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Chapter 11
Jasmine
The next evening, Jasmine cleared the half-eaten dakgangjeong, or sweet crispy chicken, according to the Korean recipe book she’d borrowed from the library. She’d forgotten to swap out the gochujang with ketchup, and unfortunately her daughter didn’t have the same affinity for spicy foods as she did. Was it hereditary? Her biological father surely would enjoy the spices from his nation. So it made sense that she did.
“Can I have more hobos now?” Zoey asked, taking a drink of her water.
“You mean hotteoks?” She laughed, picking up one of the sweet pancakes from the paper towel on the counter.
Zoey held her hands open, greedily. “Mmmm.”
“Don’t eat it too fast.”
Zoey took a bite of the fried pastry, the dark filling spilling out over the edge.
“Try not to squeeze it while you eat it or it will drip.” Jasmine traced her finger over the edge, sampling some of the sweet and nutty filling.
“I like this one, Mommy,” Zoey said with her mouth full, a few bits of her dessert spilling out onto the plate underneath her.
“Stop talking with your mouth full, silly.”
“Want some?” Zoey offered her half-eaten dessert.
“Just one bite.” Jasmine leaned in as her daughter offered her the pastry. “Mmmm. You’re right. So yummy.”
“Hey, guys.” Atlas interrupted and walked into the warmly lit kitchen.
She cringed. She’d been able to avoid him all day. It was probably better they pretend nothing had happened. Not that she’d ever forget that feeling of being alive for those few short minutes. Maybe if I was somebody else.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, switching into innkeeper mode.
He leaned against the doorframe, eyes flicking between Zoey and her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I wondered if you had any recommendations on ice-cream shops?”
“Ice cream! I want ice cream too, Mommy.” Zoey jumped up excitedly, dropping the Korean treat Jasmine had spent all afternoon learning how to make.
“You just had your dessert.” This was going to be a losing battle.
Atlas shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning up. “I’d be happy to have company.”
“Yay! Mommy, can we go to the diner? I want cotton candy—two scoops.” Zoey tugged on her arm.
Jasmine looked to Atlas. He was full-on smirking now. She narrowed her gaze. What is his game?
She couldn’t say no. It would offer them the chance to spend time together. Zoey was his daughter after all, even if he didn’t know it.
“I don’t have a car right now.” Jasmine conceded.
“We can take mine.” Atlas lifted the keys from his pocket.
She gave a resigned sigh. “I’ll get her car seat.” Jasmine grabbed her purse off the counter and Zoey’s hand. Her stomach flipped with nervous butterflies. She had to tell him soon. But for right now, she’d let Zoey have this time with him. Just because someone was a father didn’t mean they’d stick around.
* * *
“One cotton candy cone with rainbow sprinkles, and a double scoop of chocolate mint for me. What about you, Jasmine?” Atlas turned from the waitress and asked.
“I’m fine.”
“My treat,” he said.
