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“I will.” She lay against the pillow and closed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right with Hunter?”
“Absolutely,” he assured her. He left, closing the door behind him, and went to find Hunter.
Fifteen minutes later, he was worried he’d massively overestimated his own abilities. He’d offered several different meal options, but he hadn’t been interested in any of them. He wanted meatballs. The only meatballs Logan had ever cooked came in a box from the minimart, and there were none of those in the fridge. He would have run down to the shop to buy some, but they’d closed an hour ago.
“What about breakfast for dinner?” he asked, hoping to divert him. “We could have your favorite cereal.”
“I want meatballs.” He was persistent, Logan would give him that.
“Okay, buddy. I’ll see what I can do.”
Even if he’d never made them from scratch before, he was sure there was a recipe on Google, and he was a good all-round cook. Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult. He found a recipe online and searched the kitchen for ingredients. Fortunately, there was ground beef in the freezer, which he put in the microwave to defrost. He searched the pantry. Luckily, everything he needed was there, except for breadcrumbs. He also found an onion, a few cloves of garlic, and some parsley. There was no ready-made sauce he could use, but there were fresh tomatoes, so he could make a sauce from that if he added basil and perhaps some spices.
He turned and almost tripped over Hunter, who was standing right behind him. “Damn.”
“That’s a bad word,” Hunter said.
“Yes, it is. I’m sorry.” He ruffled Hunter’s hair.
“Are we having meatballs?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah, little man. We are.”
“Yay!”
Logan followed the recipe, and the resulting meatballs looked pretty good. The sauce smelled great as it simmered on the stove. He cooked a pot of spaghetti and when he put it all together, he was happy with the final product.
Hunter ate one mouthful and his face crumpled. He stuck his finger into his mouth and pulled out a partially chewed piece of onion.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“It’s onion.” Logan answered with a sinking feeling.
“I don’t like it,” he whispered. “And the s’ghetti is lumpy.”
Oh, shit. Logan cringed. He was probably referring to the hunks of tomato in the spaghetti sauce.
“The meatballs aren’t right,” Hunter continued. “There’s no crumbs. It isn’t how Mummy makes it.”
“It’s different from Mummy’s meatballs,” Logan said quickly. “It’s Uncle Logan’s meatballs.”
Hunter sniffled. “But I want Mummy’s meatballs. Not these.”
Logan’s heart plummeted as the little guy began to cry, tears and snot streaming down his face. Fuck, Gabby had asked one thing of him—to keep a single boy alive and happy—and he couldn’t even get that right. How was he supposed to manage with his own kids?
“Mm.” He scooped up a mouthful and chewed it, making loud noises of appreciation. “So good.”
Hunter only cried harder. Damn. What the hell was he supposed to do?
“Hey, buddy. It’s okay.” He got up and rounded the table, squatting beside Hunter. “No need to cry. You don’t have to eat the onion or the lumpy bits. We can pick them out.”
Unsurprisingly, that didn’t make him stop. Panic tightened Logan’s chest. He didn’t know what to do. He had no experience with crying kids. He was only used to being the fun uncle. The guy who shared treats and played games. This was above his pay grade.
He could wake Gabby, but she clearly needed sleep. There was only one other thing to do. He called his mum.
* * *
A while later,Hunter had been fed, bathed, and put to bed. Logan had watched in awe as Corinne became Super Mum, first consoling Hunter and then turning his mood around with seemingly no effort. He had no idea how she’d done it. He’d been totally lost, and nothing he’d tried had made a damn bit of difference.
