My girl rushes over and Wes lifts her up, carefully positioning her in front of the stove as Rose hands her a silicone spatula.
I ignore Wilder’s watchful gaze and take the seat across from him at the kitchen table.
“She all right?” he asks quietly.
“Course she is.” I force a grin. “She’s got Rose with her for the next three nights.”
My brother flips a worried gaze toward his girlfriend. “Maybe I should stay too.”
“I heard that.” Rose sets a plate of pancakes at the center of the table. Half the batch are a perfect full-moon shape, the other more like melting-cheese half-moons. And one long one, almost spoon shape.
“That’s a giraffe,” Ellie says as I lift her onto my lap.
“That’s what we’re missing here, giraffes.” I reach around her for it and break it in half. “Shall we give it the taste test and prove Uncle Wesley’s first-grader theory right?”
She nods eagerly and takes her half, shoving it in her mouth. “So good.”
“Agreed.”
She chews for moment and I see those blue eyes working as she looks out the window. “Are you going to make these for me when we move to the new house?”
Three sets of eyes glance in our direction—or rather, mine—but I ignore them and focus on my girl, leaning in close. “Better than these amateurs.”
She giggles. “When you get back, can you take me to see it again?”
I avoid a glare from my brother and tuck a loose curl behind her ear. Ellie knows the house isn’t ready—or even livable—but it’s been a while since I last took her over there.
And I haven’t made a ton of progress. Between wrapping up the summer season, planning for fall harvest, working on the custody transition, and just .?.?. getting used to being a father, the finishing touches have taken a backseat.
I’d initially promised we’d be moved in by fall. It’s now mid-October and not one piece of furniture is unwrapped. No boxes unpacked. Hell, I think there’s even a room or two upstairs that still needs flooring. The only room fully finished is mine, since I’ve spent the night a few times, working on the house when Ellie’s with her grandparents.
If Ellie saw it now, she’d lose any faith she has in me.
“Of course we can.”
Her eyes light up. “I can’t wait.” She presses herself into me and I welcome the embrace. It’s taken a few weeks, but I’ve finally stopped tensing when she hugs me.
I love that she’s a hugger.
I love feeling her trust in me grow each day.
But there’s still doubt in those eyes. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe deep inside I don’t trust myself. So it’s not fair to expect her to.
Rose lifts her apron over her head with a sigh and tosses it at her brother, breaking my train of thought. “You’re right, Wes, I’m just not cut out to make pancakes the Evans way. You might as well finish the rest.”
Wes narrows his gaze. “Don’t Huck Finn me. We split the mix and you’re finishing your half.”
“I think the phrase you’re looking for isTom Sawyered.” Rose reaches for Ellie’s hand. “And no, Ellie and I are going apple-picking in Luke’s orchard.”
“Any left this late in the season?” Wilder asks.
Rose gives Wilder a pointed look and mumbles, “Not much else I know to do with a seven-year-old.”
The annoying power couple turn their gaze on me.
I sigh and subtly nod as I turn away.
I know, I know.
