Fine and dandy, it’s mutual.
But he turns, holding a frying pan with sizzling bacon, and nods at the table.
“Have a seat,” he says. “You like bacon?”
“There’s scrambled eggs too. Dad makes the best with the butter—oh, and toast!” Dan announces.
Sophie pulls a jar of Nutella from a bag on the counter and plunks it down on the table.
This is the most indulgent, classic American breakfast I’ve seen in ages.
Possibly the first time I’ve seen one outside a sitcom. Definitely not something I’m used to.
If I even bother with breakfast these days, it’s fast and healthy ninety percent of the time. Usually a grab-and-go yogurt parfait with chia seeds or an açai bowl or maybe just a banana on the way to getting on with my day.
I don’t skimp on coffee, though.
Life would suck without caffeine.
Like he can hear my thoughts, Kane pushes a button on a small sleek-looking coffee machine off to the side. It’s too new for this house, so it must be something he brought, and that convinces me to slide into my seat.
“Pancakes?” Daniel offers. He’s a miniature version of his dad, although he’s mastered the art of smiling. “We have maple syrup, bananas, and blueberries.”
“And Nutella,” Sophie chimes in. Her eyes are big behind her glasses as she looks at me shyly, then away again. Adorable.
“Berries and a little Nutella sound good,” I decide. Both their faces light up, and I know I’ve said the right thing. “Did anyone else notice the elves who fixed the stairs overnight?”
Kane snorts as he brings the bacon over and takes the final remaining seat. His sharp green eyes land on me like swords.
“I wasn’t about to risk another accident. Those old stairs are steep. Somebody could break their neck if they’re not careful.”
“Chill, Dadzilla. I said I was going to call someone.” I grip my butter knife tighter than necessary.
The kids giggle.
“No need. I saved you the trouble.” He looks away pointedly. “I’ll replace the burned-out bulbs, too, and start sanding down some splinters on the old dock. I noticed it’s a little rough this morning, but it has good bones.”
“It needs cleaning—that algae, yuck!” Dan wrinkles his nose. “It’s all covered in black stuff. It got all over my hands yesterday.”
“And your jeans,” Kane says with weary patience, but he sends Daniel a wink that makes the boy smile. “Looks like good weather to make it shine. Think I could get a little help?”
“You’re not my maintenance guy, Mr. Saint,” I remind him.
He glances at me quickly, then looks away before I can read any layered meaning behind that broody expression.
“And you can stop fussing. Consider it a perk of keeping us around,” he says firmly.
But I can hear what he doesn’t say.Let’s not argue in front of the kids.
Fine, idiot.
“Yeah, Dad, I’ll help,” Dan says. “Do you wanna start after breakfast?”
“Isn’t there something else you need to do first?”
“Huh? Like what?” The boy tries to sound innocent, and he isn’t fooling anyone.
I can’t help smiling, remembering when Ethan would do the same thing.
