Page 65 of Summer with the Single Dad

“I don’t need her help.”

“How about we find a smaller jug that we can put milk in, keep it in the fridge, and that will be your jug, hmm?”

Her bottom lip wobbled, but she nodded. “Okay.”

He kissed her cheek. “That’s my big girl.”

Aya glared again at her sister and Emme let out another exasperated sigh. “I was only trying to help,” she murmured to Justine. “She’s so stubborn.”

Justine offered her a sympathetic smile. “I know you were.” They finished cleaning up the tile floor. Even though the milk made a terrible mess, when she glanced at the jug, less than a third was actually gone.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bennett said, offering her his hand to help her up.

An electric zap from where they touched raced up her arm, through her abdomen, and took up residence between her legs. He must have felt it too—in his finger—because warmth flickered in his eyes and his smile widened.

She shrugged. “Not a problem.”

They were still holding hands now that she was standing, both of them smiling like idiots.

“Can you find me my own jug, Dad?” Aya asked, breaking the spell between Justine and Bennett.

He cleared his throat and glanced down at his child. “Hmm?”

“The jug,” she repeated, her gaze bouncing between her father and Justine with growing intensity. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Bennett said quickly, clearing his throat again. “Right. The jug.” Then he went on the hunt for something that his seven-year-old could hold and not dump.

“Do you want cereal or toast?” Emme asked, directing her question to Justine. “I’m having peanut butter toast. Aya is having cereal. We’re both having strawberries.”

“Peanut butter toast and strawberries sounds perfect,” Justine said.

“It’s what she has every morning,” Aya said with a bored tone. “She never changes. Not on school days anyway. It’s so booooorrrrring.”

Emme glowered at her younger sister. “I don’t like change. I like peanut butter toast and strawberries. By having the same thing every day I don’t run the risk of being disappointed or hungry before first recess. Routine isn’t a bad thing, Aya.”

“It’s booooorrrrring,” Aya sung out. “I’m having cereal today. But tomorrow I might have oatmeal. Then the next day maybe toast with jam and a banana. I like to mix it up. I’m not booooorrrrring.”

Emme, being far more mature than nine didn’t respond. She merely shook her head and went about making her breakfast.

Bennett located a plastic jug and poured about a liter of milk into it for Aya. The little girl was then happy as could be as she covered her cereal with milk all by herself.

“Crisis averted,” he said under his breath as he passed behind her and pulled down two mugs from the cupboard. “Are you a coffee or tea drinker?”

“Coffee, please,” she said, sidling up next to Emme, who was busy putting four slices of toast in the toaster. “That bread looks healthy.”

Emme rolled her eyes. “It’s the squirrely bread from Let It Rise. Dad says it’s the healthiest one they make and if we want the sourdough for lunch, we need to eat this for breakfast.”

Justine pressed her lips together to keep herself from smiling. “Your dad is very smart. And he just wants to keep you healthy.”

“I know.” She seemed bored and like she’d heard this rhetoric a thousand times before.

“You could put a bit of the lavender honey on it if you want,” Bennett said, scooping coffee grounds into the fancy coffee machine on the corner of the counter.

Emme’s eyes lit up, and she opened up the pantry, pulling out a very familiar-looking jar.

Aya was already at the table, scooping cereal into her mouth. “Emme, can you wash and cut me some strawberries, please?”

Emme glared at her sister. “You weren’t very nice to me just now. Why should I be nice to you?”

---