Page 19 of Delayed Penalty

Flora grins, grabbing her donut instantly and taking a huge bite like she hasn’t eaten in days.

Fuck, I really need to feed this kid better.

“Will that be all?” Quinn asks, still with that unnatural grin.

“The coffee I paid for would be nice.”

Her smile slips just slightly, her eyes tightening around the edges. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

She hurries away, and I stare after her as she sashays back behind the counter, her ponytail swishing behind her with every step.

I bet her hair is soft.

I don’t know where the thought comes from orwhyit comes, but I push it away as soon as it appears. Who cares how soft her hair is? I don’t even know her.

“Uncle Adam?”

I jerk my head to Flora. “Yes?”

“Your phone is buzzing.”

She points to my phone, which is indeed shaking across the table. I snatch it up, and the nameLUCAS LAWSONflashes across the screen. It goes black, then lights up again becauseof course it does. Lawson is just that persistent.

Or maybe he’s calling because he found me a nanny.

“And here you go.” Quinn slides Flora’s chocolate milk—in a mug just like mine—in front of her. “One chocolate milk for the little flower, and one?—”

“Can you watch her?”

Quinn pauses, her eyes boring into my own. They’re hazel, a perfect mix of greens and amber. I hadn’t noticed them before, but I certainly notice them now. Just like I notice the corners of her mouth tipping down in a frown.

“Pardon?” she says.

I lift my phone. “I have to take this call. Could you watch her for a few minutes?”

She looks at Flora wide-eyed, and I see her throat bob with uncertainty. I understand the feeling. It’s the same one I had when I met the kid for the first time, looking at her like she was half human, half alien or something. I had no idea what to do with her then, and I still don’t know now either.

“Please?” I ask as my phone starts buzzing again.

She nods. “Sure.”

The word barely leaves her before I’m out of my seat and pushing through the door. Bess has no problem with people bringing laptops into the shop, but she becomes a grouchy diner owner regarding cell phones—they aren’t allowed.

My phone lights up again as my feet hit the sidewalk, and I answer on the first ring.

“What?” I bark.

Lawson being Lawson, he just laughs. “Fuck, dude, it took you forever to answer.”

“I was busy. Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?”

“Keller did this morning, but at this point, it’s just his version of foreplay.”

“Nah. I think he just genuinely hates you.”

He gasps. “He could never. At least I hope not.” He mumbles the last part, and I have no doubt he’s spiraling in his head. He always comes off as this guy with no cares in the world, but deep down, he wants people to like him.

“Why’d you call me ten times?” I pace the sidewalk outside the bakery.

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