by Jerry Cole
Robert was standing in the doorway, face impassive, but his hands clenched into fists by his sides. Grant took an aborted step forward, to ask Robert if there was anything he could do, when Morgan appeared at the end of the hall. “Grant! You’re back!”
Grant jerked back before Robert could be alerted by the shout and gave Morgan a smile. “Hey. Did you have a good day?”
“I had to tidy my toys,” Morgan said with a sigh. “But Daddy bought me ice cream, so he’s forgiven.”
Grant tried not to laugh, but it was a little hard. “Is that right?”
“You left without saying goodbye,” Morgan said with a pout.
“Well I’m sorry about that.” Grant ducked down and held out his hand. “I promise next time to say goodbye. Shake on it?”
Morgan grinned, taking his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “Agreed.”
When Grant got back on his feet, Morgan immediately peered past his leg and grinned even wider. “Daddy!”
“Hey, baby,” Robert said, sweeping Morgan into his arms as she ran at him. He caught Grant’s eyes over her shoulder. “You came back.”
“I did. Everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” The edge to Robert’s voice put a stop to anything Grant might have said after that.
Grant shrugged. “Just asking. I was wondering,” he continued, hoping a change of subject would soften the hard parts of Robert’s demeanor. “I know you’re happy to cook breakfast, but I bought some stuff that I’d like – I’d like to keep in the kitchen if possible?”
Robert looked surprised by the request. “How much stuff?”
“Just enough for some lunch and dinners, things like that.” Grant hesitated and figured the attractive comment had paid off, so having courage couldn’t hurt. “Perhaps I could cook for you and Morgan as well?”
It took a long time for Robert to answer. Before he did, he put Morgan on the floor, patting her butt. “Go wash up for dinner, sweetheart.”
“Sure, Daddy.”
Morgan ran off down the hall and Robert drew himself back up to his height. Grant realized he had done something wrong from the look on Robert’s face. “Do you think I can’t take care of my daughter?”
“No,” Grant said immediately, shocked. “Robert, I don’t–”
“I don’t know you,” Robert snapped, “and you don’t know me. I don’t need anything from you.”
Without waiting for a reply, Robert stormed off after Morgan, leaving Grant standing in the middle of the hall, wondering what he had done wrong.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Grant wasn’t sure he wanted to go downstairs.
It was still awkward, and he hadn’t seen Morgan or Robert before turning in for the night. He knew they had dinner, could hear them downstairs, and he had eaten some of his food in his room, wondering whether this had been a good idea after all. Robert was right, after all. Grant was moving in a weird way and it was unlike him. He was usually so cautious when entering relationships, but something about Robert caused him to act rashly.
He had been woken up by the harbor noises, but although he had considered the night before just moving on, he had made the decision just before sleeping that he would stick around. There was so many interesting things around the town that he shouldn’t have to worry about what Robert thought of him. It was a lesson that Grant was going to learn.
With wallet and notebook in hand, he decided to forgo breakfast at the B&B and head out for a walk around the harbor. Instead of ignoring his promise to Morgan to say goodbye to her, he tore a page out of his notebook and left a note in the kitchen. It would have to be enough, as Grant couldn’t make out any sounds of Robert and Morgan waking up.
The harbor itself was extremely busy, people yelling and laughing jovially as he threaded his way through the workers. A lot of the boats were out of the harbor already, rising with the sun to get as much fishing in as possible, but there were a couple of small cargo boats still loading up on the dock. Stopping to help a guy load his boat, Grant figured it couldn’t hurt to get a sense of the camaraderie of the harbor.
“Thanks,” the guy said, lips quirking up. “My companion hasn’t decided to get out of bed.”
Grant placed the last crate on the deck, straightening up. “It was a pleasure. I hope you’re helped soon.”
“I better be. He does the heavy lifting.”
Laughing, Grant turned to look over the harbor, not that he knew what this guy’s companion looked like. “I’m sure he would never leave you to flounder alone.”
“He’s reliable,” the guy agreed, then stuck out his hand. “Derek.”
“Grant,” Grant offered. “Have you lived here all your life?”
“No, actually,” Derek said. He took a seat on one of the jetty struts, hands on his knees. “I moved here a couple of years ago with my best friend. Best decision we ever made.”
“I can imagine,” Grant said. He slipped his hands into his pockets, gaze sweeping the other boats in the harbor. “Is this your boat?”
“Yeah.” Derek looked back over his shoulder, a soft smile on his face. Grant was amused to recognize it as the one Robert wore whenever he looked at Morgan. Clearly Derek was very pleased with his purchase. “First thing I bought when I got here. Didn’t even consider I might need somewhere to live.”
Grant snorted. “Priorities.”
“Exactly.” Derek stood. “Looks like my company finally rolled out of bed.”
“Ah, Grant,” Sval said.
“This is your friend?” Grant asked, shaking Sval’s hand. “I thought you owned the convenience store?”
“We do,” Derek put in. “When Sval and I go out on the boat, Darcy’s in charge. Have you met her yet?”
Sval interrupted smoothly. “They were introduced yesterday. How was the market?”
“I got what I needed,” Grant said. “I like it here.”
