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The doorbell rang.
“What now?” Cameron pulled the door open and Alex stepped up behind her.
“I have a delivery from La Cuchina for Baldwin.” A man with long, thick dreadlocks and a colorful hat extended three bags toward them.
Maybe he and Cameron wouldn’t be drinking their dinner after all.
Alex grabbed the bags out of the man’s hands and then reached for his wallet. The least he could do was pay for Cameron’s dinner. Although she didn’t seem to be expecting the delivery. “What do I owe you?”
“It’s all paid for, man. Even a nice, hefty tip if I got it here before seven.” He flipped his wrist. “Two minutes to seven. Righteous. Thanks.” The man flashed him a quick peace sign and then ran off the porch. Alex shook his head and closed the door.
Lizzie skidded into the room, Mariana on her tail. “Was that the doorbell? Great, dinner’s here.”
Mariana and Lizzie grabbed the bags from his hands and darted into the kitchen. “Come on, Boomer, dinner.”
Now that Cameron’s dinner was settled, Alex needed to formulate an escape. “I guess that takes care of your quandary about food. We’ll get out of your hair.”
Lizzie poked her head out of the kitchen. “You can’t leave. We ordered enough for everybody.”
Apparently, the girls had taken initiative on that whole “we need to get to know the other family first” restriction that he and Cameron probably placed on sleepovers. He guessed he couldn’t blame them. Mariana and Lizzie had been asking for playdates since the first day they’d met, and neither parent had pursued it.
Now that he’d met Lizzie’s charming mother, he wished he’d contacted her about the girls the first time Mariana had asked. He turned to his fellow parent, raising his brows in a silent question.
She shrugged and quirked her mouth. She had a much better attitude about this than he expected. Besides, what else could go wrong after him arriving unannounced, her flinging laundry in the closet, the dog puking at his feet, and an unexpected dinner showing up at the door?
Cameron stared at the slip of paper she’d ripped off the bag. “This is interesting. The charge receipt has my mom’s credit card number on it.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Mom couldn’t get out of the house fast enough when I got home. Lizzie roped my mother into this.”
“It seems that my daughter is right in the thick of it with Lizzie and your mom. It’s hard to be mad at her when I’m just so happy she’s made a good friend. I was worried when we moved that she’d have trouble fitting in. She’s so shy.”
Cameron smiled. “Lizzie has been talking about Mariana since the day she met her on the playground. She always wants to make sure new students feel welcome and no one is left out.”
“Show’s she’s been raised right.” He smiled at Cameron. Now that he had a decent idea what he’d been roped into, he couldn’t be too hard on Mariana. In her ten-year-old mind, this was a logical way to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was to have a sleepover with her new friend. Kids just couldn’t understand the implications of tricking people this way, but he could. “I hate that the girls have put you on the spot, and we just barged into your home. Why don’t we do this another time?”
“Nonsense. You’re here now. The girls may not have gone about this the right way, and trust me, I have plenty to say to Lizzie and my mother later, but for now, I’m starved. And whatever the girls ordered smells delicious.”
Cameron’s stomach growled. She slapped her hands over her belly and her cheeks turned pink… again.
He was enjoying this. Now he had to think of more ways to get her to blush like that. He had a few ideas. “If you insist, we’ll stay. But please, let me pay for our dinners.”
“Absolutely not. What kind of hostess would I be if I made you pay to eat?”
“One who hadn’t planned on company.”
“Well, you’ve got me there. But you brought wine, so we’re even. Besides, dinner is courtesy of my mother, so I suggest we enjoy it.”
By the time they made it into the kitchen, the counter that circled the back wall was filled with opened Italian take-out containers. The scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the air and his stomach grumbled.
The girls had had a little trouble getting the dinners out of the containers and onto the plates. Sauce had dripped in several places on the floor and counter and Boomer was sniffing a piece of foil that had tumbled to the floor. Lizzie slid the last plate of food onto the round table that dominated the other side of the eat-in kitchen.
“Boomer, stop.” Cameron snapped her fingers and the dog raised his head, looking sufficiently chastised. He sulked across the room, stepped into a huge dog crate in the corner, and curled up in a ball.
Mariana motioned to the table. “Come on, Daddy. Dinner’s all ready.”
Ready, indeed. “I’ll be right there, honey.” He crossed the room to where Cameron had poured wine for them both. She held up her own glass for a toast. “To coming up with the perfect punishment for our girls.”
Both of them turned to the table where they were met with the shocked faces of two ten-year-olds, one fair-skinned like her mother and the other beige, like him and Valentina.
Trying not to smirk, he and Cameron joined the girls at the table. Steam wafted from a scrumptious-looking Italian dish in front of each chair, a basket in the center of the table overflowed with sourdough bread, and glasses of water sat in front of each place.
