Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(90)

Holding his daughter in his arms, her little girl legs wrapped around his waist and her little girl arms wrapped around his neck, he gave Sally his devoted attention while he continued walking to the kitchen.

“We’re having American cheeseburgers with homemade American fries for dinner!” Sally announced.

“Sounds good,” Prentice murmured, smiling at his daughter.

“Today, we went into town and to the market. We got some candy bars and potatoes and we met a real live baby on the pavement. And I’ve decide I want a collie next,” Sally kept the information flowing.

“Why don’t we get used to Blackie first,” Prentice suggested.

“Okay,” Sally agreed unusually easily then again, she was likely sated by afternoon cookies then she shouted, “Oh! And Elle and I made cookies today!”

There it was, the cookies.

Prentice’s eyes went to Isabella, Isabella’s guard slid into the vacuum that sucked time because his eyes were still smiling and they were filled with warmth when he enquired, “Why am I not surprised?”

“I don’t know. Why aren’t you?” Sally asked.

His gaze went back to his daughter, he chuckled and replied, “No reason, baby.”

Then he kissed Sally’s nose and put her down.

Then he got close to Isabella and with her hands filled with hamburger meat over a bowl she couldn’t move away. Not in a warm and friendly (but controlled) way.

In fact, not in any way.

Then he leaned around to her front and kissed her nose.

If she’d managed to get back on guard (which she hadn’t while watching Prentice come home and cuddle Sally), it would have slipped again.

Unfortunately, since she hadn’t and her guard was whirling in the vacuum toward some black hole, instead of slipping her guard exploded in the vacuum, completely obliterated and irretrievable, and thus would need to be regenerated.

Thinking all of this meant she wasn’t prepared for Prentice to go still at her side. Nor was she prepared for his eyes suddenly to slice to his son, brows drawn.

Isabella was watching Prentice and her thoughts of black holes flew away as worry invaded.

Prentice leaned a hand into the counter at her side and addressed Jason, “Jace, have you been studying Elle’s book?”

Jason stopped strumming and answered, “No, Elle’s taught me a few chords.”

At these words, Isabella went still.

She couldn’t imagine what Prentice would think of Isabella teaching his son guitar on his dead wife’s guitar. A guitar Fiona had for decades and carried with her everywhere. A guitar she would probably have taught Jason on herself had she lived.

Although she couldn’t imagine what he would think, she could imagine, whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.

Isabella concentrated on the hamburger patty in her hand as if it would be judged for form and presentation and, if found lacking, the sentence was death.

This was difficult to do considering she felt the heat of Prentice’s eyes on her.

“You play?” he asked.

Without taking her eyes from the hamburger, she opened her mouth to speak but Jason got there before her, feeling in the mood to take over for Sally in keeping the information flowing.

“Aye, Dad. You should hear her. She’s good. She says she learned to play because of Mum.”

Prentice’s voice grew quiet when he queried, “You learned because of Fee?”

He called Fiona “Fee”.

That was sweet.

It was also sad.

Her throat blocked and she decided the best she could do was nod.

Which she did.

At the hamburger patty.

Then she set it aside and grabbed more meat.

“The book’s okay,” Jason went on as he went back to strumming. “But Elle’s better at teaching me. I looked at the book last night and –”

Strange vibes started emanating from Prentice and Isabella thought it unfortunate her hands were filled with meat because she really needed to fist them.

Prentice interrupted his son, “You had the guitar last night?”

“Aye,” Jason answered distractedly, concentrating on his finger work. “We started last night. Elle showed me more when I got home from school.”

Jason hadn’t finished speaking when Isabella felt Prentice’s hand at the small of her back and his lips at her ear.

“Put the mince down, Elle,” he ordered in a whisper.

Oh dear.

She licked her lips and then, screwing up her courage, she looked at him. His face was carefully blank. She didn’t think this was a good sign.

“Okay,” she whispered back, dropped the meat, went to the sink, washed her hands and was still toweling them off (slowly) when Prentice closed in.

He pulled the towel from her hands, tossed it aside and, hands to her hips, he part guided, part shoved her into his study where he closed the doors behind them.

She turned and decided to do what she could to defuse the situation.

Which meant apologize and quick.

“Prentice, I –”

He cut her off, “You call me Pren.”

She blinked, confused at what he said and also confused at his voice which was thick to the point of being hoarse.

It hit her he was holding back emotion.

Her heart broke and she felt her eyes sting.