Page 9

M y first week at the Wilcox residence passes in a flash between carting Lily to camp and swim lessons, and keeping her out of Maggie’s hair for the remainder of the time.

We’ve done everything, from more nature walks (which Lily seems to love), coloring for hours, a variety of simple learning activities, and, of course, playing with her coveted dolls.

It’s Friday, and I thought I’d let Lily show me around Maple Ridge Hollow, the nearest town to Maggie’s orchard. It’s also home to the elementary school and community center, two places I’ve become familiar with already.

“Does Momma have to work late again tonight?” Lily’s voice fills the quiet space of my SUV .

Adjusting the rear-view mirror with one hand, I take in the crease between her eyebrows and her pursed lips.

Clearly, she doesn’t like all the extra hours Maggie has been putting in, staying locked in her office most of the day and into the evening for the past few days.

I’m not sure what their routine was like before I showed up, but the change seems to be taking a toll on both Maggie and Lily.

“I hope not, little one. But how about we do something nice for her. Yeah?”

Her eyebrows rise. “Like what?”

This morning, dark circles marred the flesh under Maggie’s eyes, and her beautiful curls lacked their usual luster. Every fiber of my being wants to swoop in and take away whatever is causing her so much stress, but since our almost kiss in the kitchen, she’s kept her distance.

Not knowing the full extent of her past, the last thing I want to do is come on too strong.

Okay, that ship may have sailed… far away, lost at sea.

I’ll admit, I got a little carried away that night. But she smelled so fucking good. And when her pulse raced under the soft caress of my thumb, my vampire instincts took over. Every fiber of my being wanted to lean in and taste her, sink my fangs into those luscious pink lips and drink her down.

Even now, the mere memory has a low ache growing in my fangs. I bite back a groan, eyes flashing to the child in the back seat.

Somehow, I stopped myself from kissing her at the last minute, and I’ve been a good boy the past few days, taking Maggie’s cues and giving her the room she needs .

That doesn’t mean I can’t still do nice things for her, which is my plan for tonight.

“It is Friday. How about we make something special for dinner to surprise her? Sound good, little one?”

That idea gets a smile of approval as Lily’s head bobs in agreement.

No one wants to be stuck working late on the gateway to the weekend.

Not when you could be spending time with a child as sweet as Lily.

Tonight, I’m determined to get Maggie to quit work early to have a much-needed relaxing evening with her daughter.

Gripping the steering wheel, I turn out of the library parking lot, heading down Main Street toward the quaint little grocery store in town. “What does she like to eat?”

My gaze flits between the road in front of me and Lily’s contemplative face in the mirror.

She hums, tapping one small finger on her chin. I chuckle. Over the past few days, I’ve come to find Lily can be a little dramatic, but it’s all part of her charm.

In all truth, she’s one of the easiest children I’ve ever cared for. Her exuberance is contagious, and she’s eager to learn, scarfing down every morsel I teach her, then asking for more.

It’s one thing to be enamored with her mother, but Lily has easily stolen my heart, too.

Mind finally made up, Lily proclaims, “Chocolate and vegetables!”

Okay, not my first choice, but I can make it work.

Before I can respond, she sticks out her tongue, nose wrinkled in disgust. “I don’t like vegetables. But Momma makes me eat them. ”

I’m chuckling again as I pull into the store’s parking lot and find a spot close to the cart return. “Duly noted. No veggies for Lily. As scrumptious as chocolate and vegetables sound, I think we’ll need a few more ingredients. Ready to go shopping?”

A half hour later, we have a cart full of everything I’ll need to make a special dinner for Maggie.

Since we’re short on time, I opted for pre-marinated chicken breasts from the store’s butcher counter.

Lily managed to sneak a few unnecessary items into the cart, too, but I figure a week of big changes warrants a few treats… after some vegetables, of course.

After paying the cashier, I push the cart out to my car with Lily riding on the back. Little fingers curled around the metal bars, she squeals. “Faster, Viktor! Faster!”

I give in to her enthusiasm, using a tiny fraction of my supernatural speed to zoom us the rest of the way to the car.

It’s worth potentially looking ridiculous to any passersby just to have Lily’s contagious giggles surrounding me.

Each new burst of laughter fills my heart like I’ve never experienced.

