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She took a huge bite of the meaty, cheesy goodness and her head lolled back.
“Good, right?” I asked.
“So good. I missed your sandwiches that required the eater to unhinge their jaw.”
My belly flushed with warmth at the thought of her missing me. “I’m a big man, with a huge appetite. I can’t go for no puny sandwiches.”
She took another bite, mumbling around the mouthful while enthusiastically nodding. “Your daughter let me know she has big plans for her birthday.”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
“Horse riding at the ranch, face painting, flower arrangements, and she wants Aunt Fancy to sing.”
“‘Happy Birthday’?”
“No, like a mini concert.” We both shared a laugh. “And after, she wants a sleepover… just you, me, and her.” Dial tossed a quick glance in my direction before popping a ruffled chip in her mouth.
“Okay, we can make most of that happen—we might even swing Fancy singing. But I’ll let her know a sleepover isn’t in the cards.”
Dial fussed with her peeling nail polish. “Well, maybe it could be.”
“What?”
“We wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed. And if she wants to spend time with us, I think we should make it happen. Before long, she won’t want to hang out with us at all.”
“So, you wanna have a sleepover?” My voice hitched at my surprise.
“No.” She repositioned herself, giving me the sense that suggesting we sleep under one roof was making her uncomfortable. “I want Maple’s day to be special.”
A huge smile cracked my face. “You know I love sleepovers. We could watch Freaky Friday, pop some corn, cuddle up in a blanket fort.”
“So, you’re down?”
“I’m always down for spending time with my two favorite girls.”
It was brief, but something sparked behind her eyes. “Your place or mine?”
“Yours—it’s nice and girly.” Dial’s place had candles that made her spot smell amazing, with fluffy blankets you wanted to tuck underneath your chin. Bonus, her couch was long enough for me to sleep on—not that I’d ever gotten the chance to try.
“My place it is.”
“I’ll reserve a space for the party and talk to Fancy about performing.”
Her phone chimed, and she reviewed the incoming message. “The shipping place just got back to me. We should find Cyrus.”
Cyrus was in the kitchen eating a granola bar and scrolling on his phone.
“I have an update,” Dial said.
“About time.”
“The delivery company emailed me back. Apparently, the driver had a family emergency and parked the truck with our materials at a rest stop in Gainsborough.”
Cyrus’s eyes bugged out of his head. “A rest stop. Unattended?”
“Sounds that way.”
“How do they plan to make this shit right?”
