AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERTWENTY
Lee recognized how much help he’d gotten over the past couple of months. First from Cherry, who’d helped him get the reservation at Montague’s. Then from Mama and Jenni-Lynn for telling him about the baking class at The Southern Bakery and letting him and Rose come last minute. Gretchen had helped him with sweets from her shop, and Karyn Harlow had helped him with cabbage and carrots for Thumper.
He had no idea what he’d done to get Rosalie to look at him with the same stars in her eyes that she wore on her shirt, but she did. He surely would wake up in the morning and find that he’d dreamed all of May and June. She didn’t really want to be with him. She hadn’t shown up at the hospital with pizza because ofhim. She hadn’t kissed him just now like she was falling in love with him.
He felt like he was living a dream, and he really didn’t want to wake up at all.
“Ford,” he said as he went inside his cabin, one hand still in Rose’s and the other holding his guitar by the neck. His son looked up, a spatula in his hand. “Did the cookies come out?”
“Yes, sir,” Ford said, going back to the task of getting the treats off the pan and onto the wire cooling rack.
Lee stepped over to the instrument holder and positioned his guitar in place. “Come meet Rosalie’s daughter, Autumn.”
Ford slid the spatula under one more cookie. “I just have two left,” he said. Autumn skipped into the house behind her mother, and Rosalie smiled at her as she went by. Rose closed the door and glanced over to Lee, and he wasn’t quite sure what she was thinking.
She wore that professional grin, the one she’d had plastered to her face on math night. The one that didn’t tell him what she was really thinking or feeling. He had a similar mask, and even if his was much surlier, it accomplished the same thing.
“Did you make these yourself?” Rose asked Ford as he scooped up the last cookie.
“No,” he said. “My dad helped.”
Lee thought it was the other way around—Ford had helped him make the cookies—but he didn’t correct his son. He simply tried on a smiling mask too, hoping his was as convincing as Rose’s. He couldn’t control his thoughts in that moment, and all he could envision was Rose and Autumn living here with him and Ford in this cabin at the farm.
He and Rose hadn’t really advanced their relationship much further than it had already gone. They weren’t talking about serious things yet, and Lee had been waiting for her to introduce her daughter into his life. Now that she’d done that, perhaps it was time to talk about more serious things.
“You two are so domestic,” Rose said, shooting Lee a flirty smile.
“I told you I could cook,” he said.
“Yes, every Wednesday,” she said, reaching for his hand. He gladly slipped his fingers between hers.
“Yeah,” he said. “You and Autumn can come out any Wednesday you want.”
“He doesn’t always cook,” Ford said, turning to put the spatula in the sink.
As the utensil clattered, Lee said, “I do too. Every Wednesday.”
“No,” Ford said with plenty of attitude. The boy would be nine soon, but Lee wasn’t anticipating him being eight-going-on-sixteen.
“Yes,” Lee said dangerously, his pleasant attitude already starting to slip.
“Who grilled the hamburgers and hot dogs last night?” Ford put his hands on his hips, his dark eyes throwing fire at Lee. “Oh, that’s right,Idid.”
Lee scoffed, his smile reappearing in a genuine way. “Grilling isn’t cooking, Ford.”
Rose started to giggle, but quickly covered it. “I don’t know, Lee,” she said. “He has a point.” She even stepped around the island to stand next to his son. “What did you make to contribute to the dinner last night?” She blinked her long lashes at him, clearly teasing him.
“Well,” he said, rapidly blinking his eyes too, though he was sure they didn’t have the same effect behind his glasses. “I cut up a couple of tomatoes.”
Rose looked down at Ford, who looked up at her. “Chopping?” Rose asked.
“Slicing,” Lee said. “That’s some serious kitchen skills.”
She shook her head. “There was no actual heat. I’m with Ford on this one.”
Lee chuckled as he held up his hands. “Fine, all right. You two win. Ford or I or the two of ustogethermake dinner every Wednesday night out here. The offer stands. Y’all can come join us anytime you want.”
“Yeah,” Ford said, his perfectly agreeable third-grade persona back in place. “Next week, Dad says he’s gonna show me how to make pronto pups.”