The almost-instant attachment I have to this child—and her mother—should be frightening.

Father wants me back in the city and settled down with a “nice vampire girl,” but that’s the last thing I want.

After only a week, I can easily envision a life with Maggie and Lily.

Waking up early to cook them breakfast. Enjoying my morning blood coffee with their chatter as the soundtrack, before spending the day in the orchard.

Even though I’m not quite sure what that entails, it still sounds pretty good to me.

Much better than being stuck in some stuffy office, pouring over meaningless numbers and trying to make the rich even richer.

No, thank you.

I just haven’t figured out how to make it blatantly clear to my father that the future he wants for me isn’t the life I want for myself.

Before the cart collides with the side of my shiny black SUV, I slow us to a stop. With it, I slow my racing thoughts of the future.

It’s too soon.

I’m sure to send Maggie screaming and running to the peaks of the Appalachians if I confess my overwhelming infatuation with her so soon. “Give her time to warm up to you,” I murmur while loading the bags into the trunk.

“Who are you talking to?”

So observant. I huff a laugh at Lily’s question, loading the last bag and closing the trunk.

“No one, little one.” I boop her on the nose, making another giggle bubble from her throat, before returning our cart. “Ready to head home?”

With an enthusiastic nod, she hops into her booster seat once I open the car door. After securing her seat belt, I can’t help myself, and I bend to place a kiss on the top of her head.

The journey home is a quiet one, with Lily engrossed in her library book, and me lost in my thoughts of Maggie .

I’m so distracted that I almost forget where to turn, but the rundown Sweet Orchard Dreams sign on the side of the road signals the entrance to the long driveway to Maggie’s house. It’s become a landmark for me over the past week, but it could use a little TLC.

Parking, I notice the garage is open and Maggie’s truck is inside. Good, she’s home.

Lily and I spent most of our day in town, exploring and having a picnic lunch at the park, before checking out the library. I’m still not familiar with Maggie’s daily schedule, but my nerves settle for some reason at the knowledge that she’s just inside… waiting for our return.

“Lily, why don’t you go inside and play while I unload the groceries? Okay?” I help her unbuckle and get out of the back seat before she runs to the door. Hopefully, she doesn’t interrupt her mom and spill the beans about our dinner surprise. I smile at the thought.

The smile stays firmly in place as I zip in and out of the house, unloading the bags of groceries onto the kitchen counters.

Continuing to speed around the kitchen, I gather bowls and pans, getting everything I need to prepare our feast. Cooking for others is one of my favorite things. Knowing a dish I made brings someone I care about even a flicker of joy brings me joy.

And it’s become abundantly obvious in the past week that I care about Maggie and Lily, even if we still have a lot to learn about each other.

Eventually, Lily comes to investigate, crawling onto one of the stools tucked under the kitchen island. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she props her chin on her hands. Eyes wide, she tracks each flash and swish of my hands as they blur between various dishes.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

Stopping mid-stir, I lift my head from the large mixing bowl to meet the question lingering in her green eyes. “Everyone loves my double chocolate raspberry cheesecake.” I wink.

Lily giggles, snagging a runaway chocolate chip from the counter and popping it into her mouth.

“Hand me the rest of those, will you?” I tip my chin to the open bag of chocolate chips in front of her. “Actually, why don’t you dump them in while I stir?”

Her eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. “The whole bag?”

“The whole bag,” I confirm. Because Maggie loves chocolate chips. And this is for her.

An avalanche of sweet morsels fall onto the dark-brown batter, and I fold them together with gentle turns of my rubber spatula. The rich aroma fills my nostrils with each flick of my wrist until, finally, everything is combined. “Perfect. You’re such a great helper, little one.”

Lily beams at my praise.

Transferring the mixture into the graham cracker crust—chocolate, of course, because you can never have too much—I prepared earlier, I set it in the pre-heated oven to bake.

Five o’clock rolls around before Maggie’s office door finally creaks open.

My heart picks up speed at the sight of the messy blonde bun bobbing on top of her head and the smile lighting up her face.

She still has dark rings under her eyes, giving away how tired she truly is, but at least she’s smiling .

Sniffing the air, she steps into the kitchen. It’s clean now. I like to wash and dry dishes as I go, so I’m not left with a mess once I’m done. That way, I get to enjoy the food with the people I made it for.