AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And money,” J.J. said, looking up at him with a shrug. “Boring.”
“Wait until you’re the one making that money,” Faith said as she headed over to the refrigerator and opened it. “Is it okay if I make myself at home?”
He smiled at her stopping to question that after she’d already done exactly that. But Holden liked that she was familiarizing herself with the location of all the crucial stuff in his kitchen setup. The last thing he wanted to do was direct her to every single item she needed.
“Please do,” he said. “And if you see a way things can be improved, feel free.” He gestured to indicate his surroundings. “I was just so excited to move in, I don’t know that I necessarily came up with the best place for everything.”
Faith uncapped the milk and poured to the halfway mark of her glass. Then she screwed the cap back on again and returned it to the refrigerator. He watched all that, only realizing he was staring after she stopped moving and turned to look at him.
“I can do that,” she said. “In fact, if you need anything organized, I’d love to. I redid my ex-fiancé’s parents’ store while I was working there. They said it had never looked better.”
“You should have her clean up your closet,” J.J. said, pointing at her dad with her fork. “It’s a mess.”
That last part was aimed toward Faith, who seemed to be fighting a smile. Holden, meanwhile, was mortified.
“I know where everything is,” he said.
Besides, organizing his closet was a little personal. It was just his pants and shirts and shoes, but the thought of a woman he was trying to impress going through all that made him want to crawl into a hole.
A woman he was trying to impress. Since when had she become that? Since the minute he met her. Man, he needed to get a handle on this before his feelings got involved.
“I’ll start with the kitchen,” Faith said. “And what about dinner?”
Holden looked over at J.J. She set down her fork and stared ahead thoughtfully for a long moment, probably running through her mental checklist of all her favorite meals.
“Meatloaf and lima beans,” he said, naming two of J.J.’s least favorite foods. That always got her going.
“Eww,” she said for the second time since Faith had arrived. “I say spaghetti.”
“We can’t have spaghetti every night,” her dad said.
“Why not?” That came from Faith, who was smiling as she looked from dad to daughter and back again. Whose side was she on, anyway? “I’d love to have spaghetti for dinner every night. Or maybe alternate with pizza and tacos.”
“I like the way you think.” J.J. looked over at her dad. “Can we do that?”
Holden tossed Faith a look that was completely in jest. He wasn’t all that strict with J.J. He just wanted her to be healthy. And spaghetti mixed with tacos or pizza or whatever was not the key to good health.
“At least one green food at every meal,” he said. “That’s the rule.”
Faith leaned against the area where the sink was and took a sip from her milk glass. “Salad is great with spaghetti.”
He started to argue that salad wasn’t the healthy sort of green vegetable he meant, but why be a fuddy-duddy? It was two days after Christmas, and they had a special guest in the house. He should pull out all the stops.
“I’ll tell you what.” He slid his phone out of his pocket to glance at the time. “I have to get on the road. You two figure out what you want for dinner and let me know. I’ll swing by and get the groceries on my way home.”
“I’ll cook,” Faith said. “You’ll be working hard all day, I’m sure, so it’s the least I can do.”
“I’ll help,” J.J. said. “After my practice, that is.”
He should jump in here and save Faith. She might not want to cook with an eight-year-old. As good a kid as J.J. was, cooking with her meant lots of management, especially when she taste-tested a little too often as an excuse to snack on the food as it cooked.
“That will be fun,” Faith said, and her big smile told him she meant every word of it. She straightened and took her glass over to the sink. “We’ll come up with a list of what we need and text it to you.”
“Or we could just use the tablet to order it and have it delivered here.” J.J. pointed to the tablet they kept on the little desk next to the refrigerator. “I won’t go overboard, I promise.”
J.J. gave him her puppy-dog eyes. It was a look he could never resist. But he didn’t want to burden Faith with getting groceries ordered and delivered in addition to cooking dinner, even if it would take a load off him.
“We’ve got it under control,” Faith said. “You go kill ‘em at your meeting and don’t worry about us here.”
