“Hmm, I think yellow spots would look great.”
I turned back to the griddle, flipping the pancakes with more focus than the task required. The batter bubbled and browned, edges crisping just right.
“How many pancakes can you eat, Emily?” Alice asked.
“Hmm, probably two. Maybe three if they’re really good.”
“Daddy makes the best pancakes in the whole world.”
“I don’t know about the whole world.” I slid the first batch onto a plate.
“Yes, the whole world,” Alice insisted. “Even better than Grandma’s.”
“I promise not to tell her you said that.” I brought the plate to the table, setting it down in the center. Steam rose from the stack, and both girls immediately reached for the top one.
“Cutlery,” I reminded them, pulling my seat out.
“I gotta admit, I feel pretty honored to be invited over for pancakes.” Emily smiled at the girls as she stabbed a pancake with her fork and dropped it onto her plate.
“You’re the guest of honor.” I leaned back, coffee in hand. “I haven’t been able to get a word in edge-wise about anything else since I told them you were coming.”
Plus, any excuse to have her sitting across from me lookingthatgorgeous was fine by me.
I poured syrup over my own stack, watching Alice do the same with hers. Too much syrup, as always, but I didn’t stop her. Pick your battles.
“Pretty sure rock painting is now Alice’s favorite hobby.”
“I’ve got seventeen rocks,” Alice announced proudly, syrup already on her chin. “Some of them are really smooth.”
“Seventeen is a very respectable collection.”
Audrey cut into her pancake carefully, the way she did everything. “I only got twelve, but mine are better shaped.”
“Quality over quantity,” Emily agreed, taking a bite. Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh wow, Alice wasn’t exaggerating. These are really good.”
“I’m glad you like them.” No need to get all gooey because the woman you’re fall — seeing compliments your cooking.
I ate my pancakes and watched her. The way she leaned in when Alice whispered something. The way she nodded seriously when Audrey explained her color theory. The way she fit into this moment like she was made for it.
Emily glanced up again, mid-sentence, and our eyes met. This time neither of us looked away immediately. Her lips curved into a small smile, soft and private, just for me.
I lost myself in that smile for a moment, until Alice broke the spell by saying in a very loud voice, “I would like to paint now! Can we? Pleeeease?”
“Plates to the sink first,” I said, giving myself a mental shake.
Both girls groaned but obeyed, carrying their dishes across the kitchen. They clattered them into the sink with more enthusiasm than care, then turned back to us with expectant faces.
“Now?”
Emily laughed. “Now. Go get your rocks.”
They took off running, feet pounding down the hallway toward their playroom where they’d stashed their rock collection. Their voices carried back, debating whether dragons should be green or red.
The kitchen went quiet.
Emily stood, gathering the syrup and butter. I picked up the serving plate and followed her to the counter. We were alone.
As soon as she set everything down, I reached for her, one hand curling around her waist, pulling her in.
