Page 68 of Just Ten Seconds

He shakes his head with a grin. “See? Never enough credit.” He takes off the mask, lays it on the table, and disconnects his tools. “Okay, troops. Let’s call it a day. Pizza and movie night starts now. And, no, Mara, you can’t try to bow out. You’re staying.”

I’m staying? Well, so much for thinking I’m a woman in control.

“Hang on a second.” I summon him back. Placing my hands on Amanda’s shoulders, I explain to him, “What kind of message are we teaching this young woman? First, you command I bring her home, and then you demand that I stay for dinner.”

He hangs his head and looks up through those impossibly long, dark ashes. “You’re right. A man should never tell a woman what to do. He should ask kindly and know that she always has the opportunity to say no.”

“Thank you.” I give a curt nod and wait for him to politely ask me to stay for dinner. When he doesn’t, I lean my head and hands forward in question. “Don’t you have something to ask me?”

With a pinched mouth curved into a small grin, he says, “Nope. If I ask, you’ll come up with some reason you can’t stay. And if you say no, you’ll break Amanda’s heart.”

My shoulders drop as my head tilts.

Amanda looks up at me with a shrug. “Maybe I should be giving you a lesson on how to get my dad to do what you want. I mean, I am an eight-year-old who just got a cell phone. Trust me; I’m a pro.”

I laugh. “Maybe.”

We all walk into the house. Dean heads upstairs and showers while Amanda and I order the pizza and set the table. There is an insane amount of apples and two jars of hard cider on the counter.

Amanda tells me all about school and what she’s learning. I tell her about how Mr. Kenner decided this week to take his dentures out and left them on his table in protest because Nick wouldn’t make him a tuna fish salad the way Nick’s grandpa used to make it.

“Who won?” she asks after asking me what dentures are.

“Mr. Kenner. No one wants to see false teeth on the table while they’re dining.”

“Why do you think he hates the food so much? He could go somewhere else. The Warwick Diner has tuna fish.”

“Sometimes, it’s hard for people to try new things.”

She considers my answer. “But the café is new. It’s the same building, but everything else about it is brand-new. He shouldn’t be surprised.”

She’s an insightful little girl.

“You raise a good point. Maybe I’ll ask Mr. Kenner that the next time I see him.”

Dean comes in, and my heart skips a beat. His hair is still damp from the shower, raked back from his hands running through it. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a simple white T-shirt that shows off his toned physique.

He has a modern masculinity about him. His skin is tan from working in the outdoors, and his hands are callous from manual labor. The divots in his muscles show off his sculpted form, making him appear like a gladiator.

And then there are the softer touches. The smooth skin and bare feet as he stands in the kitchen where he prepares meals for his daughter. His long, deft fingers he braids her hair with. And the shoulders he’ll carry the weight of the world on for the people he loves.

Dean is a real man. One who isn’t afraid to show his gentle side.

It’s like catnip to me, and I really need to calm the fuck down.

The bell rings, and Amanda runs to answer it.

I grab cash from my wallet and race Dean to the door, shoving it in the pizza man’s face before Dean gets a chance to pay.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dean says as the pizza man leaves, looking frightened from our back-and-forth wrestling match over who would get to pay.

“I know. I just really wanted to.”

If a fourteen-dollar pizza was going to get me that grin, I would buy one for him every day.

We settle into the kitchen, and it’s … nice. No, it’s more than nice. Amanda talks nonstop about everything from a kid in her class who picks his nose and places it under the desk to the test she had last week that she passed with flying colors.

I tell them about the method I’m working on with Ariel and Eric—connecting them physically and emotionally as they recite even the most basic of lines. Dean listens to every word as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard. When I’m done, he tells us about the updates he’s making to the lake house he’s restoring. This time, it’s my turn to be enthralled.