Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,36

fu—I messed up.”

“He owes me six dollars!” the adorable little snitch exclaimed, looking up at her aunt and hopping in place with excitement. “I’m gonna buy ice cream!”

Well shit. She was just so damn enthusiastic about the idea of having six bucks, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her no. Pulling my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans, I flipped it open and fished out six ones, handing it over to the little extortionist.

She actually fanned the bills out and counted, making sure they were all there before tucking them into the waistband of her tutu with a resounding nod.

Had to appreciate the kid’s smarts. She played me with her super cuteness before showing her ruthless side and going in for the kill.

“All right, well I’m gonna go before this little monster cleans me out.”

“Mike, wait!”

I looked down at the kid who looked so much like her mom, thinking, Christ, the men in this town are so fucked when she gets older. “Yeah, Monster?”

“Wanna have dinner with us? Mommy’s makin’ man-a . . . somethin’—”

“Manicotti, sweets,” Sylvia assisted.

“Yeah, dat! And it’s super good! You wanna come over? Please, please, please?”

Something told me she wasn’t used to hearing the word no, especially from men, and I wasn’t a big fan of being the one to burst that bubble. If the circumstances were different, I’d have told her yes in a heartbeat. But I had a feeling her mom wouldn’t be thrilled with me just walking in and sitting down at the dinner table.

“Sorry, kid. Maybe some other time.”

Her whole face fell like I’d just told her Christmas was canceled this year because Santa had gotten into a sleigh crash, Rudolph had died on the scene, and two of the other reindeer were in critical condition.

“Oh,” she whispered, looking down at the ground as she stuffed the toe of her glittery combat boot into the grass. “Okay.”

Shit. I hadn’t technically done anything wrong, but I still felt like the world’s biggest jerk. I needed to get the hell out of there fast before I gave her the rest of the cash in my wallet just to bring the smile back to her face.

“You ladies have a good evenin’, yeah?” I told her and Sylvia. “And enjoy that manicotti.”

I jerked my chin up to Sylvia before quickly turning and hustling toward my house like a goddamn coward.

Hayden

The back door opened as I was filling the manicotti shells with my special cheese mixture. “Hey, guys. Dinner’ll be ready in a little less than an hour. I just need to . . .” My sentence trailed off when I saw the dejected expression on my daughter’s face. “What’s the matter, love bug?” She’d been out in the garden with Sylvia, pulling weeds and pruning the plants, so I couldn’t imagine what could have happened to put that look on her face.

She hung her head, her sadness filling the air all around her little body. “My new friend Mike won’t have dinner with us.”

I looked to Sylvia in confusion. “Mike?”

“Micah,” she clarified. “Our little princess spotted him when he got home from work and took an interest.”

“He gave me six dollars for the swear jar.”

“Wait . . .” I shook my head. “He gave you money? For swearing?”

“Yu-huh. He said a bad word, then a really bad word. So I told him he gots to gimme six dollars, and he did.”

I put down a partially filled manicotti and wiped my hands on the dishtowel I’d hung over my shoulder. “Honey, that swear jar is something for you and me. You don’t tell just anyone they owe you money for saying bad words.”

I caught Sylvia curling her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing out loud.

“But—but he gave it to me.”

I gave her a mom look and held my hand out. She heaved out a huge sigh and rolled her eyes so far back in her head she could probably see her spine before pulling the cash out of her tutu and handing it over.

“Thank you. Now, what was this about dinner?”

“I asked him to come. I told him your man-i-stuff was super yummy, but he said he would some other time,” she moped. “I wanted him to eat with us.”

Ah hell.

“Well, honey, maybe he’s just tired. You know, he has a really important, stressful job.” Or maybe he didn’t want anything to do with me because he thought I was a bitch. Mainly because I’d been acting like one since that first run-in