Page 15 of Reaching Roland

He chuckled, low and deep. Internally, I patted myself on the back that I’d pulled that sound from him so many times today. “Ihear ya, shortcake. Let's go put something in your stomach, and then we’ll head out.”

“Shortcake?” I asked, confused.

“If you're going to call me Daddy, then I'm going to call you shortcake. I told you I’d figure out a nickname for you.” He winked at me, then placed his hand on the small of my back and urged me forward. This man might be the death of me.

Chapter Six

ROLAND

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had everything ready for us to divvy up the strawberries.”

I looked over all the glass jars and lids that I purchased last night laying on the table. They were all cleaned and ready to go. I shrugged. “I told you I like to be prepared.”

“Do you think you bought enough?” He snickered.

Chuckling myself, I admitted, “Maybe I got a little carried away.”

Kenny spun and looked up at me. “Roland, there are eighteen jars. We picked a lot of strawberries, but not enough to fill all of them.”

Shoving his shoulder gently, I said, “Don't worry. They won't go to waste.”

“What are you going to do? Return the ones we don’t use?”

“No.” I waved the idea off. “I bet Miss Georgina or one of her neighbors will use the rest. They make all kinds of jams andsoups and sauces. If I get really lucky, they'll jar something up for me.” I rubbed my stomach.

Kenny's gaze darted down to my hand, then away, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah.” His eyes bounced back down to my belly, and I looked down to see if my hands were dirty or if I’d stained my shirt, but I didn’t see anything. He cleared his throat again. “Yeah.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and emerged with aBlow Pop, which he promptly unwrapped and stuck in his mouth.

“Kenny?” I asked, concerned. He suddenly looked so uncomfortable to be here, his sucking on the candy reinforcing that thought. We’d had such a great day, but our easy camaraderie seemed to have mysteriously evaporated.

“Rolly, we're here,” Indie sing-songed from the direction of the front door.

Shit, they were early. I’d been hoping to ease Kenny’s anxiety before they showed up. “We're in the kitchen,” I called back.

“We?” Cameron asked.

“We’re having company, and your father told me not to bring my French apple pie? What’s your father up to, Cameron?” I heard Miss Georgina ask as they escorted her slowly into the kitchen. When the three of them made it to the entryway, Indie’s eyes widened, Cameron's narrowed, but Miss Georgina merely looked curious. “Who's your friend?” she asked, crossing the room slowly with an outstretched hand.

Kenny moved quickly to meet her and took her fingers in his, kissing the top of her hand. “I'm Kenny. And I know you’re Miss Georgina because I’ve heard all about you.”

Her smile warmed, and her gaze darted to Indie. “The Kenny who does such a fantastic job on my grandson’s hair?”

Kenny beamed. “That's me. Although it took me a minute to figure out that the grandma Indie talked about all the time was the same Miss Georgina that Roland went on and on about.”

“Well, isn’t it nice to know my guys all talk about me,” she said with a smile. Over her shoulder, I noticed Cameron frowning. What the hell was his problem? If he made Kenny uncomfortable, I’d wring his neck. This was my home, and his mama and I had taught him better than that.

On the other hand, like he'd been struck with lightning, Indie ran across the room and threw his arms around Kenny's shoulders. “I'm so excited you're here.”

Kenny patted Indie’s back awkwardly and glanced back at me. “Roland invited me.” Judging by how defensive he sounded, he’d noticed Cameron’s lackluster response to him being here. I hoped my son didn’t think he was too old to put over my knee. Okay, he was, but still.

Wanting to put Kenny at ease, I said, “We went strawberry picking today, and we still need to clean them. I thought it would be nice for Kenny to have dinner with us as well, and I stopped at the bakery for a shortcake to make a strawberry shortcake for dessert.”

Miss Georgina clapped her hands together. “Oh, look at those beautiful berries.” She hobbled over to the counter where I'd set our buckets by the sink.

“Wait a minute. You went strawberry picking together?” Cameron asked.

Kenny took a step back, and before I could call my son out for sounding as rude tomy guestinmy homeas he’d been looking, Indie elbowed him in the gut.

“And why shouldn't they? They're both young and single.”

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