Page 19 of Small Town Secrets

“What the…?” She raised her focus again in search of whoever left her food, only now noticing someone had mowed the neglected jungle she called her lawn.

A slow smile pulled at her lips, and she turned to Ramos’s house, the man himself standing on his landing and smiling back at her. “I’d invite myself over to share that, but you look wrecked.”

“Way to make a woman feel attractive. But thanks.” She stood and chuckled, raising the dish in gratitude. “How fast did you have to run to get over there before I came out?”

Arms crossed, he shrugged one shoulder and offered an easy reply. “Let’s just say, I now know I’m capable of clearing that little fence between us in one leap.”

She threw her head back and laughed, only to think twice and cringed down at the fence. “You must be feeling lucky, that thing has pickets.”

He chuckled and shook his head at her in a way that said he appreciated her wicked sense of observational humor, though he offered no words in reply.

So, she went about filling the silence, because frankly, she wanted to talk with him a little longer. “Thanks for the lawn too, by the way. You really didn’t have to.”

“What else is there to do while I sit about waiting for shit to hit the fan?” His expression lost all humor at his reference to the syndicate coming back to Harlow, and still he jutted his chin out to the dish in her hand. “I kept it light on the spice for Whitney, but those are my mom’s not-so-secret recipe, and they were my favorite growing up.”

“Not-so-secret?”

“Oh yeah, she’s not stingy with her recipes. In fact, she’ll write you an entire cookbook given the chance.”

She pressed her lips together and held back another laugh, making a quick mental note on the endearing relationship this guy seemed to have with his mother. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, I hope you and the kid enjoy those as much as I do.”

Laila gave a choppy chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure we will. Strangely enough, Whit loves spice.”

A small pause dragged out and she failed to hold back a yawn, one that forced her to turn her head to her shrugged shoulder to obscure her open mouth since her hands were full holding the dish.

Adrian straightened and uncrossed his arms, a concerned tension wrinkling his forehead. “You go get some sleep. We’ll speak later.”

She nodded, feeling suddenly a whole lot lighter for his help. As much as she had to do today, thanks to Ramos, she had one less thing to worry about. So, even as she turned for her door, she twisted back one last time to mouth the words, “Thank you.”

Hours later, Laila sat before her pile of books at the kitchen table, Whitney draped over the couch in front of her favorite TV show, Power Cats. She’d already received a five-minute warning on getting ready for another overnight stay at her grandparents’ house, but Laila knew from experience that getting this kid into the car so late in the afternoon usually wasn’t all that straight forward.

The show’s credits ran, and several cartoon cats danced about in various martial arts poses, signaling the perfect time for Laila to hit the STOP button on the remote beside her. “Okay, kiddo. Time to get dressed.”

Whitney shot to her feet, like something out of an exorcism movie, and leveled a deep glare Laila’s way. “I was watching that!”

“Yeah, and I warned you that we’d have to leave soon.” Laila shrugged and walked the remote over to a high shelf in the kitchen Whitney couldn’t reach.

“I’m not going.” Whitney stomped her tiny foot to the carpet, the hem of her pink, cotton dress flicking out with the movement. “I’ve already been to Nana and Popo’s house today. I won’t go again!”

“Yes, you will.” Laila set about refilling Whitney’s water bottle for her overnight bag, aware Whit’s temper had much to do with how much had already been asked of her today. “You’re going to get dressed and I’m going to add a new set of pajamas to your bag. Help Mama, okay? Just for tonight.”

But even as she strode over and added the bottle to the side pocket of Whitney’s purple duffle bag by the door, her daughter’s small voice whipped her back around. “Mama, I want to stay.”

Her heart gave a tight squeeze at Whit’s crumpled expression, and Laila sank to the floor, crossing her legs beneath her.

This moment, right now, was everything she’d never wanted. To pass Whitney onto family as much as she did. To argue over Whitney’s desire for more time in her own home. As much as Laila felt the weight of her looming midnight deadline passing by, she extended her arms out for Whitney to come in for a cuddle.

Her daughter raced over in short, stalking steps, her head dipping into Laila’s shoulder, her small body curling into a ball on Laila’s lap. Laila kissed Whitney’s shampoo scented curls. “Mommy wouldn’t be the same without you, you know that, right?”

Whitney gave a few soft sniffles and nodded, her forehead rubbing against Laila’s neck.

“And I know it’s harder for you to leave the house at the end of the day.” Laila dropped more kisses to Whit’s hair. “It’s not easy being a kid, is it?”

Whitney shook her head, her arms now reaching up to hug Laila back.

Laila responded by squeezing Whit a little tighter, suddenly not so eager to let her leave either. “I’ll cut you a deal. You can stay in whatever you’re wearing now. Would that be easier? Nana and Popo will be happy to see you, no matter what clothes you’re in.”