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“Great job, baby,” he said from the other side of the kitchen.
I was sure he was dying over all the noise we were making even though I was trying to be as quiet as I could.
“Can you do another one?” I asked since there were several more that needed flipping.
She started the same way, and as she shimmied the spatula under the pancake, I stole a quick peek at Ford.
His eyes were on us.
More specifically, me.
I could feel the heat from his gaze, and it made a sweat break out over my body.
Good Lord, that man looked sexy, even in his current state. He had on the gray sweatpants that I loved so much, a T-shirt that hugged his back, showing a ripple of muscle, and hair that wasn’t tamed or gelled but wild, like I’d just run my fingers through it.
“Syd! Look!”
I glanced away from Ford, my stare returning to Everly as the second pancake landed even better than the first.
“You’re doing the best job. Now, can you do the remaining ones too?”
“Yep!”
I kept my eyes on her, but I could still feel Ford’s on me.
I wouldn’t look at him.
I couldn’t.
I was positive he’d see right through me, and then he’d know exactly how I was feeling. How last night had taken every ounce of restraint I had. How this morning, watching the two of them together, feeling the intensity of his eyes, was more than I could handle.
I couldn’t shut off the tingles in my body.
I couldn’t stop the desire from pulsing.
The need.
The want.
Both owning me with a strength I couldn’t fight.
Maybe he had been born with a switch that made him forget, but the time we’d spent together was still so fresh in my head.
And time with him was something I wanted more of.
“Come on, little pancake. Be nice,” Everly said as she moved on to the last one, so focused on what she needed to do. “Don’t be mean, little pancake.”
I held my breath until it hit the pan, and we jumped in celebration.
“You nailed it,” I told her. “Look at that perfect flip.”
“Daddy, I nailed it!”
I gave her a high five, and then I handed her the spoon, so she could mix the potatoes. “Be careful with those. If any oil splatters and hits your skin, it’ll hurt.”
“I’m careful.”
I stayed in charge of the bacon, the oil in that pan a little too unpredictable for Everly to manage, and as I watched her, I said, “You’re doing such a good job.”
“That’s ’cause I’m a chef.”
I put my arm around her now that everything on the stove was settled for the moment. “You are, huh?”
“The bestest.”
“Well then, Chef Craig had better watch out. It sounds like you might be the new cook in this house.”
She tried tucking her wisps away while she stirred. “Do you think Daddy would get sick of pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”
“I think if you threw in some cupcakes, that would make it a fair balance.” I glanced toward Ford as he was looking up from his phone. There was no question where his stare landed—I could feel it on every part of my body. “Chocolate cupcakes, that is.”
“He’d love that a whole lotskies.”
It took everything I had to glance away from him. “Miss Chef, do you think the pancakes are done?”
She shrugged.
“Do you know how to check?”
“Nope.”
I led her hand toward the pan and helped her lift the edge of a pancake. “You’re looking to see if it’s the right color. Too light—you risk the chance of the middle still being raw. Too dark—that means it’s burned or on the verge.” I lifted another one to compare. “How do these look to you?”
“Yuuummy.”
I laughed. “You’re right about that. Are they done?”
