Page 36 of Unbreakable Love

Nothing big, nothing earth-shattering. Normal stuff. Conversations I only ever had growing up with Maize.

A pinch of jealousy I’d always worked so hard to stave off hit as I was rinsing off Gavin’s cutting board. I was raised by a single parent who was never around and cared more about herself. Josie was given the gift of a dad who truly loved her. She was young and already starting off in a much better position than I ever had.

“I’ll do this,” Gavin muttered, and I hadn’t realized he was standing next to me, reaching for the cutting board.

“I don’t mind.”

“You cooked. I’ll clean. It’s not a?—”

“Problem,” I finished. “You’ve said that quite a bit today. Have at it, slugger.”

He chuckled.

I checked the soup and the bread, and then Josie helped set the table and soon we were all sitting down to dinner at their family table.

Nothing awkward about it.

Nothing awkward at all.

ELEVEN

GAVIN

This had been a bad idea from the moment Penny asked to bring us dinner. It became a worse idea when I allowed it to happen.

Now, Penny was sitting at our kitchen table, opposite Josie, tucking into a meal she’d cooked.

She was sweet to Josie.

Her cheeks heated with an adorable blush every time our eyes met.

She slipped into our dinner and bath routine without a hitch, and the woman could cook.

The soup was soup, nothing special about it, but it was tasty and filling.

Everything was perfect. Comfortable. Enjoyable.

Which added up to making this one of the top five worst decisions I ever made.

“This is really good, Miss Pesco.”

She grinned at my daughter in a way I knew she probably grinned at every student to make them feel important, but she was doing it to my daughter. Making my little girl feel important and valued.

“Thank you.”

“And the bread is super great, too. I did a really good job with it, didn’t I, Daddy?”

“Of course you did, sweetheart. You’re an excellent sous chef.”

“What’s a sous chef?”

Penny leaned toward my daughter like she had a secret. “A sous chef is the second most important person in a kitchen. They’re the number two man in charge.”

“I’m second in charge, Daddy!?”

As if. There was only one person in charge and it wasn’t me. “Sure, munchkin. You bet you are.”

“Awesome.” She sighed and dove back into her food.

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