Page 22 of The Sweetest Obsession

Sure enough, my ma pulls the driver’s side door open for the little girl, my father already in the passenger seat—and before I can even pull my car over, Nell’s head pops over the rear passenger side window.

“Uncle Grant!” she shrieks loudly enough to crack glass.

She comes flying out of the car before anyone can stop her.

Oops.

I hit the brakes and scramble out just in time to catch the almost-ten-year-old cannonball that slams into me.

Girl’s got some legs on her and she’s not even half-grown, clearing a two-foot leap to hurtle herself right into my arms.

I let out anoofas her full weight pounds my chest.

I recover quickly, though, wrapping my arms around her, supporting her while she buries her face in my neck.

Her familiar tumble of dark-brown ringlets tickle my skin.

“Hey, Nelly-girl.” I squeeze her tight. “Sorry, I forgot Ma and Pa had you today.”

Nell pushes her hands against my chest and draws herself back to look at me with her little brown eyes glinting with excitement.

“Ice cream! We’re going forice cream,” she proclaims. “You’re coming with us, right?”

I groan inwardly.

Nelly-girl knows what she’s doing when she says it like that. Like it’s already a foregone conclusion, and I need a Harvard law degree to convince her otherwise.

“Baby girl, you know there’s a reason I asked Ma and Pa to take you today,” I say. “I’m up to my chin in paperwork. Gotta go catch up.”

My mother leans against the bumper of the Subaru, tall and curvy, her iron-grey hair pulled into a bun.

“You had time to drive out here,” she points out, wagging a finger.

“No ganging up on me.”

“Yes ganging up on you!” Nell chirps with a pout. “You work too much, Uncle Grant. And you don’t eat enough ice cream. If you just ate more you’d smile.”

“Is that so? Didn’t know I had to maintain a minimum ice cream level to look pleasant.” I arch a skeptical brow.

My father leans his arm out the passenger window, offering me an easy grin past his thick silver beard. “You’ve already lost the argument, Son. Only question is if you’re riding with us or taking your patrol car.”

I heave out a heavy sigh, but he’s right.

When it comes to Nell, I rarely win unless it’s something deadly serious.

She’s just too damn good at getting her way.

Guess that’s what happens when you’re not just the big cousin.

Can’t put an easy label on what I am some days. More like the older brother she never had when I’m not busy being full-time dad.

“Fine, I’ll take my car,” I grind out. “That way y’all won’t have to drive me back and eat up more of my time.”

“I wanna go with Uncle Grant!” Nell proclaims, laying her head against my shoulder.

That’s that, I guess.

We split up, and soon I get the full rundown of Nell’s day as I tail my parents’ Subaru for the ten-minute drive to the little ice cream parlor near the town square.

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