Page 13 of Blame It On the Lattes

My eyes widened, not sure how to handlebossy Sam.

“I called Aiden. He’s on his way with his truck. We’ll load up what we can and get you guys settled in. Here are my keys. Why don’t you get Kennedy situated in my truck so she doesn’t freeze out here? Cassidy can help get your stuff.”

“Okay,” I said, not having it in me to fight. I looked around for something to hold on to so I could get up with Kennedy wrapped around me, but before I could, Sam reached out and gently took her from me before extending his hand to help me.

“It’s the black one over there,” he said, nodding to it. “Go ahead and let her sleep for now, and then we’ll worry about waking her up and putting her in her booster seat once we’re ready to go.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

He smiled a smile that could warm even the coldest days while I forced my heart not to get used to it.

Seven

Sam

“How is she feeling?” I asked Avery as she sat curled up on my couch with Kennedy sleeping on her lap.

“She’s still running a fever, but it’s not as high as it was. Thank you again for everything you’ve done for us today.”

“It’s my pleasure.” I sat down in the chair across from her and tried to ignore the way my heart danced every time I saw her. “I grabbed stuff to make her chicken noodle soup while I was at the store. I also grabbed some frozen pizzas and stuff to make dinner this week. Is there anything that sounds good to you?”

“Sam, you don’t have to keep spoiling us like this. You’ve already given us a place to stay and went to the store to get medicine for her. You’ve done more than enough. If anything,I’mthe one who should be making dinner foryou.”

“You don’t need to do that, Avery.”

“Trust me, it’s the least I’m able to do to show the gratitude I feel.”

I could hear the sadness and frustration in her voice, but decided to let it go. I didn’t want to make her feel worse when I knew how much she was already struggling with everything. My goal was to make things easier for her without her feeling like she owed me.

“So, maybe a pizza tonight? That way, if Kennedy doesn’t feel like soup, there’s at least something else she might eat.”

“That sounds fantastic. Thank you.”

I smiled and got up to fix dinner. It had been a while since I’d made chicken noodle soup from scratch, but I was pleased when everything came back to me easily. For a moment, I was transported back in time to my grandmother’s kitchen as she taught me to make it.

I popped a frozen cheese pizza into the oven and set the timer while I stirred the noodles, waiting for them to get to the perfect softness.

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