Page 55 of Delayed Penalty

“Yep. I got off work early today, so I figured I’d swing by and crash your girls’ afternoon. That okay?”

She nods several times. “You can come get frozen yogurt with us.”

He looks at me, one eyebrow cocked. “Dessert before dinner, huh?”

I lift a shoulder. “I told you—we’re celebrating.”

His lips twitch. “Seems like a good enough reasonfor me.” He turns back to Flora. “Let me guess, chocolate withextrasprinkles?”

“Anda cherry,” she says with a grin.

“Wow. Big plans, huh? Well, then come on.” He rises from the bench, taking her hand in his, and I follow behind them. “Let’s go get some froyo, then dinner, since I guess we’re doing things backward tonight.”

“Can we have grilled cheese for dinner?”

He looks over at me, probably because he’s hardly been home lately and likely has no idea what we do and don’t have in the fridge. I mimic holding a shopping cart and grabbing things off the shelf like that old dance move.

He tips his head with a grin.What?he mouths.

I roll my eyes.Shopping, I say back.

He nods, finally understanding, then says to Flora, “We’ll have to swing by the grocery store, but I can make that happen.”

“Sweet,” the kid says, and I have to roll my lips together to keep from laughing.

I have no idea where she picked that up, but I love it.

We meander over to the local froyo shop, where Flora piles about a pound of sprinkles—no exaggeration—onto chocolate goodness. I opt for butterscotch and far fewer sprinkles, while Hayessurprises me with his pick—watermelon topped with coconut. I wrinkle my nose at the blend.

“What?” he asks when he notices as we walk slowly to the grocery store, enjoying our treats.

“It’s just…watermelon? Really? Out of all the flavors, you get that one?”

“I like watermelon.”

“Ihatewatermelon. And coconut, for that matter.”

“Yet you like butterscotch?” he says like it’s the most disgusting flavor ever. “You must lead a sad, sad life.”

“I don’t like watermelon either,” Flora announces.

“See?” I say as if that makes my opinion completely valid, even though I know for a fact she just had a watermelon popsicle two days ago.

Hayes shakes his head. “Can’t believe you’re turning my own niece against me.”

“Can’t help that I’m cooler than you.”

“Yeah, Uncle Adam, Just Quinn is cooler than you.”

“Hey! Watch it, or I’ll becomeextrauncool and forget to put pickles in your grilled cheese.”

She gasps. “That’s… That’s… That’s not nice!” she sputters at his audacity.

We laugh at her, and warmth spreads through me. For the first time sinceThe Kiss, things feel good.Normal.Natural.And a lot like something I could get far too used to if I let myself.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Not a damn thing.” Hayes grabs the order separator, moving it down the belt and behind my stuff for the third time.

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