Derek and Sval exchanged a smile. Sval clapped Grant on the back, a little too forcefully. Either he didn’t know his own strength, or it wasn’t something he remember to account for. “It does grow on you.”
“Unless Robert drives him away,” Derek added. Grant felt a rush of irritation at the slight against Robert but was chastised – and soothed – a moment later by Derek’s fond smile. “He means well.”
Sval untied one of the moorings of the boat. “He is good once you get a few beers in him.”
Grant could only imagine. “With Morgan, that’s gotta be hard.”
“No shortage of babysitters,” Derek pointed out. “That girl has the whole town wrapped around her finger.”
Now that was something Grant could attest to. “I’m pretty sure she’s already got me wrapped her around her finger.”
Sval and Derek laughed, and with another parting shoulder clap, they climbed into the boat. Grant waited until it was out of view to carry on around the edge of the jetty. He received a lot of friendly nods and waves, but nobody stopped and spoke to him unless he made the effort. He didn’t want to interrupt anyone too much when they were busy, so he mostly left everyone to themselves.
A little further around the bay, there were spots for fishing, whether sport or recreational, and small cabins, he assumed for vacationers – or even for hunting. There was a small jetty attached to one of the cabins that he assumed was usually housing someone’s holiday boat. The cabin was empty, and Grant was sure his curiosity would get him into trouble one day, but he approached it anyway. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anyone around, so he slipped around the side of the house and onto the jetty. The water was calm, hardly a ripple, and as he made his way delicately down to the water’s edge, he sat on the bank, stretching out his legs and breaking out his notebook.
The serenity and quiet of the small bay he was sitting by was definitely worth writing about. There were still noises filtering across from the harbor, and more from a couple of fishermen sitting not far from him, but it wasn’t enough to detract from the s
urroundings. He scribbled a few words about that, and then started to write about the people in the town. He didn’t name any of them, but Sval and Derek were definitely likeable people, and though he had joked around with Robert that he would write about him, he kept it anonymous and respectful.
He was broken out of his writing streak by a boat crossing the water in front of him, sending ripples out to the bank of the river. He looked up to see that it was Sval and Derek, who had clearly only just made it out to where he was sitting. He waved, hoping they would see, and grinned when he got twin waves back. Derek shouted something across the water, but Grant couldn’t make it out. He gave an exaggerated shrug and Derek sighed but waved a hand. Grant figured it was just a greeting and that Derek would find him later if it was anything else.
There was a low rumble and Grant realized that he hadn’t eaten breakfast – and his body was clearly reminding him to do something about it. Walking back toward the town, he took his phone out of his pocket, snapping some pictures of the surroundings. His mother would love to see it, though she would definitely demand he take her.
Back in town, Grant headed back to the B&B, hoping that he wouldn’t run into Robert. He didn’t know what had happened last night, but still wasn’t interested in overstepping anymore. He opened the front door, surprised to find Morgan sitting on the counter out front, kicking her legs back and forth.
“Hi, Morgan.”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Morgan said with a smile. “Thank you for leaving a letter, Mr. Grant. I appreciate it.”
“Just Grant,” Grant said. “Why have you been waiting for me?”
Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Grant turned to see Robert hovering awkwardly in the doorway. His eyes darted to the left and right and then settled on Grant’s face. “I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“You don’t have to.” Grant gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“You didn’t,” Robert stressed, taking a step forward. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that, but I was – last night’s visitor wasn’t a welcome one and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Grant was silent for a moment. It was a good apology and he was inclined to accept it, even if he were still sure he had been moving a little too fast. It would pay to take it easy. “It’s all right,” he said eventually.
“And?” Morgan said, still sitting on the counter. She had her eyes narrowed at Robert and he gave her a soft smile.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Robert gave Grant another look, more accepting and calmer. “If you still wanted to cook dinner sometime, I wouldn’t object.”
Dammit. Grant had only just told himself to take it slow and he felt that same rush of emotion that maybe things between them could be – no, he had to stop that. “I was just about to have lunch,” Grant offered, “but maybe tonight?”
“Sure,” Robert said. “Morgan would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” Morgan said enthusiastically. “What are you cooking?”
“That depends on what you want to eat,” Grant said, pretending to think about it. “What’s your favorite food?”
“I like fish.” Morgan’s words were slow as she thought about the answer. “I also like chicken and chips. And spaghetti!”
“All things I can cook,” Grant said. “I think we should ask your dad what he likes.”
Robert pretended to think about it as hard as Morgan had. “I like the idea of spaghetti. Always a win.”
Grant nodded decisively. “Then spaghetti it shall be.”
He didn’t have the ingredients for spaghetti, but it wouldn’t take long to grab them from the store.
“All right,” Robert said, moving past Grant to lift his daughter down from the counter. “I’m sure Grant has things to do before he starts cooking for us. I have rooms to clean.”
Morgan cheered. “Can I help with the dusting?”
“Duh,” Robert said, running his hand through Morgan’s curls. “See you later, Grant.”
“Bye, Grant,” Morgan echoed.
