Page 28 of Bidding on a Second Chance
Bryce adjusted his shoulders as if to brush off the affection, but his lips showed the faintest hint of a smile.
She brightened her tone. “Okay. Let’s have fun. And when we’re done, what do you say we swing by Donut Haven?”
ChapterEighteen
Graham didn’t figure rice stuffing or mashed potatoes—even his version, which involved copious amounts of butter, cream cheese, and french onion dip—were the way to Bryce’s heart, so he had made sugar cookies too. Using a turkey-shaped cookie cutter and some orange and brown sanding sugar, he had converted the traditional Christmas treat into a Thanksgiving dessert that was being passed around the table.
After Piper’s grandparents, Ralph and Gertrude, took cookies, Piper placed one on her own plate and offered the platter to her nephew.
Bryce scowled at the offering. “May I be excused?”
Here Graham had thought he’d been doing great, sitting a couple of feet from Bryce and not having a thing go wrong. Bryce had even answered his questions about how school was going.
“You don’t want a cookie?” Piper asked.
Bryce spared Graham a disapproving frown before answering. “I want to work on my truck.”
“Okay. You’re excused.”
He disappeared around a corner. When he returned with a rattling box, he took a seat in the center of the carpet and produced a partially assembled vehicle. By the looks of it, belts and a motor would enable the truck to move when he finished.
Graham enjoyed sports and had a certain talent for cooking, but he wasn’t a jack of all trades. Building blocks had been a brief phase, but he’d never taken an interest in the advanced sets. Still, he’d come to connect with Bryce, and if that meant building a truck, so be it. He pushed back from the table, gulped down the feeling of foreboding, and sat on the carpet across the pile of blocks from Bryce.
Bryce continued working silently. Graham angled his head to study the directions and the partially constructed truck. Because Bryce squinted at step thirteen, Graham began constructing the part detailed in step sixteen, which was constructed independently and then attached to the whole.
Bryce worked away, skipping step sixteen. Maybe there was hope for them yet.
When Bryce got to eighteen, he looked to Graham. “Done yet?”
Graham clicked one more thumb-sized black brick into place. “I think so.” He passed it over to Bryce.
The boy tried it one direction and then another but didn’t snap the piece into place. He leaned close to the directions, then studied the part. “This is backwards.” He began disassembling the pieces.
“Backwards?” Graham grabbed the directions. He still didn’t see the error, but the fault had most likely been his own. “I’m sorry.”
Bryce was already clicking the blocks back into place in the correct configuration, moving with much quicker fingers than Graham. “I’ll fix it.”
“You’re really good at this.”
Bryce ignored him.
Graham sighed. Not wanting to dig a deeper hole, he retreated to the table, where Piper met him with a sympathetic smile.
She scanned the table, eyes brightening. “What’s everyone grateful for?”
Gertrude and Ralph joined hands on the heavy ivory tablecloth. They’d dressed to match in cranberry-colored shirts and tan bottoms—a skirt for her, khakis for him—leaving little doubt about what they believed to be one of their biggest blessings.
Gertrude spoke first. “I’m grateful for another year with our family. For you, Piper, and for Bryce. We love you both so much, and every day together is precious.” She smiled at her husband, passing the baton.
“We’ve got a roof over our heads, food on the table, and I still have the most beautiful wife in the world. What more could a man ask for?”
Gertrude beamed at her husband, and the two kissed.
Would Graham ever find a love like theirs? He wasn’t crazy about the prospect of dressing to match, but there was little he wouldn’t give for the rest of it. Come to think of it, if a cranberry button-down was the last obstacle between him and lifelong love, he’d get that shirt on faster than Piper could sayHappy Thanksgiving.
Instead, her fear stood between them, as stubborn of an adversary as he’d ever faced on the police force or off.
Except … for a moment in the stockroom yesterday, she hadn’t looked afraid or disinterested. Even now, she looked happy. “A friend of mine recently reminded me how important it is to be grateful for things, so I jotted down a list.”
