Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(22)

“And you haven’t?” I do what she says, though. She’s right. I’m hungry, and slapping some ham and mustard on bread isn’t nearly as appealing as fresh grilled cheese.

“I just spent the past two hours having fun with an adorable nine-year-old. That’s hardly a chore.” She opens the fridge and pulls out several items, setting mayo and a variety of cheeses on the counter.

Less than ten minutes later she sets a plate with two golden sandwiches in front of me, oozing cheese and smelling delicious. I take a bite and groan as the flavors hit my tongue. “Why are these always so amazing?”

“It’s the mayo instead of butter.”

“I forgot that trick. I could never make them taste as good as you did,” I mutter through a mouthful.

“You were running on very little sleep back in the day. And all you had to do is shoot me a text, asking for my secret. I would have given it to you.”

Our gazes lock from across the island for a moment, but she looks away quickly. Not before I catch the hurt lurking behind her eyes, among other emotions. Her cheeks burst with color, and she busies herself with putting away the cheese and mayo.

Thankfully, Peyton comes back into the kitchen, her stuffed bunny tucked under her arm, and saves me from responding.

“You still have Hoppy?” A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth.

“He’s my favorite stuffie. I have to be careful with him now, though, because he’s starting to wear out.” Peyton holds him out for Harley to see. “Some of his stuffing is starting to poke out of his bum.”

“Hmm.” Harley plants one hand on her hip and leans in close, tapping her lip in contemplation. “I bet we could give him a little surgery and he’ll be good as new.”

“Really?” Peyton hugs him gently to her chest.

“Maybe next time I see you, we can work on making sure he’s all sewed up. Sound good?”

Peyton nods and rubs his ear against her cheek. “Can you read me a story tonight?”

“Harley probably wants to head home, honey,” I tell Peyton.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. You eat your sandwiches and I’ll read a story.”

“You’re sure?” I ask.

“Positively positive.” Harley winks.

Peyton hugs and kisses me good night before she takes Harley’s hand, and they disappear down the hallway.

It’s been a long time since anyone but me has put Peyton to bed. It feels … odd, but also nice. Especially since I know she’s in good hands, and that means I can eat my grilled cheeses while they’re still hot. Fifteen minutes later Harley appears. I push my chair back, expecting Peyton will want to say good night again.

Harley holds up a hand. “She’s already out.”

“She’s asleep?”

“Down for the count.”

“Can you come over and take care of bedtime every night?” I blurt without thinking.

Harley barks a laugh and crosses the kitchen. “She was worn out. I kept her busy this evening.” Her expression sobers. “Is she usually harder to get down?”

“She’s pretty good, but it’s a new house, new room, new sounds at night. Half the time I wake up in the morning and she’s in bed with me,” I admit.

“Ah, the old sneak into bed while Daddy’s sleeping trick. Are you worried about that, or do you think it’ll sort itself out over time?”

“I’m hoping for the latter, but I don’t know. It’s a big change, moving back here. She really loves having you around, and she loves that her nana, my mom, is a lot less … of a stickler for the rules.”

Harley moves to stand on the other side of the island. “That can be good and bad, can’t it?”

“Mm. Yeah. It can.” I’m starting to see just how stifling it was with my mother-in-law. The help was great, but it came with a price, which was someone other than me setting a lot of the ground rules that I didn’t always agree with. But at the same time, it was coming from a good place and she had Peyton’s best interests at heart. And Peyton is the only tie they have to their daughter.

“Is that something you need to address with your parents? Do you think they’ll be too lenient with Peyton?” Harley leans against the counter, expression pensive.

“Not too lenient. It’s not like they feed her a pound of sugar and let her watch TV all day. It’s more that they’ll let her have a cookie or a glass of chocolate milk, or watch two episodes of her favorite show instead of one. The rules aren’t as … rigid. What I’m worried about is how Peyton is going to handle being back with her granny when we do go to visit.”

“Ah. I see, because the rules were stricter?” Harley asks.

“Exactly. Things were pretty cut and dry with her granny, but here, there are a lot more gray areas. And my parents haven’t had the past seven years with her.”

“Does that make them less likely to say no to Peyton?”

I consider that for a moment. “Maybe a bit. But it’s more that they’re polar opposites to her granny, so it’s getting used to a new set of rules. It’s not just Peyton making an adjustment, it’s all of us.”

Harley nods, her smile sympathetic. “I get what you mean. It was tough to get used to my grandmother’s rules and how they changed when she went from being a grandparent to a stand-in mom. There were growing pains there, and you’re experiencing the same thing. The good thing is that Peyton is old enough to understand there are different rules in place depending on who she’s with. Most kids realize their grandparents are willing to sneak them treats that their parents won’t allow.”