Page 19 of More Than Words
She finally padded into the living room wearing bright-green fuzzy socks and a hoodie that was at least three sizes too big—one she’d stolen from her Uncle Brody’s closet.I shook my head.As the only kid in the family, she had every single one of us wrapped around her little finger.
Her hair was piled on top of her head in some sort of messy knot, and she was already munching on something loud and aggressively neon-orange colored.
“Okay.”She flopped down next to me.“I got the snacks.Movie night rules.”
I peered into the bowl and shook my head.“That doesn’t look like food.”
“They’re delicious.”She held an orange thing out at me before biting into it with a grin.“What oldie are you torturing me with tonight?”
She grinned because we both knew how much we loved our little tradition.I’d started it when she was young and the two of us found ourselves alone on Saturday nights while her mother was wining and dining clients or away at conferences or whatever else Polly was out doing that was more important than her family.
When she was little, Quinn would choose the latest Disney film to hit the streaming services, while I chose the cartoon classics from my youth.
As she got older, so did our selections.It had become a fun game to see what the other would come up with.
We’d been so busy since moving back to Trickle Creek, but I always made time for Quinn and our special moments together.
“You’re going to love it,” I told her.“It’s a classic.”
Quinn groaned.“Classic is code forold.” She dragged the word out, and I laughed as I queued upThe Breakfast Club.
“Are those gummy bears in there, too?”I gave her the side eye as she dug into the bowl and tossed a little bear into her mouth.
“Delaney said they’re movie night must-haves.”
Something in my gut tightened at the mention of my bookshop neighbor.“Did she?”I tried to sound casual, but Quinn must have noticed something in my voice, judging by the sidelong glance she gave me.
“Yeah.Right before she told me she was going out tonight.”
“Oh?”Once again, I struggled to sound neutral when I felt nothing of the sort at the thought of Delaney out with some guy.“A date?”
“Nice, Dad.”My daughter laughed and stuffed a strange mixture of bright-orange cheese snacks and gummy bears into her mouth.
“What?I can be curious.”
“You’re being nosy,” she informed me.“But no, she’s out with the girls.Trivia night at the Wildflower.Whatever that is.”
Interesting.
I tried not to look like I cared, but I wasn’t hiding it well.
“She said she doesn’t even like trivia night.Apparently, it’s all about the wine and the meat.”
I almost spat out my soda.“Themeat?”
Quinn shrugged.“Meat and cheese and grapes or something.Some kinda board.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.“A charcuterie board?”
“Whatever.”
I hit play on the movie, but I was too distracted to pay any attention to the opening scene.All I could picture was Delaney sitting at one of the high-top tables, laughing with her friends.Was she dressed up?Or wearing the big, knitted cardigan she always seemed to have on over those tight T-shirts that made it increasingly harder to keep my thoughts friendly?
Which meant, other men probably thought the same thing.For some reason, the idea of any other man looking at Delaney the way I looked at her stirred up something suspiciously close to jealousy deep inside.
“So, wait, they’re all in detention?”Quinn’s question jarred me from my thoughts.
“What?”
