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“Dad, you can come out now!” I hollered up the stairwell as Sig followed me to the kitchen.
My father came back downstairs and patted Sig on the back. “What can I do to help, TP?”
“TP?” Sig raised a brow as he unloaded the groceries he’d bought.
“That Prick.”
“Oh, that’s right. Good to know the nickname has stuck.”
“It has.” Dad winked.
“Better than toilet paper, I suppose.” He shooed my father away. “Go rest, Roland. I’ve got dinner.”
“You’d think I was a cancer patient or something…” My father shrugged before retreating to the living room.
I lingered by Sig’s side as he began preparing the food. “I know you hate it when people lean over you while you’re cooking, but I want to watch anyway.”
Sig turned around to make sure my father’s back was toward us, then planted a firm kiss on my lips. “I’d prefer you near me every second of tonight, actually.”
That sentence lit up my entire body. I watched as he whipped the batter and poured it into the pan, preparing perfectly thin pancake after pancake.
He made a huge batch and set them on the dining room table with lemon, sugar, and a chocolate spread. He’d also cut up tons of fresh fruit. It was quite the feast.
After the three of us demolished the entire batch and all the accoutrements, my father rubbed his stomach. “You know, I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, but it seems I just wasn’t interested in anything other than these delicious pancakes. Thank you for making them, son.”
“My pleasure, sir. I’m happy you were able to eat them.”
“Whether I can keep them down is another thing…” Dad chuckled.
Sig nodded. “My wife, Britney, never had much of an appetite during her treatments. We’d celebrate any time she ate something and kept it down. But it was really the lack of eating that made her weaker. I’m happy you were able to enjoy the pancakes.”
My stomach dipped as it hit me—how concerned Sig always was about whether or not I’d eaten. I wondered if it was triggering for him when I told him I hadn’t, whether it made him think back to those days.
My dad cleared his throat. “Britney was lucky to have you by her side through it all, just like I’m lucky to have my daughter. I’m sorry Abby had to leave England to come take care of me.”
“She’s exactly where she’s meant to be right now,” Sig said.
Dad offered me a sympathetic smile. “I know she wishes she was back there, though.”
Sig grinned over at me. “We miss her, too.”
Dad cocked his head. “We?”
“Lavinia and me.”
“Ah.” My father nodded. “The old lady. I heard she’s a hoot. When I get through this, I’m personally delivering her a bottle of Fireball, since you told me that’s her favorite.” Dad stood. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna head upstairs for the night.” He turned to Sig. “You’ll still be here in the morning, right?”
“Yes. I was planning to stay for a few days, if that’s alright with you.”
“You can stay as long as you like if you keep making those pancakes.” Dad chuckled.
“That can be arranged.”
Shortly after my father went upstairs, Sig went to take a shower while I cleaned up the kitchen. We needed to talk, yet all I could think about was getting him alone tonight. How were we supposed to have sex in this small house, though? My father was a light sleeper.
But where there’s a will, there’s a way.
CHAPTER 37
