A Bridge to Dreams
Page 11
“I’m not his parent,” Sam retorted, though not only was that not entirely true, he knew it was also hardly the point. He’d been a parent for about a nanosecond. He was still getting the hang of it. “He’s my nephew.”
Since her harsh stare didn’t waver at that, he found himself explaining. “His parents died in an accident two weeks ago. I’m just bringing him here to live with me. You’ll have to forgive me if I thought letting him finally get some rest was more important than dragging him over here to wait with me while I get some food. He was never out of my sight, was he? And the windows are all cracked, so there’s air circulating. Didn’t you see me standing right here by the door keeping an eye on him?”
“I suppose,” she said, backing down, but sparks still flashed in her eyes. “You can’t take chances with a child’s safety. Things can happen in the blink of an eye.”
“I’m well aware of that, probably more so than you are,” he said. “That’s what happened to my sister and brother-in-law. They were gone in the blink of an eye. Nobody could have anticipated that. And I sure as heck didn’t anticipate becoming a dad overnight.”
She faltered at that, her cheeks turning pink. “I’m sorry. Look, just go back to the car, okay? I’ll bring your food out as soon as it’s ready. It’ll make us both feel better if he’s not over there alone.”
Sam started to argue, then gave in. He pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet and gave them to her. “I’m not sure how much the bill will be, but this should cover it.”
She handed back one of the twenties. “This will do. I’m going to have Luke put some chocolate chip cookies in with your order. They’re not on the menu, but he keeps them on hand for the kids in our family. They’re my great-grandmother’s recipe. She bakes once a week and brings them over here. She leaves a supply at my house, too, since most of the kids are in and out of there, too.”
The thought of home-baked cookies triggered a longing in Sam, one he hadn’t even realized he’d buried deep inside. “My grandmother used to do the same thing. She baked for the whole family. She’s been gone for years, but I still remember the way her kitchen smelled.”
A smile spread across the woman’s face at last. “There’s nothing like it, is there? Don’t ever tell Nell, if you happen to meet her, but I bake, too, just so my house will smell like that when the kids come by. I want to be the go-to aunt or cousin or neighbor when it comes to cookies.”
She shooed him toward the door. “Go. I’ll be over with your food in just a minute.”
Sam dutifully left the pub and crossed the street. He stood beside the car and waited for the woman to emerge with his order. At least he told himself his gaze was so intense because his stomach was rumbling, but the truth was, he wanted another glimpse of her. She was a mass of contradictions with her fancy clothes and home-baked cookies, the lost expression he’d caught on her face when he first noticed her sitting at the bar, and her fiery indignation when she’d found Bobby alone in the car.
Contradictions like that, though, usually meant trouble. And these days Sam had more of that than he could possibly handle.
Copyright © 2015 by Sherryl Woods
ISBN-: 9781460395448
Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.
A BRIDGE TO DREAMS
Copyright © 1990 by Sherryl Woods.
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