Page 93 of Guarding Over You
“I do?”
“You do. She’s equally strong and soft. But very few see the soft side. On the outside, she’s all woman, confident and knows what she’s about. She doesn’t take crap from anyone, but you don’t see it coming until she opens her mouth and gets you right between the eyes.”
“Shhh,” she said, laughing. “Don’t give my daughter any ideas.”
“I’m like Mom,” Gracie said. “Grandma told me. That I’m stubborn too.”
“Oh boy. Why am I hearing this now?” she asked. “What were you stubborn about when you stayed with Grandma and Grandpa?”
“I didn’t like dinner,” Gracie said.
She looked at Blaze. “What did she make?”
“Steak. But it tasted funny. I wanted grilled cheese. She made me one and they said I was stubborn.”
“I’ve never been stubborn with food,” she said. “And I ate what was served to me. There was no chance I’d get something else.”
“The same in our family,” he said, looking at Gracie. “There were five of us and my mother worked all day long with my father. She came in and cooked dinner and we all ate it.”
“What if you didn’t like it?” Gracie asked. “Can I have more chicken?”
“You can,” he said, puffing his chest out some. Arden noticed and rolled her eyes. He didn’t care. “Do you want Mom to make your chicken like this?”
“Yes,” Gracie said, looking at her mother. “I like this better than the other stuff.”
“The stuff I pull out of the bag?” she asked, her teeth clenched.
He reached under the table and patted her leg. Not surprised she might be annoyed over this. She’d tried to do this also, she’d said, and Gracie wouldn’t eat it.
“Yes. This is crunchy. I like crunchy things.”
“I’ll let you know what I did,” he said.
“I’d appreciate that. I didn’t know you were such a good cook.”
“There are a few things I can do. Or I cross my fingers and hope they turn out well like the bread.”
“I’m going to send her down here for dinner now,” Arden said, laughing. “I wish it was this easy.”
“Can I come back again for dinner?” Gracie asked.
“You can come back any time you want. I’d love to cook for you again.”
His eyes were on Arden when he said it. She was returning the soft gaze.
The churning in his chest to reach out and touch her more than platonically was killing him.
But tonight wasn’t about what he felt. Or even what Arden did.
It was about what Gracie saw and understood.
“Yes, Mom. I want to come back tomorrow. Dr. Blaze, will you cook us dinner tomorrow?”
He opened his mouth to say yes at the same time Arden said, “You can’t invite yourself to other people’s houses.”
“You can here,” he said. “Because my door is always open for you both.”
And she got that soft look again. It was right there being sent in his direction, and he’d do anything to maintain it.
