Page 7 of Whatever It Takes

“I’m not here on official business,” I informed her. God did I miss her smart mouth.

She leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. She was wearing a tight white camisole tank top with a pair of gray cotton pajama bottoms. She looked adorable, despite the scowl on her beautiful face.

“Official business is the only kind of business you have here,” she snapped.

“That’s not true and you know it.”

She stepped forward with a fire in her eyes that turned me on and pissed me off at the same time. She poked her finger in the center of my chest, causing a few strands of her long, brown hair to fall into her face.

“Leave, Quinn. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Mom,” Emery spoke with surprise in her voice. “That’s not nice. You always tell me that I should be nice to others.”

Score one for the kid, I thought, while watching her flinch. She swung her head to her daughter; her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Can you give me and Mr. Walker a couple of minutes alone? Your breakfast is getting cold.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Emery ignored her mother’s glare and invited me in. “Do you want to have some pancakes, Mr. Walker?” She batted her innocent green eyes at me. “My mom made extra.”

I smiled at the tiny little thing. “Thanks, Emery. I would love to. I’m starving,” I said, breezing through the door before Charlotte could stop me.

I heard a grumble and the door slam behind my back. I followed my new friend into the kitchen and sat down at the table, making myself at home. Emery smirked at me as she brought a stack of pancakes to the middle of the table.

“These look pretty tasty.” I smiled, running my hands down my thighs.

Emery picked up the syrup, pouring almost half the bottle over her two pancakes and slid it over to me. “They’re banana and cinnamon,” she announced, and my body physically tensed. “My mom makes them for me every Saturday morning.”

“Really.” I cocked my head to the side and stared at Charlotte’s back. “That’s interesting because they’re my favorite too. In fact,” I said, feeling my mouth water, “I used to eat them every Saturday morning just like you.”

Charlotte slammed the spatula in the sink causing the dishes to clatter. Emery leaned over and whispered in my ear, “She’s very grumpy this morning.”

A burst of laughter popped out of me at her candid and accurate observation. I snatched a couple pancakes off the serving plate. “I haven’t had these in a long time. They look delicious.”

She looked up from her glass of milk. “I thought they were your favorite?”

“Oh, they are. My girlfriend used to make them for me, but she hasn’t been my girlfriend in a long time, so I don’t get to eat these pancakes anymore.”

Charlotte’s shoulders stiffened as I started to dig into my breakfast. Emery picked up her fork and blinked at me through those big green eyes that reminded me of her mother. “My mom makes the best pancakes in the world. You can come over here on Saturdays and eat with me if you like.”

Charlotte turned and shot me a look, annoyance was written all over her face. I forgot how striking and bright her eyes were, even when she was pissed. “Emery, I’m sure Mr. Walker has other things to do.”

I kept my face impassive, not letting her snide tone get to me. “I’m not sure about next Saturday,” I said, remembering that Bree was coming into town on Friday night. “But I would love to come back and have breakfast with you again sometime. Especially if your mom’s making my favorite pancakes.”

“Okay. Do you have any kids? I don’t have a lot of friends my age. You can bring them if you want.”

I gave her a sad smile. “No. I don’t have any kids.”

I wanted to tell her that if I did have a kid, it would look just like her.

“How come?” she asked in between bites of her meal. She was a curious little thing.

“Emery, mind your p’s and q’s,” Charlotte said, saving me from having to answer that question. “Why don’t you let Mr. Walker eat his breakfast in peace?”

Emery eyed my plate, but chewed on her pancakes. She was very well-behaved for a little girl. Nothing like my niece, Taitlyn, who was a handful on a good day.

Emery and I sat and made small talk throughout breakfast, while Charlotte avoided me and made it painfully obvious that I didn’t belong in her home.

I was trying to make an effort to turn her anger down a few notches, but every time I would look at her and smile, she would frown and look away.

The cute little munchkin beside me, however, continued to study me like I was an alien from another planet. Her eyes took in every little detail of my face, making me shift uncomfortably. We sat in silence for the next few minutes and finished up our breakfast.

---