by Harloe Rae
Ollie slips his hand into mine. “What’re we gonna do?”
I tap my chin. “How about I close Thicket early and we go somewhere special?”
His eyes sparkle. “Yes! Let’s do that.”
“Do you like ice cream?” I tease.
Ollie begins vibrating in place. “It’s my favorite!”
“Then I have a super surprise for you.”
Braelyn
Sprinkles
It doesn’t take more than twenty minutes to shut Thicket down for the day. Ollie is patient as can be, following me between aisles to tidy up and straighten the shelves. I never thought having a partner in cleanup crime could be so entertaining. He talks nonstop about anything that pops into his brain. The retelling of his favorite cartoon episodes is my favorite. On top of that, he’s a great little worker. I’m already considering future dates where he can hang around and lend a helpful hand. I’m sure he’d accept candy as payment.
I walk to the front with Ollie hot on my heels. His quick and uneven footsteps make the sweetest sound. I’m practically skipping, my mood higher than it’s been in a long time. Having his company adds a shimmery twinkle to my vision and makes everything vibrant.
The realization stops me short. I shouldn’t get attached. Brance already made that clear. But as I glance at Ollie over my shoulder, I already know it’s too late.
With a roll of my neck, I shove those worries away. There’s no room for troubles in this space. I grab my purse from under the register, switch off the open sign, and move to set the alarm.
“How do you remember all this stuff?” Ollie stops beside me, watching my fingers on the keypad.
I smile down at him. “It’s a routine. I follow it every day except for Sunday.”
“Because you’re closed,” he grumbles.
“Ah, yes. You found that out last weekend, huh?”
Ollie’s frown is impressive. “I had to get regular candy instead.”
“I’m sorry, buddy. From now on, I’ll give you more on Saturday to last until Monday.”
That turns his lips right-side up. “That’s a good deal.”
I stick out my hand. “We can even shake on it.”
He giggles, fitting his smaller palm into mine. “A taffy promise.”
“Those are the best. Now, let’s take this party next door.” I guide him outside and lock up.
“I’m so excited,” Ollie squeaks.
“Me too. This is where I get lunch most days. Everyone is very nice. They’ll love you.” I doubt my assurance is needed. Ollie has the confidence of a Hollywood A-lister.
We’re on the sidewalk for all of one minute before I’m steering him into Dapper Diner. “Here we are,” I sing-song.
Ollie is quiet next to me, absorbing the bustling restaurant spread out before us. Pictures of customers, old and new, decorate every available inch of wall space. The checkered floor leads to an open floor plan dotted with tables and booths. There’s a crowd already gathering, over half of the red vinyl seats occupied. Servers navigate the maze to drop off drinks and heaping plates. The dinner rush is in full swing. I inhale the aroma of being welcomed home. Today it smells like the pulled pork Wednesday special.
A long and narrow countertop separates the dining area from the kitchen. I point to the row of short stools with a front-row view of the talented cooks. “Those are the best seats in the house. You get to watch all the action.”
Ollie is nodding before I finish. “I wanna sit there.”
I let him choose a spot smack-dab in the middle. He hops up with ease and settles in like a regular. I follow suit, pleased as punch with this decision. Babysitting was a chore when my sister was little. Is that what this is? Doesn’t feel like it. If anything, kid-sitting is more appropriate.
Ollie studies every square inch with wide eyes and newfound curiosity. I take a lazy look around while waiting for someone to check on us.
“I’m glad your dad had a meeting.”
Ollie wrinkles his nose. “Why? They’re boring.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “Because I got to bring you here.”
“I told my daddy that he had to let you take care of me. I wasn’t going to talk to him for a whole hour if he didn’t.” His broad grin says it all. Appears father and son have a similar stubborn streak.
“Well, I’m very glad he listened to you.”
Maude—a very familiar face—saunters up to us and leans an elbow on the counter. “Hey, Braelyn. Who’s this handsome guy?”
