Page 27 of Banking on Love

I sat straight up on my couch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was7:05 PM.The girls were currently at home working on their homework. I had stopped by there after work to help clean up and make them dinner before heading home.

“If it’s Cody, I’m punching him in the face,” I groaned, standing up and heading over to the front door. I peeked through the peephole. My heart melted. It was Nick. He was holding a box of pizza and rocking nervously on his feet.

With a quick unlock of the door, I opened it and smiled.

“Well, hello there, Handsome.”

“Hey, Beautiful,” he chuckled. “A little birdie told me you hadn’t eaten.”

“A little birdie, eh?” I giggled. “Does this little birdie’s name or names start with a K?”

He grinned ear-to-ear and shrugged.

“I shall never tell, Ma’am.”

“Uh-huh. I see how it is. My sisters have you wrapped around their fingers,” I laughed and opened the door wider for him. He laughed as he stepped inside.

“They just care about their big sister,” he said. I shut and locked the door.

“So my suspicions are correct,” I teased.

“I will neither deny nor confirm.”

“You’re a brat.”

We both laughed.

“But at least this brat brought you food,” he reminded me with a grin.

“This is true,” I smiled. “I’ll forgive you.”

We walked towards the living room with him following behind me.

“Cute quilt,” he stated, making me come to a complete halt. He ran into me. “Shit. Sorry.”

I turned and faced him.

“It is a very cute quilt, huh?” I grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to know who made it would you?”

“No. No clue. I just thought it looked cute,” he blurted then walked around me and into the kitchen.

Busted!I squealed on the inside. If that wasn’t a telltale sign that he was my Secret Valentine, I don't know what was.

* * *

The pizza was delicious and the company even better; however, the evening was short-lived. Nick received a phone call from his grandmother and left around nine. It was disappointing but I understood. Family first.

“Kensi? Kensi? Are you even listening to me?” My boss– Mr. Hamilton – asked, waving a hand in front of my face.

“Huh? I’m sorry. What?” He laughed at my words.

“You were daydreaming again,” he smiled. “Is the lucky fella Mrs. Carter’s grandson?”

“What? Who told you that?” I shrieked.

I was absolutely mortified that he knew I was crushing over Nick. Mr. Hamilton was like a grandfather to me. He had known me since I was a little girl.

“Oh, relax, Kensi,” he chuckled.

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