Page 22 of Comeback
“Oh. Portmanteau,” she said with a sweet smile. “I don’t know where I first heard it. I like to read. When I learn a new word, it usually sticks.”
I gave Mackenzie a bounce. “Are you gonna grow up to be a smart girl like your mom, Mackenzie?”
I caught Emma’s eye. She smiled modestly and lowered her gaze to the sidewalk.
“Yeah,” Mackenzie said matter-of-factly, her head nodding against my chest.
“Good,” I said. “Okay then. We need to get some food. Where should we go?”
“Anywhere with a kid’s menu is fine,” Emma said.
“How about the Black Dog?” I asked.
Emma frowned. “That’s a little pricey, isn’t it?”
“It’s on me,” I said, and I started down the sidewalk with Mackenzie on my side. The restaurant was a short walk away.
Emma hurried next to me and jabbed an elbow into my side.
“Jack,” she said, her voice stern. “Look, that’s very kind of you, but I really don’t needyour help.”
I wasn’t about to let her talk me out of it. “Don’t fight me on this, Emma. I’m a little hangry myself.”
She deflected my attempt at humor. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to think that I’m this pathetic damsel in distress that needs saving.”
“I don’t think that.” I took a breath and tried to explain. “If anything, you’re helping me.”
“How?”
“I just needed something to do today. Gets a little lonely out here, I guess.”
“So you don’t work,” she said, “and you don’t have anyonein Bayfield?”
“Not really,” I said. A heat quickly grew under my collar—man, I hated to even dancearound my situation.
“Then what do youdo? Besides skating around town with your hockey stick.”
I winked. “That’s pretty much it.”
“I doubt that …” she said, trailing off, wanting to know more.
But before she could dig deeper, we arrived at the restaurant.
I held the door open for Emma and breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter 11
Emma
I didn’t know what to make of Jack. According to the rumors Nicole had heard, he was a crazy fuckboy … but seeing how he interacted with Mack? I found it hard to believe. He seemed like a good guy, actually—but as soon as I wanted to trust him, and asked him some small question about himself to get to know him better, my doubts crept back in.
Why was he so evasive and weird anytime I tried to talk about what he did for a living, anyway?I wassurethere was a lot more to Jack than he was letting on, and I wanted to know more, but we’d arrived at the restaurant. He was off the hook—for now.
The late afternoon sun stabbed through the bistro’s windows, shining on the rustic, hardwood floors. The layout was long and narrow, with exposed brick on the wall. It was still early enough that the dinner crowd had yet to show up, which made the ambiance feel slow, comfortable, and a little lazy.
Jack told the host we were a party of three. With Mackenzie snuggled tight in one arm, he grabbed a wooden child’s seat with the other arm. It wasn’t anything that I couldn’tdo, but he made it look so unbelievably effortless.
The host led us through the bistro to our table. Jack didn’t notice the table of scantily clad, bleach-blonde college girls, but I sure did. Their eyes followed the handsome man as he walked past, carrying the kid in one arm and a child seat in the other. One look at their faces and I knew precisely what they were thinking …
