Bailey smiled. “Yes, you did. About fourteen times. I know the exact corner where we’re all watching the parade.”
Because the Sprouts were going to view the festivities together. Bailey had a feeling there were going to be several speculative glances when the other mothers caught sight of Kenny.
Their guest arrived right on time. Bailey did her best to quell the butterflies practicing a two-step in her tummy. She drew in a breath for strength and maybe courage while Chloe raced across the carpet, yelling, “I’ll get it! I’ll get it!”
Her seven-year-old flung open the front door and beamed at Kenny. “You came! We’re going to the parade and the turkey’s in the oven and it’s going to be delicious. You get to carve, which means you’re going to make the slices for us.”
Kenny stepped into the living room. He was tall and broad and the living room seemed smaller than usual with him in it. Bailey had the sense of being all thumbs and feet as she tried to smile and greet him.
“Right on time,” she said with a smile.
“I heard there’s a parade.”
“At noon,” Chloe said.
He wore a leather jacket and a scarf around his neck. In one hand he had a bottle of white wine and in the other, the promised pie. Only she didn’t recognize the color of the box. She’d assumed he would go to Ambrosia Bakery, but their boxes were white with silver stripes.
He held up the wine. “This should go in the refrigerator.”
“Sure.” She motioned to the kitchen.
He walked in that direction and she followed. Once there she took the wine from him and fit it into her small refrigerator. He set the pie on the counter.
“Where did you get that?” she asked. “Is there somewhere new in town?”
He raised both eyebrows. “I’m wounded. You’re assuming I bought it.”
He shrugged out of his coat as he spoke. Underneath he wore a blue sweater the same color as his eyes. A white shirt peeked out from underneath. He had on jeans and boots. He was big and masculine and being this close to him made her thighs a little trembly.
She forced her attention back to his words. “You baked a pie?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not possible.”
“It is. I’ll have you know I’m an expert pie-maker.”
Kenny? Ruggedly handsome, football star Kenny? “When did you learn?”
“When I was a kid. We were in Sweden and had a housekeeper who made the best pies. Her crust was a family recipe.” He shrugged. “I was her favorite and for my ninth birthday she taught me how to make it. Once you have that down, the rest of the pie is easy.”
Chloe scooted close to him and grinned. “I can earn a cooking bead when I’m a Sapling. Can you teach me?”
“Sure thing, munchkin.”
He ruffled Chloe’s hair.
The combination of the pet name and the affectionate gesture was nearly as bone-melty as the man’s big hands, Bailey thought, aware that being around Kenny was like playing with fire. Exciting and ultimately dangerous. But it was just one day, right? And a holiday. Didn’t everyone deserve a little something special on Thanksgiving?
CHAPTER FOUR
“WE HAVE A specific corner,” Bailey told Kenny as they walked along with everyone else heading toward the center of town and the parade. Chloe had already spotted Layla and her mom and run ahead. “On Sixth between Frank and Katie Lanes.”
“Okay,” he said easily. “Why?”
“We’re meeting the other Sprouts there. Chloe wants to watch the parade with her friends.”
He nodded. “She’s a bright, outgoing girl. I would guess she’s popular.”
Bailey stared at him.
“What?” he asked. “What did I say?”
“Nothing,” she said, turning away, fighting unexpected tears.
“Bailey.”
Kenny pulled her onto a driveway and stared at her. “Are you crying?”
She shook her head and sniffed. “No,” she said firmly as she looked at him. “You’re right. She’s popular. She has sleepovers nearly every weekend and friends coming by and parties...” She stared at him, hoping her crush would distract her from her emotions, but for once Kenny was simply a friend.
“When Will died, she was devastated. She’d been counting the days until he got home. She’d been so excited to learn to read and write because she wanted to keep a diary for her dad. It was a list of things to tell him. What had happened to her in her day. Every night I helped her write a sentence or two so she could share it with him. Only he never came back.”
She remembered the shock for both of them. The pain. And for her, the guilt.
“She started not doing as well in school. She was quiet and had nightmares. I was so scared for her. I took her to a child psychologist, who said she would come out of it, but I wasn’t sure.” She felt her eyes fill with tears again, and she tried to blink them away.
“Then I heard about the FWM. I signed up Chloe and she became an Acorn.” She brushed the moisture from her cheek. “She blossomed and now my best girl is back. I’m so grateful.”
Kenny cleared his throat. “I’m glad,” he said, and then pulled her close.
The embrace was unexpected and warm and comforting and just a little exciting. Bailey let herself lean against him for a second. He was a lot taller than her and he held her easily. He smelled good, too, she thought. Now if only he would confess his undying lust for her, the moment would be complete.