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“Will you guys be eating in the dining hall tonight?” I asked Holt.
“We will,” he said, putting an arm around his son’s shoulder.
He’d noticed Spencer was crying, too. Holt patted his shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort, and my crush on him deepened.
“I’ll bring out something special,” I said. “And when you guys eat that whipped cinnamon butter, tell Spencer what a great job he did making it.”
Spencer smiled up at me and Holt gave me a grateful look.
“We’ll look forward to it. Thanks, Shea.”
“I’ll see you soon, Spencer,” I said with a little wave.
They left the kitchen and I only snuck one glance at Holt’s broad back, his muscled physique filling out his short-sleeved gray T-shirt.
Nina leaned in close. “Is it hot in here, or is it just him?”
“Both,” I whispered, grinning at her.
I couldn’t deny it—Holt was incredibly sexy. His concern for his son, coupled with the image of them walking side by side, Holt towering over his small son with an arm protectively over his shoulder, had done me in.
“Chef, where’s the seasoning for the chicken?” someone called out from nearby.
The question brought my feet back down to the ground. Sexy athlete nearby or not, I had to concentrate on dinner.
“Hi, Shea.”
A few hours later, Spencer smiled brightly at me when I stopped at the table he was eating dinner at with Holt and Marley.
“Hi there,” I said, setting the platter I was carrying on the table.
I’d checked with their server to make sure my delivery came at just the right time. They’d ordered dinner and were snacking on rolls with cinnamon butter. Holt had a glass of iced tea and the kids both had water.
“As promised,” I said. “These breadsticks are called grissini. I brought some beer cheese dip for them.”
Spencer’s eyes widened as he looked at the long, skinny breadsticks I’d arranged in three jars.
“Does it have shellfish in it?”
“No shellfish. I promise that while you’re here, you won’t be served anything with shellfish. We keep cards on each guest so we know about their allergies and their favorite foods. Your server will always have that card.”
Holt gave me an appreciative look. “That’s a great thing to do.”
Marley looked at me shyly. “Does the cheese really have beer in it?”
I laughed and exchanged an amused look with Holt. “Just a little bit for flavor.”
“My dad likes beer,” she said.
“Good to know,” I said.
Holt gave me a sheepish look. “I drink beer on occasion. I’m not that into it.”
“Don’t hog it, Spencer!” Marley cried.
Spencer had moved the bowl of cheese dip closer to him, and Marley couldn’t reach it. I was about to go to the kitchen for another bowl when Holt cut in.
“Guys, we’re not fighting over cheese dip. It’s going between the two of you, okay?”
