Page 22 of A Simple Life

I looked around, no longer hungry, but curious.

Where was Abby’s mother? Did she leave her here to be looked after often?

The cake plate and extra fork arrived in front of me, and I slid the plate closer to Abby. “Help yourself,” I said again. We shared the cake and ice cream, and I watched with amusement as she took the last bite of the ice cream, her cheeks full.

Then her eyes grew wide, and I tried not to smile as she chewed fast, swallowing.

“Brain freeze?” I guessed.

She blew out a long breath of air, and I began to laugh. I couldn’t help it. She looked adorable and sweet.

Then I felt it. That tingle that happened every time Quinn was close. I turned my head to see her standing at the end of the booth, watching us. Her eyes were narrowed, her hand on her hip. I tried not to notice she wasn’t in overalls and a flannel shirt today. She wore a dress. One that touched at her breasts, hips, and swirled above her dimpled knees.

Why the hell did her knees have to have dimples?

She crossed her arms, pushing her breasts together.

Had they always been so…bountiful?

“Farmer John,” she greeted me. “You’re not really letting my daughter eat your cake, are you?”

“He gave me French fries too, Momma!”

Her eyes narrowed more. “He did, did he?”

“Yes—he told me to help myself, so I did.”

I turned my head, trying to silently warn Abby to be quiet. But she was smiling and happy, pleased to see her mother, not holding anything back.

“Farmer John isn’t a grouch like you say, Momma. He’s been really nice!”

It was my turn to glare at Quinn.

“I was being nice because she seemed to be alone. You use your new business as a babysitting service, Quinn?”

“Go in the kitchen, baby, and I’ll be there soon. We’ll make some more cookies.”

Abby slid from the booth, stopping. “Thanks, Farmer John. I had fun.” She moved a little closer. “I hope you’re not in trouble.”

I met her eyes, shaking my head. “It’s all good, Pumpkin.”

She scampered away. Quinn slid into the booth in the spot Abby had vacated. For some reason, her closeness made me nervous, and I knocked over my glass of water as I reached for it. It was almost empty, but a little spilled over the edge of the booth.

“Shit,” I cursed.

“Leave it. I’ll get the mop in a moment. I want to clear up your misconception first.”

I met her eyes.

Big mistake.

The seafoam green was like the ocean in a storm. Turbulent and angry.

“My daughter is my number one priority. Always. I had an appointment with the doctor and the insurance company, and my babysitter got sick. I had no choice but to either cancel the appointments or leave her here. For the first and only time. Tammy was watching her. I’m sorry if she bothered you. Since I didn’t know that hell had indeed frozen over, I wasn’t expecting you to be in here today. And I certainly didn’t expect to find you sharing your lunch with her. I assure you she is well-fed.” She took in a deep breath. “Consider your lunch on the house.”

“You were at the doctor? Are you okay?” I asked, ignoring the rest of her speech and concentrating on those words.

“I’m fine.” She waved her hands. “I slipped and jarred my hip.”