The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(13)

“I CAN DO IT!”

Okay, then. She called the camp. “Listen, my nephew’s going to be a few minutes late because apparently he can zip his jacket all by himself.”

Millie came back into the room wearing black tights with strawberries on them and a strawberry-red dress. She pointed to the pockets. “I’ve just got to fill my snack holes and I’ll be ready to go.”

Brooke thought this was brilliant. “Every outfit should have snack holes.”

Millie nodded sagely.

Five minutes later, they were in the kitchen working on breakfast when Garrett reappeared. He eyed Maddox, facedown on the floor crying. “Problem?” he asked over the din.

“Whyever would you think that?” Brooke asked.

This got her the slightest of lip twitches.

Mason and Millie just kept eating their granola with chopped-up bananas. After she got to the store later and bought fresh stuff, she’d be able to get more than two colors in their bowl.

Garrett glanced at the still facedown-on-the-floor Maddox. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“He’s upset that his sweatpants match his sweatshirt, even though he dressed himself.”

Garrett nodded like this made perfect sense. He crouched low, balanced on the balls of his feet, and murmured something softly for Maddox’s ear only, rubbing the toddler’s back with an easy, warm affection.

After a minute, Maddox got to his feet and hitched up his sweatpants, like, Okay, I’m good.

Garrett held out a closed fist, and to Brooke’s surprise, Maddox bumped his baby fist to it.

“How did you do that?” she demanded.

Garrett shrugged. “I run the soccer program at the rec center and do a lot of the coaching. Maddox loves soccer.”

She was more than a little boggled by this grown-up, easygoing, and—dammit—sexy-as-hell Garrett as he headed to the stairs. “I’ll be working if you need anything else,” he said, and then was gone.

“I can do it,” she said to the room. “I’ve got this.”

Note to self: She didn’t have this. Not even close.

Mindy’s texts had included a whole lot of rules, including the correct way to load her dishwasher (complete with a diagram), how to manage the overwhelming amount of laundry three kids generated, and also what could and couldn’t be in their lunch. “Damn,” Brooke muttered, reading through the texts. “You’re not supposed to have anything white.”

Millie, hands raised like a freshly scrubbed surgeon, pointed at the last of the McMuffin Brooke was eating. “You’re going to be in trouble.”

Brooke started to blow that off, but suddenly remembered how much it had frustrated her when her parents had given her some arbitrary rule and then blithely ignored the rule themselves. So even though she wanted these kids to grow up and be self-sufficient in a way Mindy wasn’t really great at, Brooke wouldn’t take away her sister’s authority. “You’re right,” she said, and set the rest of her sandwich aside.

She’d eat it later, when they were at camp, like a responsible adult.

By some miracle, they eventually got out the door and on their way to camp—which was easier said than done, since all three programs started at the same time, but at completely different spots in Wildstone.

She was starting to appreciate Mindy’s problem.

Millie got dropped off first. “Remember, be kind to everyone,” Brooke told her. “Including Charlotte.”

Millie shrugged. “All I can do is try my best.”

“A-plus for using my words against me,” Brooke said dryly.

Millie smiled cheerfully.

By the time Brooke got everyone where they needed to be, hit up the grocery store to buy more “colors,” put the groceries away, and got all the blankets and towels and bedding washed and dried after last night’s puke-mageddon, it was nearly time to start picking up the kids. Leaning against the dryer in exhaustion as she waited for the last load to finish, she worked her way through a packet of SweeTarts that she’d found in Millie’s bedroom.

Garrett appeared. He’d shed his leather jacket and added a tool belt, slung low on his lean hips. He seemed far more delectable than the SweeTarts, and that was saying something. Then she remembered her list, her reason for being there. She opened her mouth to start what was sure to be a very awkward conversation, when she realized he was looking her over, a small smile on his lips. This prompted her to turn and glance at her reflection in the laundry room window. Her hair looked like she’d come out the wrong end of an explosion. Her face was pale, and she realized she hadn’t managed a shower or change of clothing yet. She looked as insane as Mindy had when she’d shown up at Brooke’s door . . . Had that been just two days ago? It felt like years.

Garrett reached out to take a SweeTart, and she clutched the packet to her chest. She needed those SweeTarts. She deserved those SweeTarts. Before she could tell him so, there came a buzzing sound. She really hoped it was an oncoming brain embolism, but it turned out to be Garrett’s phone. He looked at the screen, then answered with a soft “Hey.” He paused and listened. “Sure. See you then.” He disconnected and slid the phone away again.

She waited for him to explain.

He didn’t.

“Hot date?” she asked with what she hoped sounded like casual interest and not nosiness.