Page 10 of Fall for You (Flirting with Forever 4)

Chapter 6

Liam

“Olivia?” I wait for a response, and after getting none, walk over to the stairs and try again. “Olivia. Can you come downstairs, please? I could use some help with dinner.”

From somewhere above, I hear a sure, so I head back to the kitchen to pull out the ingredients for the new recipe we’re trying tonight.

After Becky and I divorced, I discovered that I actually like to cook. Neither one of us had had time for it before. Given her job as a defense lawyer and mine building a start-up cyber security company, I’m embarrassed to say that Olivia has eaten way more than her fair share of fast food and takeout in her fifteen years. With two enormously busy parents, it couldn’t be helped.

I’m trying to do things differently now that it’s just the two of us. It was tough for a little bit when the cider mill was getting established, but now I’ve hired plenty of people to help keep things running smoothly. I can, for the first time in what feels like forever, focus on my daughter. Having home-cooked meals is one small thing I can do for her. It’s a bonus that I enjoy it.

Figuring out what the hell is going on at school to cause the issues with her biology grade is a major concern on my plate right now.

I get back to chopping up some broccoli into smallish pieces while I wait for her to come down. We recently got a really cool cooking blender and the plan for tonight is broccoli cheddar soup. Life in Massachusetts can be cold, and I like being able to make a good soup from scratch when the weather is nasty.

Olivia comes in and plops herself onto one of the stools across from me at the island centered in the middle of the spacious kitchen. This place isn’t as big as the home we had in Boston, but I love it. Our only real requirements when we moved here were a bedroom and bathroom for each of us and a big kitchen. This place fit the bill, and, honestly, it’s bigger than what we need for just the two of us.

I gesture with the knife in my hand at the block of cheese on the counter before I slide a cutting board and utility knife over to her. “Can you cut the cheese into cubes for me?”

She glances back and forth between the broccoli I’m cutting and the cheese. “I see what you’re doing.”

I stop, gazing at her as she opens the package and pulls the hunk of cheese out. “What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to fool me into eating that nasty broccoli by drowning it in a sea of cheese.”

I chuckle. “Mm. You caught me. That’s exactly what my thought process was.”

“I do eat vegetables, you know. I use my meal punch at the salad bar at school.”

“Well then, you’re ahead of the game.” I shrug, going back to cutting up the broccoli. “No one ever died from extra veggies.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.” The way she says Dad lately kills me. I want to go back to the days when she called me Daddy in that sweet little voice that made my heart melt. These days, it’s almost as if my name is a bad word. She could easily replace it with you big jerk, and it would evoke the same feeling.

It’s hard to think about the fact that she’s growing up. In three short years, she’ll probably be off to college and I’ll miss her. Okay, maybe not the attitude or the yellow Converse sneakers in the middle of the floor that I trip over … but I’ll miss her.

I wond

er how Becky is dealing with not having Olivia with her full time. Unfortunately for Olivia and me, her job’s always been her first priority. Maybe it’s not as hard for her. Not sure. Olivia is my priority, though, which brings me right back to cooking a good meal for us.

Olivia slides the board with the cubed cheese back toward me. Working silently, I add the ingredients to the blender, select the soup setting, and hit start. It begins to heat and blend, picking up speed and warming the ingredients as it goes.

I cross my arms and lean forward on the counter to get her attention. “So. You want to tell me what’s going on in biology?” I hesitate, cautious, wondering if she’ll actually give me a straight answer.

She shrugs. “Nothing. I just can’t keep up.” That’d be a no for the straight answer. It’s not as if I expected her to spill immediately.

“But why? Quinn didn’t seem to think the material was all that difficult, though she’s willing to tutor you.”

I realize my mistake the minute her name crosses my lips and hope Olivia hasn’t noticed my slip-up.

“It’s not hard, I just—it’s hard to pay attention in that class.”

I’m about to ask what’s distracting her when she frowns. Uh-oh. Ah, shit.

“Did you just call Ms. Lockmore Quinn?” Her forehead scrunches as she looks at me, searching my face for the answer.

Oh boy. That was a fuckup of astronomical proportions. “Sorry, I guess I remember seeing her name in the e-mail she sent me about the conference.” Crap, crap, crap. “She looks like I would imagine a Quinn to look. I guess it stuck.”

“So, you don’t know her?”

---