Grant gave her a wave and turned toward the dining room. He would grab a snack and then go shopping for ingredients, doing the best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach about the fact that he was actually cooking dinner for someone. It had been a long time.
Chapter Four
Commandeering the kitchen felt strange.
Everything was unfamiliar, but he managed to pinpoint most of the utensils he needed. Halfway through the sauce, Morgan appeared in the doorway, nervous, as if not sure if she could come in.
“Hi. Did you do your dusting?”
“Yes,” Morgan said, coming into the room properly. “Daddy’s doing the bathrooms and I don’t like those.”
Grant laughed gently. “I’m not sure I’d like that part, either.” Stirring the sauce, he split his attention easily between cooking and Morgan. “Where are you allowed to sit when Daddy’s cooking?”
“Right there.” Morgan pointed to the counter off to the side of the stove. Not close enough to be burned, but close enough to see.
“All right,” Grant said. “Would you like to sit up there?”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “You don’t mind? Daddy said not to bother you.”
Grant gave her a smile. “Well it’s not bothering me, so I don’t think he can tell you off, can he?”
“No,” Morgan said with a grin. “What are you cooking now, Grant?”
Grant paused in his stirring long enough to help Morgan up onto the counter. “The sauce. It’s got beef and tomato and some herbs.”
“Erbs?”
“Herbs,” Grant corrected gently. “They give food an extra taste. Makes your mouth happy when it’s eating.”
“I like it when my mouth is happy,” Morgan told him. “What else do you have to do?”
“When the sauce is almost done, I have to put the pasta on. Then we have to put lots of cheese on it.”
Morgan looked intrigued by the process, looking over Grant’s arm to see what he was doing. “Cheese is great! I love lots of cheese but Daddy’s always telling me too much isn’t good.”
Grant leaned in close, pretending to whisper. “Your Daddy’s right. You shouldn’t eat too much, but I’m sure if I gave you a slice while I was grating it, he doesn’t know, right?”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “And you wouldn’t tell?”
Grant pressed a hand to his chest, knowing Morgan was intelligent, but hoping she would appreciate a little bit of fun as well. “I would never.”
As he had hoped, Morgan giggled. “Okay, Grant. We won’t tell Daddy.”
“Won’t tell Daddy what?” Robert said, appearing in the doorway.
“Nothing,” Morgan said quickly. It was the same kind of nothing Grant had used on his mother as a child, the one that had always failed.
“Nothing,” Grant echoed, giving Robert a bright smile. “Just talking about the sauce.”
“Hmm.” There was a drawn-out pause, but then Robert sighed, an amused smile on his face. “I believe you.”
“Good,” Grant said over Morgan’s giggles. “Because we would never do anything wrong.”
Robert gave him an expression that said I doubt it, but he came to join them in the kitchen anyway. “What stage are we up to?”
“The spaghetti,” Morgan said, clapping her hands together.
Grant checked the time and though it was slightly early, he acquiesced with a nod. “Definitely time for the spaghetti.”
Cooking the rest of the spaghetti with both Morgan and Robert in the room was strange, especially when Grant was used to cooking and living alone, but he found that he liked it – as much as he had when they had shared breakfast the day before. When it came time to dishing up, he gave Morgan the important job of setting the table. Robert moved to help her, so Grant focused on transferring the food to plates and balancing all three on his way out of the kitchen. Robert stopped just before he knocked into him and looke
d sheepish. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I have all three.”
“I can see that,” Robert said, impressed. Moving out of Grant’s way, he joins Morgan at the table, who looks awed by Grant carrying three plates.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s amazing.”
“Thank you,” Grant said, putting the plates on the table with a flourish.
It was almost the same as breakfast had been, with Morgan enjoying the dinner, Grant and Robert exchanging stilted small talk, and Grant feeling a sense of charged energy between them, but not sure what to do about it. He hoped that every meal – or at least the ones that Robert let him share with them – wasn’t going to be the same. Hopefully things between he and Robert would get less strained if Grant proved he wasn’t trying to overstep or be weird about anything; he genuinely liked Robert thus far and wanted to try and get to know him better, especially if he was sticking around the B&B for a while.
“How’s your dinner?” Grant asked Morgan, when she was scraping the plate clean of sauce.
“Great,” Morgan said, smiling wide, sauce all around her mouth. Grant couldn’t help but laugh gently, and even Robert rolled his eyes, amused.
“Morgan, sweetheart, how do you manage to get most of your food around your mouth?”
“It’s so tasty my cheeks wanted some!” Morgan said quickly, causing both Grant and Robert to laugh.
Out of the mouth of babes, Grant thought. “How did your cheeks like it?”
“They thought it was amazing, obviously,” Robert said dryly.
Morgan laughed, kicking her legs back and forth. She leaned against the edge of the table. “Are you going to finish all of yours, Daddy?”
Robert looked scandalized and Grant laughed, amused by Morgan’s innocent expression and Robert’s narrowed eyes. “Yes, I am, Monkey. Why don’t you ask Grant if he’s finishing his?”
Grant glared at him and received a sweet smile in return. Morgan was already looking at him, but he pretending to sweep his plate closer, guarding it against her. She giggled. “Stay away from my spaghetti!”