Page 83 of Not Until I Found You

“That’s not how you eat an ice cream cone, Uncle Z.” Annabelle laughs, shaking her head as she thrusts a handful of napkins into my chest.

“No, it’s how you get a brain freeze,” Maxinne snickers.

I lift my eyes and see that she’s watching me now, her lips pressed together like she’s barely holding back a smile. I chew the best that I can and swallow, instantly regretting inhaling my ice cream. A sharp pain shoots behind my eyes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Maxinne lets out a laugh. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fantastic,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

The pain finally eases, and I wipe at my mouth and chin. There’s amusement behind her gaze as she reaches over, a napkin in her hand, and dabs my cheek.

“You missed a spot.”

The touch is brief, only the brush of her napkin against my skin, but it stirs a tug deep in my stomach. I go still, acutely aware of how close she is and of the thoughtful curve of her mouth as she pulls her hand away.

It takes a humbling amount of restraint not to lean in and close the space between us. It would be so easy to kiss her in the middle of this ice cream shop. It’s a good thing I have Annabelle here as a buffer, because the urge is getting harder and harder to ignore. I’m worried about what would happen if I gave in to the urge before I know what the future could be for us.

As the girls finish the rest of their ice cream, I check my phone to see if I have any updates from Raine and Ryland. As soon as they’re back home, I’m supposed to bring Annabelle to them. I have no new messages, so I slide my phone into my pocket right as Annabelle finishes her last bite.

I lean closer to the table, resting my forearms against the cool metal, and ask, “Would you two like to walk around downtown for a bit?”

“Yes!” Annabelle practically squeals and springs to her feet so fast that her chair scrapes against the floor.

She grabs my hand, nearly dragging me along with her excitement. I glance back to find Maxinne already on her feet, grinning as she follows us outside and onto Main Street. We’re about to approach The Groovy Bean when Annabelle’s shoe catches in a crack in the sidewalk.

Before I can grab a hold of her, she pitches forward with a startling cry and hits the pavement hard. The sound of her knees meeting concrete makes my chest seize, especially as she lets out a sharp cry.

“Oh—Anna,” I gasp, already rushing toward her. Panic floods my system, and I scoop her up, my heart hammering as I scan her knees, both scraped raw and bleeding. “It’s okay, princess. You’re okay. Let’s get her inside The Groovy Bean, I know they have a first aid kit,” I say, already turning toward the coffee shop.

“Zane.” Maxinne’s steady voice stops me in my place. “I have a first aid kit in my purse.”

She’s right beside us now as I shift Annabelle higher in my arms.

“Let’s get her to that bench,” she says, pointing to the small bench a few feet from us.

I nod, grateful for the direction. I sit Annabelle down carefully, crouching in front of her as she sobs. Before I can do anything else, Maxinne is already unzipping her purse. She pulls out what looks to be a small, handmade first aid kit. Inside are glass spray bottles, a tin of balm, and soft, earth-toned bandages that don’t look like anything you’d find in a drugstore.

“It’s going to be okay. We need to clean your scrapes, okay?” Maxinne speaks gently to Annabelle, her voice completely calm. “I promise this part is the worst of it. It might sting for a second, but then it’ll feel better. Are you ready?”

Annabelle whimpers but gives her a nod.

Maxinne sprays a light mist over Annabelle’s knees, and the sharp scent of herbs cuts through the air. Annabelle flinches for a second before she stills, her cries tapering off into hiccups as Maxinne carefully cleans the scrapes. She scoops a bit of balm from the tin, rubbing it onto a cotton ball before smoothing it over the wounds with practiced care.

“There,” she says softly. “This stuff will help you to heal quicker.”

She finishes by placing a bandage on each of Annabelle’s knees. When she’s done, Annabelle looks down, sniffles once, then lifts her arms. Without hesitation, Maxinne leans in as Annabelle wraps her small arms around her neck in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Annabelle whispers.

Maxinne smiles, hugging her back. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re so brave.”

As she pulls away, she wipes the rest of Annabelle’s tears and gives her a nod.

“Do you want to try to walk?” I ask her, reaching a hand out.

Annabelle hesitates at first before she places her hand into mine and tries to stand. “It hurts.” She winces, sitting back down, and her lower lip wobbles. I swear the sight of it squeezes my heart.

“Do you know what my mom used to do for me when I got hurt or if I was having a bad day?” Maxinne says softly, pushing a hair away from Annabelle’s forehead.