Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms #1)(12)

“Not anymore.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” she said, her eyes welling up. “We only worry so much because we love you, honey. You’re still our baby, and—”

I groaned, holding up one hand and pulling open the door with the other. “Enough. I’m sorry I even brought it up. I need to go get Winnie.”

Simmering with anger, I moved down the hall toward Mack’s office.





Mack





I devoured the lunch Frannie had packed for me—every last cracker crumb, drop of soup, and sugary bite of whatever kind of cookie that was. I’d never tasted anything so fancy and delicious. In fact, when I was done, I kept looking in that empty brown bag, hoping for more to magically appear.

I’d pay her extra this week, so I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage of her kindness. Normally I’d have refused her offer to pack me a lunch, but it was such a cold day and homemade chicken soup had sounded so good. When was the last time I’d eaten soup that hadn’t come from a can?

Carla hadn’t been much of a cook even before things fell apart with us, but she’d been better than me.

Which wasn’t saying much.

I glanced at the photo of the girls on my desk and fought off the quick stab of guilt, always sharpest when I worried I hadn’t done enough to fix the marriage, hadn’t tried hard enough to make it work for the sake of the kids. It was a constant knife in my heart.

“Daddy!”

I looked up to see Winifred darting into my office, dressed to go outside. “Hey, you! Did you have a nice nap?”

“Yes.” She climbed onto my lap and looped her arms around my neck, telling me all about the lunch they’d made, the cookies they were going to bake this afternoon, and napping on Frannie’s “cloud blanket.”

She was still rambling when Frannie appeared in the doorway wearing snow boots, a puffy white winter coat and a burgundy hat with a furry ball on top of it. It was adorable on her. I wished she’d come and sit on my lap too.

“Sorry, got stuck talking to my mom,” Frannie explained, tugging on her gloves. She didn’t sound too happy about it.

“Everything okay? Does this still work for you, or does she need you here?”

“This still works.” But her expression remained tense.

“I don’t believe you.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Sometimes my mother drives me nuts.”

“Yeah, mine too. They know how to push our buttons.” I wanted to cheer her up a little, she looked so down. “Hey, thanks a million for lunch. It was delicious.”

Her features eased into a smile. “You’re welcome. Winnie liked it too—she ate two bowls of soup. And I meant what I said about the recipe. I’d be happy to share.”

I looked down at Winnie. “What do you think? Can I handle making homemade chicken soup?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No way.”

I sighed. “But I need to be feeding you guys healthier stuff. I should at least try.”

“Frannie says we can make lemon macaroni today,” Winnie announced.

Frannie laughed and stuck her hands on her hips. “Macarons, not macaroni. Not that those are very healthy. Those were the cookies in your lunch,” she said to me. “Did you like them?”

“Yeah. I kept looking for more in the bag. I’m not a huge dessert person but those were delicious. Not overly sweet.”

“If they’re done right, they shouldn’t be too sweet. And,” she added with a smile, “they’re gluten-free.”

“Thanks. Hey, how did you get to be so good in the kitchen?” I asked her, genuinely curious.

She shrugged. “I spent a lot of time at home with my mom growing up. She always made sure I ate really healthy because of—well, just because. And winters are long up here. Cooking and baking filled the time.”

“Winters are long up here.” I glanced out the one window in my office. Snowflakes continued to fall lightly, but it was supposed to get heavier tonight. “You better get moving. The driving isn’t going to get any better.”

“Do you know how much snow we’re going to get tonight?” she asked. “I heard eight to ten inches.”

I’d like to give you eight to ten inches tonight, I thought. What I said was, “I think that’s about right, but it’s not supposed to start really coming down until five or six. You okay to drive in this?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. My dad gave all of us extensive lessons in driving in the snow.”

“True story,” said a gruff male voice.

I looked up to see John Sawyer’s tall, thick frame appear in the hallway behind Frannie. He put an arm around his daughter’s neck, getting her in a headlock.

“Dad,” she complained, pulling at his arm. “Let go.”

“Never.” He kept her there and looked over her shoulder at me. “Got time to go over a few things?”

I nodded, kissed Winnie’s head and pushed her gently from my lap. “Yep. Be good, Winn. I’ll see you later.” To Sawyer, I said, “Your daughter has rescued me by agreeing to watch my kids this afternoon.”

“She’s a good egg,” said Sawyer, squeezing her tightly.