She nods happily, her attention snagged on my bracelet. She strokes over the giant gemstone in the center, her brow set in concentration.
I head off down the first aisle. Sullivan remains by my side, his attention glued to Molly, like he still doesn’t trust me to take care of her without his supervision. I gesture to a pasta bake sauce on the shelf and he purses his lips.
“Needs to be fresh and organic,” he rumbles.
“Right,” I reply.
I continue wandering until we reach the fresh fruit and veg. I lift a pot of peaches and the look he gives me is like I just killed his cat, if he had one.
“Definitely no peaches,” I say to Molly quietly as I stuff them back on the shelf and lift up some strawberries. He nods in approval, so I put them in the basket. “What does your daddy like to cook?” I ask Molly, hoping that maybe it’ll encourage Sullivan to cut in and throw me a bone, give me something to work with.
He opens his mouth, but whatever the person on the phone says, steals his attention again, and he barks out something so harshly that it attracts glances from other shoppers.
The way the lines marring his forehead flatten the moment his eyes connect with Molly when she points to a picture of a cake on a display, has sympathy pulling at my heart for him again. He looks stressed. He always looks stressed.
“I like cooking and baking,” I offer. “I could make something when we get back? It sounds like you might be needed.”
The voice on the other end of the phone jabbers on, accentuating my point.
Sullivan grimaces at whatever they’re saying, then places the basket down and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a leather wallet and slides out a black Amex.
“Get whatever you need, Tate,” he says, an uncharacteristic tint of gratitude warming his usually gruff voice.
I take the card from him and stare at it briefly, running my thumb over the lettering of his name. It feels like any other credit card, but the weight of it in my palm has the hairs on the back of my neck pricking up. He’s a billionaire. I bet it has no limit.
I swallow as it burns into my skin.
Sullivan’s lowered his voice and is hissing at the caller on the phone as I hand the card to Molly.
“Hold it tight; it’s Daddy’s.”
She nods, her bottom lip poking out in seriousness as she steps up to her role.
“If anyone tries to take it, you could roar at them,” I suggest, patting the hood of her dinosaur onesie. She grins at me like the idea is appealing.
Shopping gets a lot more fun as I wander the aisles, plucking ingredients off shelves and dropping them into the basket Sullivan’s carrying. He watches me with an amused brow lift when I squeak at the sight of fresh truffles and toss them in. I wasn’t entirely honest when I said Ilikecooking. Iloveit. It’s one of the first things I learned growing up—me and Mom in the kitchen while Dad was at work. She taught me everything I know. And even though she’s been gone for years, cooking her recipes brings her back to me. The scents alone pull me straight into those warm, messy, laughter-filled afternoons with her.
Molly and I both wear matching grins as we check out and pay before I hand Sullivan his card.
“Never seen someone so happy about buying groceries,” he says as he slides it back inside his wallet.
“It was my first time shopping with a dinosaur. It was exciting,” I say, making Molly giggle. I glance at Sullivan, waiting for him to take her from me, but he grunts and picks up our bags.
I walk beside him as we exit the store. An older lady taking her time to walk along the sidewalk looks at us as she passes.
“Nice family,” she comments with a smile as she shuffles on.
I wait for him to correct her, but his attention is on Cliff, opening up the trunk of the car. He walks over to us, dipping his head in greeting to Molly and me, and taking the bags from Sullivan.
Something brushes my lower back. “We need to get going. Traffic could be a nightmare.”
The heat of strong fingers against my lower back sends a comforting warmth over my skin. Guiding me to the car is purely out of concern for his daughter in my arms, but the move is so caring and protective that I can’t help but bask in it for the few short seconds that it lasts.
11
SULLIVAN
A mouth-watering aromaflows around my living area, like a living, breathing entity, carrying the sound of music and a soft female voice singing with it. I look up from my laptop just in time to see Tate grin at Molly who is standing beside her at the cooker on a booster step. She hands Molly a spoon and helps her stir a large pot of something.