Ollie blinks at the older woman. “You look like Mary.”
Maude fluffs her graying curls. “She must be lovely.”
His dimples are Oscar-worthy. “Uh-huh, she really is.”
She gives his cheek a light pinch. “You’re sweet as sugar, cutie pie. What’s your name?”
He sticks out his little hand. “I’m Oliver, but you can call me Ollie.”
“Oh, my! Such a gentleman. I’m Maude. Welcome to Dapper Diner.” She gestures around the buzzing space.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Maude.”
A wrinkled hand flutters to her chest. “Well, color me stunned. The feeling is very mutual. You’re something special, kiddo. Your parents must be very proud.”
Ollie sits up straight, his smile wilting ever so slightly. “It’s just my dad. But he tells me I’m very well behaved.”
Maude laughs. “Well, he’s right. You’re brighter than the sun. Don’t lose that spunk, Ollie.”
He’s beaming at her again, the expression more than fitting. She passes him a kid’s menu and a cup full of crayons. Maude gives me a raised eyebrow, gesturing to a glossy stack of menus, and I shake my head. She winks at me.
“I’ll be back in a few,” she says and walks off.
Ollie’s forehead is adorably crinkled when I glance over at him. He studies the paper in front of him. “I can’t read very well yet. Miss Heather, my preschool teacher, says I’m super smart and ready for kindergarten. But I can’t sound out all the words.”
“I’ll order for you so it’ll be a surprise. Do you trust me?”
His nod is enthusiastic. “Yep, so much.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “I hope you never lose that.”
The creases on Ollie’s brow make a reappearance. “I don’t get it.”
I laugh. “Never mind, kiddo. Just stay happy.”
“That’s easy!”
“It definitely can be,” I whisper.
“Why do you look sad sometimes?”
I falter at that, searching for an explanation. “What do you mean?”
He leans closer. “I’ve seen you frown a lot. Your eyes look wet sometimes. That means you were crying. What’s wrong, Miss Braelyn?”
This boy catches far more than most adults. I attempt a smile, but my lips tremble. “I lost someone very close to me years ago. Sometimes, when I think about him, I get a little blue.”
Ollie’s eyes are wide. “Did he die?”
My nod is slow. “He did. We were in an accident.”
“But you’re okay.”
“Yes, I survived.” Somewhat, at least.
He picks up a blue crayon, twirling it between his fingers. “My mom has never been around. She left right after I was born.”
I rub his back. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Ollie.”
His slim shoulders lift. “It’s like I lost her. But I never really had her. I’m not even sure what she looks like. My dad doesn’t have any pictures.”
Jeez, no wonder we have a connection.
I’m in the center of a minefield without a map. I bounce my knee and consider what direction to take. “Do you, uh, ever wonder about her?”
His mouth pulls up on one side. “Meh, not really. Only when my friends have their moms around. And they’re all super nice to me so it’s okay. My daddy told me she’s very busy helping others.”
A fissure cracks my sternum and makes a bit more space for him. “I bet she’s very sad with her
choice. You’re a great kid, Ollie. And you’re loved by many.”
He draws a perfect heart on his menu. “Yeah, I’m lucky. My dad tells me we don’t need her. His heart beats twice as hard for me to cover for her part.”
There’s a hitch in my breath. I fall a little in love with Brance Stone in that moment. Heaven help me.
Ollie doesn’t notice my strangled rasps. “He’s a really good dad. Even though he works a lot, we spend a lot of time together. He always tries really hard to make me laugh.”
“That’s very nice of him.” I’m glad there’s a soft side to Brance.
“Are you married?”
Ollie’s question catches me off guard. “What?”
On instinct, my gaze drops to my hand. Some phantom sensation has me looking specifically at my ring finger. But it’s bare, of course. That clear fact is a stake straight to my shattered heart.
He tries again. “Do you have a husband?”
I clear my throat. “No, Ollie. I don’t.”
