Page 13 of Falling for Famine
Her happy laughter followed me into the kitchen. I sensed Ghost hot on my heels, but Clara didn’t mention the strange guy trailing after me. She didn’t see the Horseman I’d unintentionally collected the other day.
Felix was covered in flour as he rushed from one end of the room to the other, checking on several of the ovens and his delicious creations. For a second, I just watched him. The manwas in his element while baking. The treats he made were always such a delight for the mouth, and we were often sold out before noon.
He wouldn’t hire another baker. He refused. Said it was the family touch that made us special, so I was the only other baker.
When he twirled, holding a tray of cinnamon rolls, he nearly lost his hat and temper all at once. “Nomi, you damn ingrate. What are you doing here?!” His chiding tone followed him to the metal table as he carefully set down the batch to be frosted. “I can handleone daywithout you.”
I wandered over, a smile on my face. “Oh? The man covered in flour? That guy?”
His glare was lost on me. I found it way too adorable. “We sold out of our first few batches of the day a bit quicker than normal,” he complained.
Laughing, I grabbed the apron I always kept here. Ghost had taken to leaning on a wall nearby, his expression stoic and calm, but there was a glint of interest in his eyes. It was similar to the one I got whenever I saw something I wanted to know about. I sent him a little grin and put on my white apron.
“I’m meant to steal one of these,” I whispered to Felix, who had the good sense to act scandalized.
“For whom?!”
“Clara.”
His anger faded and the little smile that swept his mouth was both brief and telling. “That little brat is going to eat us out of house and home.”
He adored Clara. She’d had it rough like me, and she didn’t have any family to call her own. She was putting herself through school and barely affording it. Her schedule was overwhelmed, and she rarely slept, so we both took very good care of her despite her not really knowing it.
Felix always kept a selection of his favorites for the day in a basket for her. She didn’t know it was him. She thought it was me. He’d insisted on it, saying that it was weird coming from an old man. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable for taking anything or think it had hidden motives, so it’d become something of a secret between us.
My Old Man was genuinely too good for this world, and it was the exact reason I needed to live. I had a lot of years left to make him as happy as he made me.
After quickly slathering a few with frosting, the white-haired grump set aside four of the rolls into the usual basket, his withered hands gently working them in without scraping the frosting off.
“I think she likes yours better than mine,” he grumbled.
I threw an arm around his shoulders, the years of hard work and time weighing them down a little more every day, and hugged him close. I kissed his cheek, lips coming back all flour.
His glare didn’t have any heat to it. “What’s got you all touchy-feely today, Nomi?” His expression softened to concern. “Did you hear back from the agent?”
“No, nothing like that. Just missed you, I guess.”
Felix scoffed. “You saw me yesterday, you silly child.”
I laid my head on top of his, closing my eyes. “I know. It never feels like enough anymore.”
He was quiet for a second before I heard the genuine worry filter into his voice. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Did something happen?”
Felix only called me baby girl when I was upset. It was the gentle approach he took when he first saw the bruises, when he realized my father was hurting me, when he knew I was hiding. He always knew when I was upset, and I couldn’t hide it from him. I never wanted to. And this was no different. I wanted totell him everything, no matter how crazy it all sounded, but I couldn’t.
“Did you get lucky with Maude yesterday?” I asked in a quick pivot.
His snarl made me laugh. “You’ve been reading too many of them whachyamacallits.”
“Smut novels?”
He made a throaty noise of embarrassment, and I giggled. “I’m still angry you got Mary addicted to them. That woman wouldn’t stop talking about it. Always yammering on and on about trying this and that.”
“Oh, you sly fox. You learned some new tricks? Go, Mary.”
Another humiliated sound fled him, and he struggled to say anything for nearly a minute. I laughed the entire time.
“I didn’t say that!”
