Page 32 of One Good Puck
When I turn around, he’s leaning against the counter and rolling his shirt sleeves up his forearms. My brain glitches for a split second.God. It’s so hot when he does that.
I tear my gaze away from his muscled, veiny forearmsand set down the loaf of bread, cheese, and deli meat on the counter. I grab an apple and set it aside.
“What can I do to help?” he asks.
I smile at how sweet he is to ask.
“You can grab a frying pan and heat it on low, if you don’t mind.”
He does that while I cut the apple into thin slices.
“So, girl dinner is pretty much just having your favorite snacks for dinner,” I say.
“Ah, okay. Then I’m pretty sure I’ve had girl dinner a bunch of times.”
I laugh and butter a slice of sandwich bread, then place it onto the pan. I layer a slice of cheese, then the apple slices, then another slice of cheese, then another slice of bread.
I look up at him. “You’re having a fancy grilled cheese tonight.”
When he grins, crow’s feet flank the corners of his eyes. It makes him look so distinguished. And insanely handsome.
I clear my throat and try not to think about how attractive he is.
“I cook this so I avoid ordering takeout so much,” I say.
“I’m guilty of that too,” he says. “What are your go-tos?”
“Pineapple fried rice, enchiladas, and sesame chicken,” I say. “If I’m feeling healthy, I’ll order a burrito bowl.”
“That’s an impressive takeout order.”
I smile and slice up some cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, and salami, and set them on a plate. I grab a string cheese snack and slice it up. “Sorry, I don’t have any fancy cheeses, so this will have to do.”
Gavin chuckles. “No, I love it.”
I pour a handful of nuts in the middle of the plate, then flip the grilled cheese when the first side is golden brown.
I point to the plate of snacks. “This is the only way I can get Emma to eat dinner some nights,” I say. “I used to make her hearty, healthy meals with protein and veggies, and she wouldn’t want them. But if I cut everything up into snack sizes, she’d eat it.”
“Sophie liked snacks more than meals too when she was little. And she used to refuse to eat anything unless her mom and I served it to her on her favorite Disney princess plate.”
Gavin’s expression turns warm when he talks about his daughter. I smile at how sweet that is.
“Emma went through that phase when she was a toddler. I had to buy five of the same Moana plates because she refused to eat anything unless it was on that plate.”
Gavin nods. “Sophie’s mom did the same thing when she was a toddler. I thought she was a genius for thinking of that.”
I take in the sparkle in his eye when he talks about his wife. Dakota told me that Sophie’s mom died in a car accident when Sophie was in middle school. She and her dad were both devastated when they lost her.
My chest squeezes with sadness. What an awful way to lose the person you love.
A tiny pang of guilt cuts through the sadness. I suddenly feel like a jerk for lusting after a heartbroken widower.
Then maybe you should stop ogling him and focus on just being his friend.
I flip off the burner when the grilled cheese is finished cooking, then cut it diagonally into fourths. I set the slices on the plate and slide them over to him.
“Voila. Girl dinner is served.”
