okay, Millie.” Frannie leaned her elbows on the counter across from us and smiled at my oldest. “It’s tricky and takes practice. I used to mess that up all the time too. And you did a great job making sure the batter was mixed enough. Our meringue was perfect, and that’s quite a feat for your first time.” She’d changed out of her work shirt and was wearing a loose-fitting gray top that sort of fell off one shoulder, revealing something white and lacy underneath.
Quickly, I dropped my eyes to my food and concentrated on eating. In fact, I scarfed down the first bowl of chili Frannie had given me so fast I burned my tongue, but I didn’t care. It was hot and delicious, thick with chicken and vegetables.
“Daddy, can we watch Andy Mack?” Millie asked, hopping down from her chair. “Frannie said we had to wait until you got home to have screen time.”
I nodded to the girls. “It’s okay.”
The kids wandered into the front room and turned on the TV while I scraped the bottom of my bowl. When every last bite was gone, I set down my spoon and put my hands on my stomach. “God, that was good.”
“There’s more,” Frannie offered.
“Sold.” Grabbing my empty bowl, I slid off my chair and went around the counter. “One more bowl and then I’ll drive you home.”
“Oh, you don’t have to drive me home,” she said as I moved past her to the stove, taking care not to let my body brush against hers.
“I promised your mother I would.” I took the top off the pot of chili and scooped more into my bowl. “And the driving’s bad. I wouldn’t feel right putting you out on the roads, especially not when you’ve done so much for me today.” Although the last thing I wanted to do was hit the roads again. I’d have to take the girls with me, since the blizzard made the drive time too long to leave them alone.
“It was no big deal. I enjoyed it. My days can be pretty monotonous at the desk, especially in the winter when the inn gets slow.”
I put the top back on the pot and moved around her again, taking my chair at the counter. “Do you like working reception? Is there another job you’re interested in at Cloverleigh?”
She shrugged and leaned on the counter again. “Chloe offered to let me manage the Traverse City tasting room, but I actually don’t know that much about the wine. I’m better off at the inn. I like working with food, especially baking.”
“From what I hear, you’re amazing at it—and from what I taste, of course. Have you ever thought about opening a bakery?”
Her eyes dropped to her hands. “A little.”
“And?”
She didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know. It takes a lot of time and money to start a business, and I’m not very … adventurous. I don’t think I’d make a very good entrepreneur.”
“I think you could do anything you set your mind to,” I told her.
“Really?” She looked up and smiled softly, making my heart skip a few beats.
“Really.”
“I guess I could talk to my dad,” she said with a sigh. “But my mother would have a problem with it.”
“Why?”
She straightened up and leaned back against the island, rolling her eyes a little. “It’s not a big deal, really, but I was born with a heart defect that puts me at a slightly higher risk for a heart attack, believe it or not, so she’s always worried about stress.”
“I never knew that,” I said, realizing there were probably a lot of things about her I didn’t know, and wanted to. “Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, I had surgeries to correct the problem when I was younger, but my mother has always been overly protective—both my parents, actually. Even though the doctors say I’m fine, I feel like my parents look at me and see a sick kid.”
Placing my spoon in the empty bowl, I carried it to the sink. “As a father, I can understand that. We can’t help seeing our kids as innocent, helpless babies who need our protection.”
“Well, I’m not a baby,” she snapped. “And I don’t want to be treated like one.”
I turned around and looked at her in surprise. I’d never heard her speak angrily. “I’m sorry, Frannie. I didn’t mean you’re a baby. I meant that it’s hard for a dad to let go. Mentally, we know our kids need us to, so they can