AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Brandon made the pancakes, Mom.”
Ashlyn bites down on her lower lip as she looks at me. “Any other hidden talents, Dixon?”
It’s my turn to hold back a smile. Instead, I move next to her, and whisper, “I’m pretty sure you’ve seen a few, but I’ve got plenty more whenever you’re ready.”
Ashlyn’s face flames red.
Very aware of how impressionable teenage girls are, I take a step back. “I better get going. But we’ll talk soon.”
It’s not a question. I refuse to accept any other answer.
She nods, and Lindy jumps my way. “I’ll walk you out.”
She links her arm through mine and walks me back over to the couch where my sneakers are. When she stops, she crosses her arms over her chest. My guess is she’s trying to look tough. “So, Brandon... What are your intentions toward my mom?”
What the hell? Really?
“Listen, shortcake. Your mom and I have a history. I’ve cared about her for a long time. That’s all you’re getting out of me, so how about you go ask her. Just don’t do it when everyone’s around. That’s not cool.”
Her pretty eyes roll, and she giggles. “Fine. You’re no fun.”
I grab my keys and wallet and follow her to the front door.
She presses up on her toes and hugs me tight. “She deserves a good guy, and I’m pretty sure you’re one of the best.”
“You giving me your blessing, kid?”
She throws the door open with a flourish. “Maybe I am.”
“Well, maybe I appreciate that.” I step outside and pick up a pink Sweet Temptations bakery box and hand it to Lindy. “You expecting a delivery?”
She opens the card taped to the top of the, then yells back to her mom. “Mom. Your admirer has upgraded to cookies, and there’s a note this time.”
What the fuck?
Ashlyn quickly moves next to her daughter and rips the card out of her hand.
When she opens it, I read it over her shoulder.
Since you didn’t like my roses, I thought I’d try your favorite sweet.
-The Collector
With shaking hands Ashlyn rips the cookie out of Lindy’s hand before she gets it in her mouth, then grabs the box too and tosses it all into the trash can. When she looks up, there’s tears in her eyes. “Girls, I need everyone to go get dressed, okay?”
The teenagers all jump up, sensing now’s not the time to argue.
Everyone except Madeline. “Mom. It’s time to tell somebody.”
“I know, honey. I’m going to call the police.”
My head whips to Ashlyn. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Mom’s—”
“Upstairs, now, Madeline,” Ashlyn cuts her off, then gives her daughter a turn toward the stairs.
I wait until she’s out of ear shot. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
