Page 32 of Taming the Boss

“Food,” Owen answered immediately, hopping to his feet.

So much for his illness. Forgotten in the pursuit of rocket pops.

“We should get lunch too. Somewhere. Unless you aren’t hungry.”

Again, Owen shrugged. I had a feeling he’d have the phrase “whatever, Dad,” perfected in no time. I couldn’t even say I blamed him.

Jude was new to the whole parenting thing—and if I continued to help them out, I needed to nail these things down. Exactly how long he’d been in Owen’s life, where his mom had ended up, was she going to be part of her son’s life, and oh, hey, the pertinent details about Owen I clearly needed to know. Like his birthday and his educational level and background.

Not that Owen could know all that much yet, no matter how much early schooling he’d received. But to be forewarned was to be forearmed, as far as I was concerned.

Right now, all I needed to know was if there was any other food he loved besides popsicles. Those I had a feeling would be firmly notched in the win column judging from the excitement in his expression every time I mentioned them.

Otherwise, it was anyone’s guess.

“What about hot dogs?”

Owen bounced in place, though yet again, he wasn’t speaking. I didn’t quite get it because he hadn’t been mute the other day.

Maybe he was shy? Didn’t have time to get shy with me the other day somehow? I had no clue.

“Hot dogs?” Jude asked out of the corner of his mouth as if my next suggestion would be as good as weed and a forty ounce. Possibly worse.

“Yes. My mom fed them to me in canned sketti, and I turned out just fine.” At Owen’s curious look, I finally released Jude to tousle Owen’s thick sandy hair. “Do you like sketti? Spaghetti,” I said slowly. “Then she’d cut up hot dogs and toss them in with the spaghetti. Delicious. My niece Carrington still says it’s her favorite meal and she’s almost ten. Though Travis puts ground beef in his version, and I don’t.”

Owen’s long-lashed blue-green eyes widened comically. “Ten?”

“Carrington? Yeah.”

“She’s a big kid.”

“Yep, she is.” I had to laugh, even as Jude stared silently at the side of my face. I was already becoming kind of an expert at ignoring him when it suited me.

What was the worst thing he could do? Fire me? It wasn’t as if he’d even really officially hired me yet, for fuck’s sake. Or anything close.

“You wanna see her?”

“Yeah!”

Jude stepped forward as if he was prepared to warn me away from such risky behavior. Children meeting children without prior approval? The horror!

I slipped my crossbody bag over my head and shook it. “A photo is okay for now?”

Jude seemed positively thrilled. Owen, on the other hand, let out a long sigh. “I guess.”

I flipped through my wallet insert of photos. I didn’t carry many with me, since my family was legitimately ginormous. I simply couldn’t carry photos of them all the time unless I wanted to trade in my small bag for something the size of a mini suitcase. Once I landed on Carrington’s photo, I grinned and flipped the plastic insert toward Owen. “This is Carrington aka Care Bear. She loves them. Still. Forever.”

“Care Bears?” Owen’s forehead wrinkled in a similar fashion to his father. I wondered if either of them realized that. It was actually fairly adorable. “Teddy bears?”

“Care Bears are special bears. Not regular teddy bears. We should find you one,” I suggested.

“So far, we have to find more sneakers, spaghetti and hot dogs and…” Jude’s lips twitched. “Rocket pops?”

I nodded. “Definitely need those.”

“Care bear,” Owen piped up.

“Okay, a teddy bear.”

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