Page 64 of Home Ice

He hums, turning back to check on dinner. “Yeah, we worked something out.”

“When were you going to tell me about it?”

He pauses in stirring the meat. “Not sure.”

Suspicion prickles up my spine. “Were you going to tell me about it?”

If he’s planning on going in there during the week, I’d be at work, so there’s no way I’d find out if he told people not to mention it.

He finally turns off the burner, and the pressure in my chest eases. “I didn’t want to say something in case I’m thrown out of there on the first day.”

“You really think Belli would do that?”

“I really think Belli wants to give me a chance, but it’s her shop. If I fuck up, she won’t have a choice.”

“People always have a choice.”

“And I didn’t want you to hold it against her if she has to kick me out of there.” He hands over two plates. “Put these on the table, would you?”

I jump up to help, and just as we’ve finished setting everything out, there’s a knock at the front door. “Expecting visitors?”

“Not me.”

Considering Dad has more people stop around than I do, I’m still expecting it to be for him, right until I open the front door.

“Don’t you ever answer your phone?” Hawke asks.

Something flips over in my gut. “Sorry. Forgot to turn it off silent once I finished work.”

“All good. I was only asking what your plans were this evening, anyway.”

“Ah …” As much as I’d love to take off with him, Dad cooking for us for the first time in years is sort of a big deal. “Just about to sit down to dinner with Dad.”

“Oh.” Hawke takes a step back. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, all good.” I want to invite him to stay, but the reminder of everything our house is hiding stops the words from getting free. I’m so glad we did the lawns last week, but I don’t think it’s made all that much difference. So the words grow heavy on my tongue, and eventually, Hawke smiles awkwardly.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“If you can handle all that attention again.”

“Somehow, I think I’ll manage.” He laughs and starts down the stairs before I remember to ask him how the drive home was.

“How did things go with Kasen?”

His smile tightens. “He didn’t say a word to me.”

“Not even to tell you to shut up?”

“Nope.” He’s forcing his tone to stay upbeat. “But there’s always next time.”

We stare at each other for a beat, and I swear right now, he needs me as much as I probably need him. But before I can give in to that want, I say, “Good night.”

He gets the message. “Good night, Barrett.”

I watch him leave before joining Dad back at the table.

“Was that Hawke I heard?” he asks.