Written with Regret (The Regret Duet #1)(65)

Not surprisingly, when it ended, Rosalee was the first one charging off the stage.

“Daddy, look!” Rosalee shouted, a paper certificate stretched out in front of her.

Caven scooped her off her feet as all the other parents hurried to wrangle their own children.

“What’s it say?” she asked, handing it to me as he settled her on his hip.

I was in awe of how fluidly he handled her. “It says exactly what your teacher read when she handed it to you.”

“Read it again!”

“To Rosalee Hunt, Best Unicorn Artist of the Year.”

She squealed and put her hands on either side of Caven’s face, squishing his cheeks. “I’m the best unicorn artist!”

“I heard,” Caven mumbled through duck lips.

“Does this mean we can go to Mo’s? Please, Daddy. Please. Please. Please.”

“Are you going to let go of my face?”

“Are you going to say yes?”

“Yes. Fine. We can go to Mo’s.”

I laughed when she threw both hands in the air.

“Hadley, you want to come to Mo’s?”

Yes. Yes. God, yes. I didn’t even know what Mo’s was, but I wanted to go wherever she was.

Unfortunately, sweet progress, warm hugs, and sharing an armrest didn’t equal an open invitation. I looked to Caven. “Oh, I don’t know.” But I watched in fascination as his lips split into a breathtaking smile.

“Come on, Hadley. It’s a pizza place just around the corner. They have the most incredible pies you can find in Jersey.”

“Pies are pizza,” Rosalee added.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from grinning like The Joker. “Well, what do you know? I love pizza.”

Rosalee’s hands shot right back up in the air. “What about you, Uncle Ian? Are you coming?”

His dark gaze flicked between Caven and me, his disapproval tangible. “Nah. I’m going to have to pass tonight.” He rubbed her back as she sat in Caven’s arms. “But listen, maybe you and I can go grab lunch again next week?”

“Can I have another Coke?”

“No!” Caven growled.

Ian winked. “Maybe.”

The four of us braved our way through the crowd together.

Thankfully, Caven missed it when Rosalee sneakily pointed out Jacob to me. He was a cute kid, though I noted to give her another talk when he blew her a kiss as we passed by. Something I was also thankful Caven missed.

Ian left without so much as acknowledging me again, and I did my best to pretend like it didn’t sting. After all, Beth wasn’t sold on Caven, either. It was his job to be skeptical of me. Maybe with less glaring, but whatever. I could handle Ian.

I followed Caven and Rosalee to the restaurant. He wasn’t kidding; it really was just around the corner. It was also a glorified shack that I swear the roof was going to cave in any moment. I couldn’t imagine successful businessman/multimillionaire Caven Hunt walking into that place voluntarily. He was far from a snob, but even I was hesitant about this place. I decided to check the food inspector’s score before ordering anything.

They were waiting for me at the entrance by the time I’d convinced myself that this wasn’t a practical joke and climbed out of my car.

“Your face is priceless,” Caven said as I walked up.

“I’m just a little shocked, that’s all.”

“It’s good. I promise. They bring out all the ingredients and you get to make your own pizza. Well, you won’t get to make anything. Rosalee does it all, but it keeps her busy.”

“And it has…” She grunted, pushing at the chipped wooden door with both hands, her feet slipping on the gravel as she fought to get it open. Caven put a hand to the top and sent her stumbling inside, where she finished with, “Video games too.”

“Video games,” I gasped, clutching my heart. “Why didn’t you say so?”

Surprisingly, the place was busy, but after a whispered request and a handshake that I’m almost positive contained cash, the hostess seated us at a round booth in the corner near the arcade. Rosalee went in first, settling at the curve. Then Caven and I slid in on either side of her.

“What’s your favorite topping?” she asked, pretending to read the giant folding menu. “I’m getting pepperoni, cheese, and olives. And Daddy is getting pepperoni, sausage, those spicy things, and the gross stuff.”

“Oh.” I looked at Caven. “Is the gross stuff good here?”

He smirked. “Some of the best.”

“Ewww,” Rosalee cried. “It’s vegetables!”

“Even better. I don’t eat meat.” I tickled her side.

She squirmed out of my reach. “Then get pepperoni.”

I laughed. “That’s meat, crazy.”

“It is?”

We both looked at Caven, but his curious gaze was stuck on me. “You’re a vegetarian?”

“Yeah. When I was eleven, my grandfather fed me undercooked chicken and it made me so sick I swore off meat.”

His lips twisted. “But you’ll eat leftover pork egg rolls?” He pointedly tipped his head to Rosalee.

Ah, yes. The night she’d been conceived and the leftover Chinese out of his fridge between rounds two and three.