Trent
ASHRIKA ARRIVING ONmy doorstep was an unexpected distraction, but a welcome one, nonetheless. Whether Zayne sent her willingly, I hadn’t asked, I just hoped it was a long-term thing, not a once-off. We had yet to have that discussion. All three of us or just me and her remained to be seen.
It seemed like I’d worried for nothing where the kids were concerned. Watching them with her at the farm and now in my kitchen, preparing dinner was a surreal experience. Something I’d longed for and never thought would happen. While my heart sang, I dreaded the moment she found out the truth. A part of me, the logical side, wanted to tell her. To sit her down and open my heart to her, let her know that everything I’d done was because I loved her. The other part, the vulnerable one, the one afraid she might leave and never come back, resisted.
Whatever happened, I had to take it in stride. I just wished it was as easy as the pizza dough Ashrika was teaching the kids to make.
The sudden slap of something cold to my neck jolted me out of my reflections. “What the—” I broke off in time and put a hand to my neck. It came away with a piece of pepperoni sticking to my fingers. I glanced up.
Ashrika’s guilty smile followed with a questionable, “oops.” She didn’t look apologetic.
I arched a brow. The kids’ eyes, round saucers of surprise, bounced between the two of us. “You were daydreaming, I had to get your attention.” She shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to do.
I set my whiskey glass on the center counter we all sat around and stood. “And flying pepperoni was your best method of communication?” I prowled around to her side grabbing a handful of flour on my way.
She anticipated my intention. “No!” she yelled, ducking around the corner. The kitchen erupted with squeals, giggles, and mumbled curses as I gave chase.
“Get her, Daddy!” Neha shouted.
“Run, Mommy!” Nicky counted.
Ashrika wasn’t fast enough. I cornered her, dumping the flour over her. Standing still, she gaped at me then flicked a glance to her black sweater now a perfection of white haze. She raked a hand through her hair and coughed as flour coated her face.
Scowling, she narrowed her gaze at me. “You’re so dead.”
“Come and get me, sweetheart,” I taunted. Moving next to Neha, I grabbed a handful of pepperoni and sausage and set it down in front of my daughter.
“Can I, daddy?” Neha picked a couple of pieces.
“Let her have it, Pixie,” I yelled, unleashing meat saucers.
Ashrika’s hands shot up, defending herself, “Ooh, I’m going to get you, Trent.”
Doubled over with laughter I didn’t see Nicky move until the first piece of sausage caught me square in the brow. The next in the chin.
“I got you good, Daddy.” Squealing, Nicky let loose pieces of meat as fast as little hands could, defending Ashrika.
“You’re supposed to be defending me.” I charged him with a handful of flour, sinking it into his hair. Squirming, he darted away, straight into Ashrika’s arms.
Laughing uncontrollably, they both fell to the floor.
