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I checked my watch. “It’s nearly six.” I flicked my chin toward the door. “Take off.”
“Ihave work to finish.”
“Try to do something fun this weekend.”
“What do you suggest?” he asked dryly.
“I’m fresh out of ideas.”
Mrs. Quinn openedthe door to Mr. Dixon’s place and poked her head out.
“You’re late,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered back. “What’s with all the stealth?”
“Nothing. I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m here. And starving. Can we eat?”
“Want some wine?”
“Love some.” She looked back, still blocking me. “Do I have to drink it out here?”
She blinked at me. “Of course not. Come in.”
“Are we still whispering?” I leaned forward and spoke in her ear as she let me inside.
She held up her finger and grinned.
“Will you grab the sauvignon?” Mr. Dixon’s voice floated down the hall from the kitchen.
“Is Andrew here?”
Mrs. Quinn shot me ashut your mouthlook.
“Who was at the door?”
I stopped when Marlow spoke.
“A lovely surprise,” Mrs. Quinn answered, a little too enthusiastically.
“Hello, Wicked.” I stepped into the kitchen. “Or am I not allowed to speak to you directly?”
She pointed at her father. “You set this up.”
“I asked the young man over for dinner. I don’t see the big deal.”
“Love dude.” Blake sat at the table, wooden building blocks scattered in front of him.
He was the best thing I’d seen all day. I refused to count Marlow.
“Love dude,” I repeated back to him, holding up my fist to him. He missed, but nailed it on the second attempt.
When he stretched his arms out to me, my chest swelled.
“Don’t even think about it,” Marlow hissed.
I ignored her and picked up my little dude. “Can’t get my work done without you. How much longer are you gonna be on vacation?”
