Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Can I help, too?”
“Of course. You can brown this chicken for me.”
“I can?” She approached from Tallulah’s right looking bewildered. “How?”
“Sprinkle some of that olive oil into the pan and heat it up.”
Silence stretched. “I don’t know how.”
Tallulah set down the knife and washed her hands, then gestured for Lissa to join her at the stove. She could feel Burgess’s eyes on her back as she walked Lissa through the motions of turning on the burner to the correct setting. They salted and peppered all of the chicken chunks together and added them to the pan, along with a dollop of butter and a hearty squeeze of lemon, Lissa jumping back when the sizzling oil popped. “You don’t help your mom cook?”
“No, she just does it by herself.”
Tallulah hummed. “She’s going to be excited to have a helper now.”
“Yeah.”
“Just don’t use the stove without an adult around. Your parents will probably get touchy if you burn the house down.” Tallulah searched the drawer for a set of tongs, surprised when Burgess handed her one over her shoulder. She turned and made eye contact with the hockey player where he stood in front of a crudely chopped pile of onions, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude. “Growing up in my house, we had a rule. You have to clear the air before a meal. If you still have anger in your throat when the meal starts, you could choke.”
Father and daughter looked at her with owl eyes.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Lissa pointed out.
“Neither did I.”
“It’s a good thing I know the Heimlich maneuver.” Tallulah sighed. “Chicken is definitely getting stuck in somebody’s windpipe.”
“I just wanted to tell you what happened, but you freaked out,” Lissa said to her father.
Burgess massaged the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to handle the situation. That’s what I do. I’m your dad and I love you.”
Lissa’s lower lip started to tremble, but she quickly stilled it. “Okay. Me too.”
Tallulah found it hard to take a deep breath. “Maybe next time, we’ll listen first and handle the situation later, if necessary.” She gave Lissa another side hug. “Does that sound good to everyone?”
“Yes,” Lissa said emphatically.
After a moment of consideration, Burgess nodded. “Yeah.”
Tallulah split a smile between them. “Congratulations, no one is choking to death tonight.”
Burgess needed help. Badly.
Throughout dinner, that fact was painfully obvious.
When he looked at his daughter, the affection in his eyes was clear. He simply had no idea how to relate to her. She talked about her favorite band and he grumbled about the lyrics being too mature. She giggled about her crush on the lead singer and Burgess looked like he needed to be sedated. Her desire to get a purple streak added to her hair had him draining his entire glass of water. It went like that.
By the end of the meal, Tallulah had drawn the conclusion that Lissa had gotten older, but Burgess was still mentally parenting a five-year-old.
“That was really good,” Lissa commented as the three of them cleared the table, rinsed the plates, and loaded the dishwasher. “What are we making tomorrow?”
Tallulah’s chest lurched. “Well, um . . .”
She met Burgess’s searching gaze from the other side of the kitchen. “Hey, kid,” he said gruffly. “Can I talk to Tallulah in private for a sec?”
Lissa looked at both of them, sharp as a tack. “You’re coming back, right?”
“You know how us adults operate,” Tallulah hedged. “We have to go over all the boring details before we settle on anything.” She looked the young girl in the eye. “But we’re friends, Lissa. One way or another, I’ll see you soon.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Lissa scrutinized Tallulah a little too closely for comfort. “Take her to the rooftop garden for your talk, Dad. She has to see it, okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Burgess coughed into his fist. To disguise a laugh? “Good idea.”
Tallulah narrowed her eyes at Burgess as Lissa danced out of the kitchen. “I’m being played. She remembers that I’m a sucker for gardens.”
He shrugged. “You won’t like this one. There are too many water fixtures.”
“Water fixtures?” she echoed wistfully.
“Yeah, the waterfall gets noisy sometimes.” He shuddered. “And it’s too bright up there with all of the string lights.”
She made a sound. “The ones with the big vintage bulbs?”
“You know them?” He cringed. “Awful. Just awful. You’re there to look at the stars, not a bunch of lights, right? I mean, the stars are right there.”
A giggle carried down the hallway in the direction of Lissa’s room.
Burgess gave her a quick grin. Just a flash of those teeth and her heartbeat doubled. Since when did she have a thing for teeth? And if she did have a sudden fetish for chompers, why was it manifesting itself with a hockey player who could easily lose them with one rogue puck to the face? Everything about . . . noticing Burgess was inconvenient. She shouldn’t be following him to a romantic rooftop garden for a private chat beneath the stars.