I blink. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
Henry just smiles and lifts the Polaroid. “Hold Noah’s hand again. Just for a second.” Soon, the Polaroid spits out the photo. Henry shakes it gently and hands it to Noah.
“To remember this day,” he says with a soft smile.
Noah beams at him, holding the still-developing photo like it’s treasure. “Thank you, Mr. Henry!”
Then he turns to me. “I’m gonna show grandma!” And off he runs.
“You’re good with kids,” Jørgen says in his deep voice, carrying what looks like half a blueberry pie in a foil tin. He’s flushed like he’s been hauling tables. His wife, Linda, is a few steps away chatting with Ann-Sabrina.
Henry glances over, one brow raised. “I’m good with light,” he corrects. “Kids just happen to move through it.”
Jørgen chuckles, the kind of laugh that rumbles out of him before he can stop it. “That sounds philosophical.”
“In that case, call me Sokrates,” Henry says, adjusting the strap of his camera. His tone is dry, but his eyes linger on Jørgen a moment longer than necessary. Jørgen… blushes? No, it must be the light. The famous light Henry keeps talking about.
Linda calls Jørgen’s name then, startling him. He mutters a quick, “See you around” before retreating.
Henry lifts his camera and snaps a photo of the pie table, though I’d bet my Volvo he wasn’t looking at the pie.
That’s when I notice Xaden crossing the square. He’s in one of his black t-shirts and jeans, looking like a commercial for somethingbreathtaking.
He scans the crowd, finds me, and starts walking over. There aren’t many people in the world who walk like Xaden Bailey.
I mean, the man can walk.
And people notice. Heads turn as he passes, like they can’t help it. It grates. He’s not some sideshow for Baywood to gawk at.
He’smine.
I mean, was.
Someone’s getting a bit territorial.
“Pie Pie Baywood,” he says when he reaches me. “That’s new.”
I almost panic when I feel the all-too-familiar blush spreading from my neck to my ears, but somehow, I get through it.
“It’s a cry for help,” I joke, and he snorts. I hand him a mini key lime pie in a cup. “Eat this. It’s practically a fruit.”
He raises an eyebrow, but takes it. Our fingers brush, and it sends a jolt up my arm. Ridiculous. But his eyes darken, and I know he felt it too.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. I don’t know about him, but my thoughts at the moment aren’t very… pure.
Then I remember I actually have something to tell him.
The results of my Sherlock Holmes era.
“Could you come over tonight? Maybe after Noah’s gone to bed. I want to talk to you about something,” I say. Xaden looks at me, surprised, a bit wary even, and nods.
I just have to talk to Dad first.
A part of me dreads it. But this time, I won’t let him make excuses.
XADEN
Frankie pops the cap off a soda with one hand and leans back in his loyal folding chair, looking pensive.
