Page 30 of When to Call a Blitz

“No?”

“This is a travesty,” she says, throwing her arm up to her forehead.

Travestywas one of the words she learned reading at the end of last week, and to say she’s been using it every single second she can would be an understatement.

“Don’t you like banana bread?” I ask her, a bubble popping in my sauce. I grab my large spoon and stir it.

“Banana bread is a travesty, Heidi. Garlic bread is where it’s at.”

Well, okay.

I look around the kitchen. “Would white bread with butter and garlic also be considered a travesty?” I ask her, pointing toward the bread cabinet.

She looks at me suspiciously. “Maybe.”

“Okay well, let’s try it. But you also need to eat some banana bread, deal?”

She nods dramatically. “Deal.”

The front door suddenly opens, Emmett stepping inside. He looks wiped out, his shoulders slumped and a frown on his handsome face. “You okay Big Guy?” I ask him as he drops all of his things on the floor with a loud thud that I swear I feel rattle my bones.

“Just a long day,” he says simply before turning toward the kitchen. “What smells so good?”

“Pasta sauce,” I say simply, looking over my shoulder.

“Garlic bread?” His face lights up, and I set the spoon down with a groan.

“I feel like you and your daughter being garlic bread goblins was something I should have been told before taking this job.”

“It’s a tr?—”

“You’rerightJuni, it’s a travesty that I wasn’t told.” My eyes narrow at her dad, who shoots her a confused look. “Travesty is our word of the week,” I inform him, sliding my finger through the sauce on the spoon and sticking it in my mouth. “Get with the program, Big Guy.”

He shakes his head as if to just let it all go. “Is there some kind of bread in the oven?”

“Banana bread. Your bananas were dead this morning and I figured I’d make something fun out of them.”

“Oh that’s just as good.” The smile that lights up across this man’s face is otherworldly. Something I’ve never quite seen myself.

And it’s beautiful.

“Holy shit,” I say, quickly covering my mouth. “Sorry,” I whisper, realizing that Juniper heard, an evil smirk on her face.

“She’s heard worse,” Emmett waves it off. “She plays video games with Leo, remember?” That’s true.

“You smiled,” I whisper, pointing an accusatory finger at his chest.

“I smile a lot.”

“No you don’t. Not that often.”

“Well maybe I’m just happy today,” he tells me, taking the spoon out of my hand, tasting the sauce. The man doesn’t run his finger through it. No. He straight up licks the spoon, and I’m notquite sure if I’m repulsed or if I think it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. “You made this?” he asks.

I nod.

“From scratch?”

I nod.

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