Entangled (The Accidental Billionaires, #2)(29)

I shot my daughter a quick sideways smile. Since she was almost nine, I let her sit in the front now.

“She thinks you’ll be able to play a whole song?” I asked.

“That’s what she said. I hope I can. I’d love to play for you and Dad.”

My heart squeezed painfully. If it wasn’t for Aiden, my daughter wouldn’t be doing piano lessons. She’d only recently started, but she’d always wanted to learn. I just hadn’t been able to afford to send her to private piano study. It was extra money I’d simply never had.

But the moment she’d mentioned her wish to Aiden, it had been granted. He’d asked me first, but I had no reason to deny my daughter what she wanted.

As promised, we’d spent last Saturday at Disneyland, and the adults had experienced just as much fun as Maya had. The weather had been perfect, and Aiden had arranged the VIP experience, so we’d gotten onto every ride we’d wanted.

Maya had been so exhausted that she’d slept the whole way back home.

“You’ll do great, Sugar Bug,” I told her. “You always accomplish whatever you want to do.”

“I love playing piano, Mom. And I really like having so much family. Even Uncle Noah offered to take me to SeaWorld this summer. And Uncle Seth said we could go to the zoo.”

Because she has her uncles and aunts wrapped around her finger. Even Seth.

I had no doubt that Maya was eating up the family attention. She seemed to adore all of her new relatives.

“Be careful that you don’t ask for too much, Maya. Your aunts and uncles have very busy lives.”

She was thoughtfully quiet for a few moments before she asked, “How much is too much? They offered and I said yes.”

I nodded. “Then it’s okay. That means they want to take you. But don’t ask them for things, okay?”

“I wouldn’t,” she said. “You always told me not to ask for things from other people. Maybe my real family is different, but it wouldn’t be polite.”

Sadly, I had always requested that she not ask her stepfamily for anything. And she’d understood the situation way too well to ever talk to any of them.

Sometimes, Maya seemed so much older than her years. “You’re such a good girl,” I complimented her.

“That’s what Dad told me, too,” she said with a sigh. “But it’s not really all that hard. I think it’s easier to be good than bad.”

I bit back a laugh. I was pretty sure all parents wished their children thought that way.

I pulled into the winding driveway of Aiden’s home with a sigh. If I had to pick a dream home, his mansion would be it.

It was imposing with its beautiful brick exterior and large windows, but not so grandiose that it was unwelcoming.

And he had an enormous pool, plenty of land, and a hot tub.

I hit the garage-door opener and pulled into one of about seven stalls. My old vehicle took up one, and Aiden’s truck another. The third was now occupied by his new black Audi, but the rest were unoccupied.

Knowing Aiden, he’d probably been too busy to fill the garage with boy toys or fancy cars.

I picked up some groceries from the back seat before I followed Maya into the kitchen entrance.

“Dad, what are you doing? It looks like a bomb went off,” Maya observed with a giggle.

My eyes widened as I looked around the room.

Something smelled good, but the kitchen looked like a massacre had taken place.

There was red stuff all over the countertops and the large stove.

I bit my tongue as I saw the sheepish, harried look on Aiden’s gorgeous face.

“Spaghetti night,” he told us. “I always did spaghetti night when my sisters were young. I guess I kind of lost my touch.”

“I’ll help you, Dad. Mom and I do spaghetti sometimes,” Maya offered as she went to the sink and rinsed out a dishrag to wipe off the counters.

“Damn jar exploded on me,” he said as he looked at me with eyes that were pleading for guidance.

“Happens to the best of us,” I said in a soothing voice. “It smells good.”

I took the big spoon out of his hand and watched the noodles, while Aiden and his daughter wiped up the kitchen.

Really, in all the years I’d been cooking, I’d never had a jar explode its contents all over the kitchen, but poor Aiden looked so frustrated that I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I was way too flabbergasted that he’d even tried to make dinner. I was also more than a little emotionally moved that he cared about screwing up dinner.

I tasted the sauce. “It needs . . . something.”

Maya grabbed the Italian spices and brought them to me without me even asking. We’d been a team for so long that she knew what I wanted.

“Does it taste like shit?” Aiden asked as he tossed his dishrag in the sink.

“Not at all. But I think it needs more oregano. It’s good, Aiden. No worries.”

I was tempted to remind him that if dinner got screwed up, we could always order out. But he seemed too freaked out about not being able to feed us. And the sauce was good. It just needed a few more spices.

I added a few things, stirred it, and pronounced, “All done. Thank you, Aiden.”

I dished up a plate for Maya, and she carried it carefully to the table and then went to get silverware for everybody and a glass of milk.