Page 35 of Bonus Daddy
“Like Munchkin Mondays,” Greta said, dropping onto the cushion beside her sister. “Every Monday morning, we get up early and stop at Dunkin’ for Munchkins on the way to school. I eat the chocolate.”
“I love the jelly kind,” Kit added.
“What about your mom?” I peered at Jess, who had her back turned.
“She likes the butternut ones. But they’re hard to find. Not every Dunkin’ has them, and they don’t make very many.” She frowned.
“Oh, really?” I asked, my mind zeroing in on an idea.
Greta bobbed her head. “Yup.”
“She’s obsessed,” Kit went on. “They remind her of when she was a kid and her grandpa would take her on special occasions.”
“Before we moved here, it took forever,” Greta complained. “We had to leave super early because there wasn’t a Dunkin’ near our house.”
“Now it’s easy because we walk by one on the way to our new school.”
“Yeah.” Greta bounced on the couch cushion. “And we know all the people who work there. It’s cool.”
“Do they sell butternut Munchkins?” I asked.
Greta shrugged, and Kit said, “Only sometimes.”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for them for you,” I said. “What other traditions do you celebrate?”
“Saturday is game night and charcuterie,” Greta chirped. “We call it girl dinner because we don’t have to cook anything. We get the fancy cheese from Trader Joes, and sometimes Aunt Lana and Uncle Max come over with their baby.”
My heart warmed at the image of their Saturday nights that formed in my mind. “You have a great mom.”
Greta grinned, but Kit eyed me warily. Tween girls terrified me for exactly this reason. She’d been happily chatting, fillingme in, then suddenly, she was on guard. I had no clue what was happening in her head.
“We know.” With that, she stood and walked into the kitchen without looking back.
Deciding our conversation had been a positive one, despite her change in temperament at the end, I stuffed my face. When I finished, I headed to the kitchen to feed the cat, finding Jess telling the girls to collect their things.
“Did you enjoy your first dance party Wednesday?” she asked.
I scanned the open space, noting that my friends had disappeared and the girls were occupied.
“The girls told me about your traditions.” I took a step closer, maybe too close, but she didn’t back away. “You’re an incredible mom, Jess.”
She crossed her arms and looked up at me, her glare reminiscent of the one her daughter had leveled me with only a few minutes ago.
“Brian,” she said sharply. “Stop it.”
“I’m being sincere,” I promised. “You make every day magical for your kids, and they love you for it. They’ll never have to wonder how much you love them. It’s obvious. I see how hard you are on yourself, but you are doing an amazing job.”
She squeezed the bridge of her nose and pinched her eyes shut like she was in pain.
“God damn you, Brian Machon,” she said, shaking her head.
My heart lurched.Shit. Had I said the wrong thing?
“You had to grow up even more handsome than you were in college. And you’re kind too?” She huffed. “Now you’re telling me you see me and how hard I work? And you go out of your way to mess with my ex-husband?” She dropped her arm to her side with athwack. “Shit on a brick. Why do you have to be so perfect? It’s not fair how much you’re making me want to like you when you’re my damn lawyer.”
Anticipation and hope swelled in my chest. Shelikedme? Part of me found that extremely interesting, and another part was throwingup red flags, shouting that I’d crossed a line. “Sorry,” I said weakly as I took a step back.
“You should be.” She moved forward, poking my chest with her finger. “It’s not fair. I’m an exhausted single mom. You can’t just look like that and speak like that and be so freaking nice all the time. It’s torture on my poor hormones.”