“My dad is pretty great, you know.” His legs swing with abandon. I miss feeling that carefree ease.
“Oh yeah?” My response is the definition of evasive.
Maude saves my ass by swooping in at that exact moment. She’s getting a big tip.
“All set?” She has a pen poised and ready.
“We’ll have two of my usual,” I tell her.
“Oooh, that’s fun. I’ll have those right up.” She reaches behind her and produces two icy cups of water. “Hopefully this will hold you over until then.”
I take a long drink to soothe the desert in my mouth.
“Do you like my dad, Miss Braelyn?”
This isn’t the first time he’s asked me. I’m positive it won’t be the last. I pull in a deep breath, dredging up a watered-down version of the truth. “Uh, sure. He seems very sweet to you. And he’s very tall.”
Ollie’s head bobs wildly. “He is. I’m gonna grow up big like him. Won’t that be awesome?”
“I bet you’ll be even taller and bigger and stronger.”
He lifts his arm and flexes the muscle. I give his small bicep a squeeze, whistling for optimal impact. “Oh, wow. You’re well on the way. Your dad better watch out.”
“Really?” His face scrunches up with a growl. “I wanna be a policeman.”
“Then that’s what you’ll grow up to become.”
“But how about my dad?”
I tilt my head. “What about him, sweetie?”
“Do you love him?”
I choke on my sip of water. Just when I thought we’d swerved around this topic. “Oh, um… no. I don’t know him very well. I think we’re just friends. Maybe?” Yeah, because that’s convincing. My flimsy cardboard voice isn’t fooling anyone. I sound like a liar, and a bad one at that.
Ollie is quick as a whip and doesn’t miss a beat. “I think you two should get married.”
Holy shitballs, what tangled dimension did I drop into? It will be a fifty below zero in Hades before that’s even a conceivable option. I attempt to gather my scattered wits.
“Uh, well,” I start. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Ollie.”
“Why not?”
“It’s kinda complicated.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure how to explain it,” I hedge.
“But why?”
“Because it’s adult stuff.”
“My dad and Mary talk about this all the time.”
I doubt that very much. “Well, then you should ask them.”
He rests his chin on an open palm, in it for the long haul. “I want you to tell me. Why won’t you marry my dad?”
How bad will Brance hate me if I tell Ollie the truth? Can it get much worse? The hard truth sinks in my stomach. Denial is a much safer route, but I’m running out of steam.
Lord, if you’re listening, please cut me a break.
An angel dressed as Maude sets two overflowing bowls in front of us. Whipped cream and sprinkles have never looked so good. Ollie’s eyes are blown wide when he catches sight of the massive sundae just within reach.
“All this is for me?” His tone is packed with all the wonder in this world.
“Yup.” I add extra emphasis on the last letter.
“There’s even two cherries on top,” he mumbles.
“It wouldn’t be the ultimate deluxe without those.”
“This is the best place ever. I mean, other than Thicket. And I guess my house. I like school, too. But Dapper Diner rules!” He pumps the air.
“Told you so.”
His little fingers curl around the bowl, dragging it closer. “Won’t this spoil my dinner?”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
He zips his lips, those blue eyes never straying far from the tower of ice cream. “I’m super good at keeping secrets.”
“Just this once. This will stay just between us,” I whisper.
“But what if I want to come back?”
“Then I’ll bring you.” I hold up a hand. “Girl Scout’s honor.” I was never in a troop, but it still counts.
“Promise?”
“Absolutely,” I vow.
Hello, safe ground. I’ve missed you.
I clink my spoon against his. “Enjoy, kiddo.”
Brance
Shove
The words begin blending on the page, and I set the packet down. I rub my eyes, reaching for the mug in front of me. Cold coffee greets my tongue, and I choke it down. I glance at the clock, my shoulders drooping. I’ve already been at this for five hours.
I’m about to buzz Kathy for a fresh cup when my door swings open. As I raise my glower toward the sound, I’m met with the smug smile of my best friend.
