I smack a kiss on them, just a simple one. But he makes a whole production of licking them like I’d just fed him a juicy burger. I cut my eyes, but there’s a slight squeeze in my chest. I pretend I don’t feel it and turn down the burner on the eggs.
“No backseat cooking,” he warns, like those eggs weren’t on the edge of crispy.
Even so, they’re delicious.
“Peace talks commence in twenty,” I say.
“All geared up?”
“Yep. Reporting for Project Peacemaking duty. Armed with smiles and pleasantry.” I flash a wide, ear to ear grin. “How’s that?”
“You look like the clown fromIt.”
“Shut up.” I laugh, then toss a chunk of lobster at him. Of course, he catches it in his mouth. Man’s smoother than silk sheets. That’s why I have to be extra careful.
“Seriously, Lot…” He places his hands at my waist when I carry our plates to the sink. “Now that you know your mom is happy, you can let that go and focus on finding some common ground with Maurice.”
“Thanks, Jones.” Despite all the shit Maurice has thrown his way, Dice is still in my corner, still pushing for me to try with my father.Letting me lean on him when I usually just muscle through on my own. “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Ask about how he grew up. I once asked Val, and he lit up like a Christmas tree. Talked my ear off for two hours.” He mimics the voice of a crusty old man as he says, “Had to walk ten miles to school with a big ol’ hole in my shoe, rocks rollin’ between my toes, dust all in my eyes…”
I laugh so hard I snort. “I might try that,” I say, catching my breath.
He kisses me, soft and quick. I raise an eyebrow.
“For good luck,” he says.
Then he kisses me again—longer this time. “That one was for me.”
Okay. I melt—a little. “Thanks for breakfast and the advice. I’ll see you and Queenie later. I’ll get her in the carrier before I go.”
“Naw, leave her.”
“I don’t want her claws in my back.”
“Don’t worry, I got you.” He leads me to the door and helps me into my jacket.
Queenie lowers her body to the floor, ears pricked forward, eyes locked on me.
“You better not,” I warn, bracing for the cling-on ambush. “I do not have time for your nonsense today.”
Dice tosses a treat in the opposite direction.
Queenie flicks her eyes between me and the flying pellet, weighing her options.Zoom!She bolts for the chicken.
“Wow. Blown off for a snack.”
But it gives me a clean getaway.
When I pull up to the house at nine thirty sharp, Maurice is already at the curb in his Sunday best, leaning on his cane with a thundercloud scowl. Nothing new.
“Good morning,” I say, bright as sunshine, circling the car to greet him. “Right on time for my VIP.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you on something? I’m not driving with you high.”
“I’m not on anything,” I reply, taking a deep breath that tastes like restraint. “Just wanted to start off the day pleasantly. Think you can do the same?”
“I’m always pleasant.”
