Rosie inside and put her down for a nap.
Time in the kitchen was just what I needed after such a confusing afternoon. I started the dough for the taco shells because Rosie preferred the crunch of hard tacos. I tried to figure out what I did to put the distance in Augusta’s eyes as I worked. I grabbed a few tomatoes from the basket, an onion and jalapeno pepper and put them on the grill to char them for salsa.
Moving around the kitchen where everything was familiar and I knew just what to do, provided me with immense comfort. It always had. When my grief over losing my mother was too strong, food more than football soothed my pain. Right now, I needed that.
A loud knock sounded at the back door and startled me back to the present. I opened the door with a frown.
“Cal, what the hell? Rosie is sleeping.”
My best friend’s worried gaze put me on edge and when he raked a hand through his hair, I took a step back. “Do you ever answer your damn phone?”
I patted my pockets at his words and groaned. “Shit, I think it’s in the car. What’s wrong?”
“Man, there are photos of you and Trishelle all over the internet, wondering if you had a secret getaway in NYC to talk about getting back together.”
“Bullshit. She ambushed me on the street with her little cameras hidden. We are not getting back together. Ever.”
“I believe you, man. But if the photos reached me, don’t you think they’ll get to Gus? And your dad? And the rest of Jackson’s Ridge?”
Shit. “I knew she was up to something, but after all this time, I figured she would just forget about it.”
Cal let out a loud bark of laughter. “You thought your fame-hungry ex-wife would just forget about a juicy second chance story line? I don’t know if that was wishful thinking on your part or willful naïveté.”