“Good morning,” he chirps.
I don’t bother masking my scoff. “It’s almost noon.”
Jordan drops into the leather chair across from me, groaning with gusto. “But it’s not yet. You can still get a donut in the lounge.”
His logic is more ridiculous than the wrinkled shirt he’s wearing. He kicks his feet up on the ledge of my desk.
I promptly shove them down. “Have some class, Jord.”
He quirks a brow in my direction. “Shit, what’s got your nuts in a vice so early?”
“Other than this unfortunate interruption?”
His eyes roll to the vaulted ceiling. “You’d be bored stiff without me stirring the pot.”
“Unlikely. But I’m actually quite busy.” I gesture to the stacks of files piled high beside me.
Jordan whistles. “Damn, you’re buried. That’s how you make the big bucks, partner.”
I turn my attention to the open folder in front of me. “I’ll get it done. Apparently June is a popular month to get divorced. Who knew?”
“I think we’re in the peak for weddings.” He scratches his chin. “But who the hell knows. Certainly not me.”
I scribble a few notes in the margin. “Maybe there’s a correlation.”
“Don’t go all Nerd Christmas on me. I haven’t had enough caffeine.”
“All right, out with it. What do I owe this pleasant visit to?” I lean back in my seat.
Jordan taps his fingers on the armrest. “Just wanted to check in on my buddy. Make sure you’re taking care of the essentials. You know, listening to those natural instincts.”
He’s fucking snooping, and not being stealthy in the least.
“The detective gig doesn’t suit you. But I’m good, thanks. How’s business?”
“Oh, you know. A small startup was bought out by a major corp. Same old.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Sounds thrilling.”
He makes a see-saw motion with his hand. “One of their associates is pretty hot. Didn’t mind the eye candy. Speaking of, how’s taffy girl?”
I hang my head. “Oh, here we go.”
“What? It’s an innocent question.”
“Yeah and you’re running for president.”
Jord
an barks out a laugh. “You can try tossing me off the trail, but I’ll sniff that shit out.”
I wave him off. “I haven’t seen her since Wednesday. She watched Ollie for me.”
He flings forward, snapping to attention. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Braelyn took care of Ollie while I was meeting with Don about the Guttenbarg case.”
“The hot shop owner babysat your son?” His jaw is almost hanging on the floor.
I squint at him. “Are you deaf?”
“My mind is blown. I just… wow.” He shakes his head. “Were you stoned?”
A dull pounding knocks at my skull. “What’s the big deal?”
“You let a woman other than Mary help you.”
I blink at him. “So?”
“This is huge.” He makes a wide gap between his palms, demonstrating the size of precisely how big.
“It’s really not.”
Jordan points at me. “You’re in denial.”
“Dare I ask about what?”
“This Braelyn chick. She’s totally getting to you.”
“Didn’t we already go over this?”
He crosses an ankle over his thigh. “That was last week. There’s been new developments that, need I remind, you hid from me.”
“You’re such a girl,” I mutter.
He thrusts his hips. “That’s not what your mom said last night.”
I slam my hand down, rattling everything within a mile radius. “Fucking low blow, Hughes.”
Jordan winces. He has the decency to look guilty as fuck. “That was a dirty hit. I apologize.”
I blow out a heavy breath. “It’s fine.”
“You know I’m just fucking with you.”
“Yeah, real fucking funny. Hardy-har-har. Anything else you wanted to discuss during gossip hour?”
“Other than your girlfriend? No.”
“Keep the jokes coming, you’re on a roll.”
“Just admit you can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Not gonna happen. I prefer to live honestly.”
But he’s the one speaking truth. Braelyn is rarely far from my thoughts. To make matters worse, she’s the prime source of spank-bank material. I can’t jack off without seeing her angelic face. Her mossy eyes stare into my soul, begging for more of me. In the darkest hours, she finds me waiting. I give in and let desire take control. Potent heat slithers under my skin.