“Tart okay?”
“Tart’s fine.” She tucked herself against his side, watching Lincoln and Marie across the room. “Your cousin has a new assistant.”
Bear followed her gaze and snorted. “God help us. Those two are going to reorganize the entire table by some metric only they understand.”
“Probably already have.”
?*
* Books from characters in this chapter:
Joy Davis (& Bear Bollinger) – HERO MINE
Sloane Webb (& Callum Webb) – HERO’S HEART
Marie Bollinger (parents Jess & Ethan – HERO FOREVER and all the Linear Tactical books)
Chapter 3
The Yummy Order
Lincoln
Lincoln stood at the dessert table, watching chaos unfold in real time.
When Aunt Charlie had assigned him this task, the table had been empty. A blank canvas. Infinite organizational possibilities.
That had lasted approximately ninety seconds.
Joy had placed her brown butter pecan tart at the far left—a reasonable starting point. Ella had set her Fancy Pants cookies in the center, establishing a second anchor. Then Aunt Ray had wedged something wrapped in aluminum foil directly between them, disrupting the spatial logic entirely. After that, it had been a free-for-all.
A chocolate cake now sat precariously close to something that appeared to be a fruit salad—though Lincoln questioned whether fruit salad qualified as dessert. A pie of indeterminate origin had been shoved between two plates of cookies. A casserole dish containing either bread pudding or a failed science experiment occupied prime center real estate.
Someone had even deposited a plate of what might have been fudge directly on top of a stack of napkins, rendering both items less functional.
Lincoln was calculating optimal reorganization strategies when he became aware of being watched.
He turned.
A small girl stood three feet away, studying him with an intensity that seemed incongruous with her three years of life. Marie. Jess and Ethan’s daughter—his first cousin once removed, though the exact terminology seemed less relevant than the fact that she was clearly waiting for something.
She had her mother’s coloring and her father’s quiet watchfulness, but the way she studied him—cataloging, analyzing, drawing conclusions—that was something else entirely.
“You’re going to fix it,” she said. Not a question.
“Yes. Immediately.”
Marie nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer. She moved to stand beside him, her head barely clearing the table’s edge, and surveyed the disorder with the same focused disapproval he felt.
“It’s a disastew,” she pronounced.
“It requires systematic intervention,” Lincoln agreed.
“Can I help?”
Lincoln considered the question. Children, in his experience, were unpredictable variables. They asked questions without waiting for answers, demanded attention at irregular intervals, and frequently introduced chaos into otherwise manageable situations.
But Marie wasn’t fidgeting or demanding or asking why repeatedly. She just watched him with those serious dark eyes, waiting for his assessment.
