“I’d told Blissy I couldn’t go to lunch with her, so I was already stuck at the Chug anyway,” she says.
Grey’s light flickers to life under his door. When the hell did everyone turn into night owls? Taking Madison by the hand, I lead her back down the stairs and into the kitchen.
She’s either too tired to question me or she likes being as close to me as I do her.
“There,” I say when I usher her to the island stool. “Have you eaten?”
She frowns, glances at the clock, then yawns as I turn on the dim light over the sink.
“I’ll take that as a no. You tell me about your day, and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.”
“No, Braxton. You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, really.”
Opening the refrigerator door, I ignore her and pull out the sharp white cheddar slices I bought earlier. “I know I don’t have to, sunshine. I want to.” Placing the cheese on the island, I lean over it so I’m in her personal space. “It’s okay to let someone else be the caretaker every once in a while.”
Reaching out, I pull her head forward, press a gentle kiss to her forehead, and my entire being syncs with her cadence.
I step back before she can say anything and reach for the bread and butter, then bend down to grab a frying pan.
“So tell me, why couldn’t Clover wait until tomorrow?”
“I—I didn’t think about it,” she says. “Plus, I like helping. Brainstorming with her feeds a creative need I get sometimes.”
“I get that, I do. But by helping, how far did it push the tasks you had planned to do back?”
“Not that long,” she mutters.
“Ballpark?” I ask while generously buttering two pieces of bread.
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
I lift my brows in my most skeptical expression.
“Fine, I don’t know. Maybe three hours.”
“Three hours? So, you could have been home by nine instead of midnight?”
“I didn’t know I had a curfew.” She crosses her arms over her chest. It’s so much like Pops, I can almost picture her as that unruly kid her parents tried to squash. “Plus, it wasn’t just that. After I helped Clover, Coach B. had some last-minute additions I had to work into the schedule, and then Savvy popped in to record a couple of podcasts, so I had coffee with her.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What?” she snaps.
Placing the buttered side of bread in the pan, I top it with cheese and the second slice of bread. It sizzles while I grab a spatula.
“Do you ever say no?”
“Of course I do.” She sounds as though she’s trying to convince me, or maybe herself.
Flipping her sandwich, I reach for a plate. As soon as both sides are golden brown, I cut it in half diagonally, set it in front of her, and grab a grapefruit seltzer water from the fridge. After popping the top, I slide that over to her too, but she’s watching me with an expression I can’t read.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask.
“How do you just know?”
“Know what?” Sitting next to her, I nudge her plate a little closer.
“What I like. How I take my coffee, what kind of seltzer I prefer, even my favorite kind of cheese.”