“You actuallymadehot chocolate?” I’m fairly certain I’ve never had anything but a packet of Swiss Miss and it was considered fancy if we used milk instead of water.
“It’s a family recipe. Nothing tricky, and mostly tradition. No allergies, right?” He hands me a mug a few shades darker than the cabinets.
“No, no allergies.” I take a sip and shut my eyes. It’s thick and super chocolatey, but not so much that it’s overwhelming. Just rich and creamy and completely delicious. “That is so good.”
“Our dad’s an expert hot chocolate maker, right?” Lily beams with pride.
Rightfully so. “He really is. This is the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Wait until you try his lasagna. It’ssogood.” Lily’s eyes are wide like she needs me to understand.
“He makes really good noodles.” Poppy stuffs her mouth with a handful of marshmallows, then adds, “Oh, and applesauce, too.”
“You make applesauce?” I’ve never met anyone who cooks like that.
He huffs a small chuckle and raises his mug for a sip before responding. “If bymakeyou mean I pour it from the store-bought container into a bowl? Then yes.”
I laugh, then cover my mouth so I don’t make the girls feel bad.
“I do make lasagna, and you better believe I can boil some noodles like a boss.”
Too charmed for my own good, I grin. “I’m sure you can, Sheriff.”
“He makes us eat a lot of chicken, though.” Lily gives me a despairing look.
“You don’t like chicken?” I can’t exactly commiserate when her dad is clearly trying to feed them well.
She shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t love it. Especially like five nights a week.”
I take another drink of my hot chocolate to avoid saying anything.
Grant gives Lily a glare. “We do not eat chicken five nights a week.”
“We have pizza on Wednesdays and something different on Fridays at Gram and Gramp’s. Otherwise…” She slumps dramatically, her upper body slouching onto the bar top. “It’s chicken.”
Poppy giggles.
Grant chuckles and shakes his head, but there’s love in his eyes. “I didn’t realize I was torturing you with chicken.”
“You are.” She lifts her head ever so slightly, then flops back down.
Poppy howls with laughter. It’s such an irresistible sound, I join in.
They go on like this, chatting and laughing, Lily completely hamming it up and Poppy giving her the over-the-top response she clearly wants. And I fall a little bit in love with all of them.
There’s a glow in my chest after Grant hauls Lily into his side and tickles her until she’s giggling like a maniac, but Poppy yawns and I snap out of it. I’m not a part of this, and it’s time for me to go.
My phone has been buzzing in my pocket, but no one calls me. May or Evie would text. So whoever this is must be a wrong number, and I haven’t wanted to interrupt this slice of normalcy and sweetness.
“I better get back and check on Mr. Bingley.” I rinse my mug and set it in the top rack of the dishwasher.
“Aw, do you have to go?” Poppy says, but she’s rubbing her eyes and one glance at Lily tells me she’s fading, too.
“I do. But I’ll see you again soon. Maybe you can come over and play with Mr. Bingley sometime, if your dad thinks it’s okay.” Grant’s eyes are on me, and thankfully, his face doesn’t immediately signal I’ve made a misstep.
“That sounds like fun,” he confirms.
“Yay!” Poppy shoots her hands out to me from where she’s still perched on a stool. “Hug!”
