Page 25 of Delayed Penalty

“Because sprinkles make everything better.” I boop the end of her nose, and she giggles. It’s not the same laugh she gave me yesterday, but it’s just as adorable.

I push back up to standing and find Hayes watching us, his brows cinched together, lips downturned.

“What?” I ask, worried I did something wrong.

He shakes his head, then pushes the door open wide. “Come on in.”

Flora breezes past him, and I follow behind her, squeezing past Hayes’s big frame the best I can without making contact. It’s futile though. He takes up too much of the doorway, and my chest brushes against his. He stiffens, scooting back until the door bounces off the wall with a loud thud to avoid more touching.

I trade worrying about his odd behavior for letting my eyes roam around the house. It’s…well, it’s empty. Almost like a museum. There’s a couch, a coffee table, and an entirely too big TV that takes up half a wall, but that’s really it. There are no throw pillows on the sofa or pictures on the walls. There’s not even a rug to help soften some of the echo.

I notice Flora’s boots by the door, so I take off myyellow ones, smiling at how ridiculous our bright shoes look next to Hayes’s dark ones.

“Hey, how about we eat in the kitchen today?” Hayes says to his niece as she begins unrolling the bag of donuts at the coffee table.

“Oh. Okay.” Flora hangs her head like she’s in trouble, and my heart aches for the kid.

“Just so we have more space,” Hayes explains with a smile.

Her little shoulders relax a bit as she pads softly into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table that still has a tag hanging off it. I follow behind Hayes, sliding onto a chair while he heads for the cabinet and pulls out a few plates. I smirk when I see they’re still sporting their tags as well. Flora divvies up the goods—chocolate with sprinkles for her, a bagel for her uncle, and a vanilla twist with sprinkles for me.

“How’d you know this is my favorite?” I ask her.

She grins proudly. “Mrs. Bess told us.” She looks to her uncle. “Can I have my chocolate milk in a mug like yesterday?”

I don’t know why it makes me smile, but it does. I knew she’d like that little touch, making her feel like an adult instead of a kid sipping from her milk carton.

“Of course you can.” Hayes pushes away from the table and looks back at me. “I assume since you were drinking mine yesterday, you take your coffee black?”

I smirk. “Black is fine.”

He grabs a mug and pours Flora’s chocolate milk into it, and we dig into our breakfast. Flora keeps looking at my donut with curiosity, so I pluck a chunk off the end I haven’t eaten from and settle it onto her plate. She picks it up, examining it briefly before taking the world’s tiniest bite. Her bright blue eyes widen with surprise, and she nods, shoving the rest of the piece into her mouth in one go. It’s so silly because it’s a simple donut, but I love how much she loves it.

I peek over at Hayes. He’s watching her too, just as enraptured by her as I am, his bagel still untouched on his plate. As if he can feel my stare, he slides his gaze my way, and I pause mid-bite.

He looks tired. His eyes are heavy with fatigue and dark circles sit under them. His hair is a mess like he didn’t even bother trying to tame it before leaving the house, and his beard is in need of a good trim. His shoulders are hunched forward, and he certainly looks like he’s seen better days.

I can see why my mother was so insistent I help him. He’s clearly not getting enough sleep or eating well. Not that I really have any room to talk about either of those things, but still. I just have me to take care of, not an adorable kid.

“I like your earrings.”

I swing my head over to Flora, touching the silly thing that dangles from my right ear. “You do?”

She nods. “Is that aNemofish?”

“It is!” I push it out toward her. “It’s a clown fish, and he’s trapped inside a plastic bag like in the movie.”

She twists her lips. “I hate that part.”

“Me too. But that’s the whole point of the movie—to show you that you’re brave enough to overcome anything just like Nemo did.”

She grins, then digs back into her donut. I glance over at Hayes, who is no longer looking at Flora but at me. His head is tipped to the side like he’s studying me and is unsure about what he sees.

I shift in my seat under his scrutiny. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He shakes his head once, then finally picks up his own breakfast, eating nearly half the bagel he’s smashed together like a sandwich in one bite.Who the hell eats a bagel like that?

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