AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hey there, buddy,” I chuckle and pick him up, welcoming his tiny but surprisingly loving embrace. I’m more than content knowing he likes me. I really am. I like him, too, more than I thought was possible. “I’ve missed you.”
“I don’t like you because of what you’re asking my sister to do,” Laura says, crossing her arms. “It’s unethical and you’re exposing her and my nephew to an unnecessarily uncomfortable situation.”
“True, but the financial compensation is undeniably attractive,” I shoot back with a smirk. “And Becky is a grown woman. I think she’s capable of making her own decisions here, though I will absolutely be grateful for your input and your opinions on the matter. That being said, she’s not doing anything that might jeopardize her career or her reputation. It’s literally a barbecue hangout with a dude and his family. That’s all.”
“You’re lucky we need the funds,” Laura sighs, shaking her head at me.
I can’t help but chuckle. “I mean no one any harm. If anything, you’ll all be better off if we pull through without a hitch. But since you’re here, I have an idea…”
“Oh?” Becky chimes in, giving me a curious look.
I like the twinkle in her hazel eyes. It’s like she lights up from within whenever I get physically close to her. She can’t hide her own body’s responses from me, and I have to admit, it’s a turn-on and then some. “How about Laura hangs out with Elliot for a little while, and you and I go grab a coffee at Gino’s down the street?” I ask, then look at Laura. “We won’t be gone long. Half an hour, tops.”
“Why?” Laura replies.
“Because I’d like to spend a few minutes alone with Becky, that’s all. Just some me-and-her time.”
She waits for Becky’s slight nod of approval before she begrudgingly concedes. “Fine, hand the little guy over,” she says, and I smilingly oblige.
“Todd…” Elliot isn’t the happiest to be passed along like this, but I give him a quick wink.
“Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll be back in a jiff. I promise I won’t steal your momma away from you.”
“Not whileI’mstill drawing a breath,” Laura retorts, her slim brows furrowed tightly at me. She’d be scary if she weren’t cute. Laura is less curvy than her sister, a punk-rockette with sass and a hard-ass attitude. My guess is you kind of have to be like that in her line of business.
Becky is sweeter, kinder, infinitely more accommodating and patient. I’ve yet to meet Callie, but I’m told she is also quite different in her own way. I appreciate the dramatic diversity, though. I’ll bet it makes for interesting dinner conversation, especially if you throw the parents into the mix, too. Raising three strong women like these couldn’t have been easy, but I’ll bet it was fun.
“Come on, we’ll grab a slice of pumpkin pie, too,” I say, and take Becky’s hand in mine.
She doesn’t expect me to touch her, judging by the gasp escaping her throat, but she doesn’t say anything either as I guide her out of the park and down the sidewalk, past a river of slow-moving cars. It’s Saturday, and lots of families are heading out of town for the weekend. Maybe I should do a weekend trip with Becky and Elliot, too. I wonder what she’d say.
* * *
Gino’s is another personal favorite of mine, though until recently I was rarely in the area. I’m here more often now, given my work with Becky and Elliot. I’ve been looking for reasons to come around at greater frequency of late—and so has Piper, who handles my daily diary and meetings. I’ve not yet been able to provide a better reason than research for the upcoming barbecue with John and his family, but I’ve also ignored Piper’s eye-rolling whenever I mention it. She knows it’s getting to be more than that, andIknow it’s getting to be more than that.
I wonder if Becky can tell.
“Todd, this is umami heaven,” she says while digging into a chocolate and walnut donut dessert that Gino himself has brought to our little corner table. “Oh my gosh, this tastes amazing…”
“Wait till you try the pecan one,” Gino chuckles, nodding at the variety platter of mini donuts he leaves on the table between us along with a couple of hot lattes.
“Thank you, Gino. You’re a star,” I reply.
He smiles and winks, then heads back to the counter where other incoming customers await. It’s a busier hour for him, otherwise he’d stick around and chat some more. I like the guy. He’s got so much energy for a divorced man in his late fifties, I’m genuinely astonished sometimes. Becky gives him a quick glance before losing herself in the quaint beauty of this neighborhood coffee shop. The wall paneling is heavy-duty wood, covered with black-and-white prints of familiar spots from Italy’s most popular cities. The bar’s backsplash is made up of a simple beige and white subway tile arrangement, while the furniture is a modern but practical mix of solid wood and black steel. Nothing in this place was done for cheap, and it shows in the prices; we’d come out cheaper if we got our coffees from the Starbucks that’s across the street, but there is something infinitely more appealing about Gino’s.
Aside from the roast and brewing quality, both superior to any mainstream coffee shop chain, he also serves some of the best donuts and Italian pastries in the entire city, courtesy of his Italian mother who was smart enough to bring some closely guarded recipes with her when she moved to the States.
“Why’d you bring us out here?” Becky asks, taking every bite slowly, determined to enjoy as much of the taste as she can.
The sight does things to my senses, but I keep a cool smile on as I lean back into my chair. “I just wanted us to spend a little bit of time together. For me to get to know you outside the house and without any other distraction. Don’t get me wrong; I love your kid, but… if we’re to sell this happy-family picture to John Douglas-Mackie, I kinda have to get to a certain degree of comfort and familiarity with you.”
“You’re absolutely right. I’m impressed that you’ve already picked up on everything I said in the beginning.”
“I’m inexperienced as a family man—I’m not an idiot.”
Becky laughs lightly. “I never would’ve dreamed of calling you an idiot.”
“But you’ve thought about it—admit it.”
