Page 63 of Finding Denver
“Does it?” He rubs it on me, and I erupt into laughter.
“You’re a dick,” I whisper, shoving him back.
“Don’t curse around the children, Del,” he chastises.
Holly runs over to us and Colt releases my hip. “Denver, come with me to the next one.”
“Not me?” Colt asks.
She shakes her head, and I give Colt a smug, victorious smile as she pulls me away. My neck is still tingling, and I rub it, throwing Colt a glare as he grins at me and winks. He’s such an ass.
It’s an effort not to bump into kids dressed as monsters and teenagers with masks on. I wait at the gate as Holly bounds to the door.
“It’s child rush hour,” a man says from beside me. He’s around my age, holding two kids’ backpacks, watching the door. “I swear it gets busier every year.”
“First time for me,” I say, grinning as Holly bounces excitedly on her feet.
“Niece?” he asks.
“Family friend. Which is yours?” I ask, and he points to twin boys waiting behind Holly. I tilt my head. “What are their costumes?”
He sighs. “They’re … punctuation. I’m a teacher, and we had a book-themed week, so they’re question marks.”
I blink at him. “Why would you do that to your children?”
He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “It seemed like a unique idea at the time. Do you see any other question marks around here?”
“I think I spotted a semicolon a while ago.”
He laughs loudly, and I grin, my cheeks warming.
Look at me, conversing with another adult. A non-murdering adult. A teacher. I bet he doesn’t have a gun on him.
He glances at my ring finger, and his smile fades a little. He’s not wearing a ring. But I am.
Oh my God, this non-murdery-teacher man is flirting with me.
“Ah, you’re wanted by the tiny panda,” he says, nodding at the door.
Sure enough, Holly is waving excitedly at me, beckoning me over.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say. “Period.”
He grins. “Thanks, exclamation point.”
I turn my back to him and smile. I flirted and he survived. Things are looking up.
The woman who owns the house sees me coming and says, “Aw, baby panda and momma cat. She wanted to show me that you had ears on.”
I stall. “Oh. I’m not her?—”
The woman isn’t listening anymore as she drops candy into Holly’s pumpkin. And why would she? She doesn’tneed to know I’m not Holly’s mom, and I don’t need to tell her.
Holly smiles up at me, grasping at my hand again, and my heart … it aches. For this. For more than I have.
For a family.
I think about what waits for me at home. Quiet, romantic dinners. Long days working at a job that keeps me going. But it’s the working I love, not the work itself. I focused on being Deluxe because it was what kept me alive and what Ranger told me I’d be great at.
