Page 53 of Quinton's Quest

“No worries. I’ll be right behind you.” I went to the side door of the garage.

“I have to unlock it.” Leo pulled out keys from his pocket. Within just a moment, he had the door unlocked. “You can lock it again from the inside and then come into the house through the other door.”

“Sounds perfect.” I met his gaze—willing him to see my affection and gratitude. I had a couple of hours before I needed to head to the hospital, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend them than with these three.

“Yeah. Do you mind if I have a super-quick shower? I’m getting cold.”

I gestured toward the house. “We’ll be looking at dolls and monster trucks.” The hems of my jeans were damp, but nothing to be concerned about.

While Leo and the kids headed inside, I secured the sleds, then followed them.

Melodie’s curly hair stood in every direction—static cling because of the hat.

Trevor’s was flat against his head.

Leo was nowhere to be found.

I bent to untie my laces. “Okay, hot chocolate? Can you point me in the direction of what I need?”

“Papa makes them in the microwave.” Melodie gestured to the kitchen.

I trailed after her and, with great precision, followed her directions to make four mugs of hot chocolate.

Don’t think about Leo in the shower. Because that’ll lead to all kinds of awkward situations.

Just as we sat at the dining room table to consume the drinks, Leo joined us. He’d changed into a hunter-green wool sweaterwith a huge snowflake on the front. The color accented his eyes. He’d added gray track pants and thick black-wool socks.

“You look cozy.”

He grinned. “Yes, thank you.” He fluffed his hair. “Washed it this morning, so I didn’t need to again.” He sat, and I passed him a mug. He offered a grateful smile. “I thought you were going to be looking at toys.”

“Priorities.” I’d made small ones for the kids, since we’d all be eating dinner soon. “One cookie now or after dinner?”

“Oh please, Papa.” Melodie put her hands together in the universal symbol of begging.

“Yeah. Please.” Trevor gazed back and forth between the adults—clearly trying to figure out who had more power in this weird dynamic.

“One.”

The word had barely left Leo’s mouth before both kids scampered into the kitchen to retrieve the tin.

Leo wagged his finger at me.

I shrugged.

“Chicken fingers, carrots, and fries okay?”

I gazed.

“No, I don’t eat the fries. I only eat ones I can steal off other people’s plates.”

“You can steal off mine.”

“Here are the cookies.” Melodie put the container on the table before her father. She and Trevor scampered back into their seats.

With deliberateness, Leo opened the container and sniffed. A wide grin spread across his face. “Okay, that smell alone is worth the price of admission.”

“Papa.” Trevor speaking. Slightly irritated.