I sit down next to her. “I guess we should get to work, huh?” I snag a cracker and nibble on it while she opens up her notes and we find the appropriate chapter. “You know, when I was little, I used to call these Wheat Things.”
She cracks up at that, so I laugh along with her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the smile break out on Liam’s face right before he leaves us to her studies.
Is it weird that I wish this were a normal occurrence? Olivia and I here at the kitchen island working on homework and grading papers side by side, Liam watching over us? A little tug on my heart tells me it would mean everything to me if that’s how this were to end up, but the truth is there’s a rough path between reality and that pretty little fantasy I’m building up in my head.
About an hour later, we wrap things up. “You know, I’m really impressed by how easily you’re absorbing everything we’ve talked about today. I’m super proud of your progress.”
Olivia flashes a dimple at me that I hadn’t noticed before. “Thanks. It’s not hard when you’re actually paying attention.” She gives me a sheepish grin.
I pause for a few beats, wanting to ask her about what’s going on with the whole boy thing, but not inclined to pry too much either. “Everything okay with that issue?” I slide a glance at her and note that her body stiffens ever so slightly.
“They’re still teasing me about whether or not they’ll tell him they saw me put the note in his locker. I’ve decided I don’t care.” She shrugs. “He either finds out and ignores me, finds out and tells me to get over myself, or”—she shrugs—“maybe he’s interested.”
I can hear the longing in her voice and it takes me right back to high school when a certain boy caught my eye and I hadn’t known how to deal with it, how to tell him. I side-eye her. “I understand all that more than you know.” I pat her hand. “There’s nothing to do about it unless you want to talk to him directly.”
She sucks in air through her teeth as she grins nervously. “I think I’m too scared to know what he thinks.”
We both turn at the sound of a throat clearing. “Ms. Lockmore, it’s getting late. Can I offer you dinner? We’re making tacos tonight.” Liam glances from me to Olivia, his eyes tender when they land on her. I can’t be sure if he’d overheard my conversation with her or not, but either way, he’s just so damn sweet with her. “Assuming you’re up to it, Olivia. Your appetite’s been funky.”
“Actually, I’m starving. I could totally eat.” She turns her head to see what my response will be. “What about you, Ms. Lockmore? Is your stomach up for tacos?”
“I could manage tacos. In fact, I think you have magical Wheat Things,”—we share a smile—“because I’m feeling just fine now.”
I glance over at Liam. “Thank you for the offer. What can I do to help?”
Olivia eyes me, as if sizing up my kitchen skills. “Well, Dad usually makes me grate the cheese because he hates doing it, but if you do it, I can slice up the peppers instead.” She gives a hopeful grin.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve left me to deal with the raw chicken and the crybabies.”
My eyes dart between the two of them as they make faces at each other. So damn cute. “Please explain yourselves. What are crybabies?”
Liam makes a disgruntled noise, pulling the ingredient out of the bin on the counter. “Onions. She laughs at me every time I cry over them, but never offers to help me out.”
Olivia presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. She lifts her hands, palms up with a little shrug. “I thought he enjoyed acting like the big man and protecting me from them.”
He works his jaw back and forth. “Oh really?”
She giggles. “Really.” And then a few seconds later, “Chop, chop, Daddy-o.”
Oh my heart. “I’ll cut them up, if you want.” I hold out my hands for them.
“You sure?” Liam hesitates.
“Yep. What do you want? Slices?”
“Yes, please. You really don’t have to, though. I’m never going to live this down if I invite you to have dinner with us and you end up crying.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. I’ll be fine. I have some tricks up my sleeve.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He eyes me playfully, smirking. He gestures to the cutting board and knife, then busies himself with preparing the chicken.
I circle the counter and smirk right back. “Challenge accepted.”
“O-M-G, I can’t believe this is happening right in our kitchen.” Olivia laughs with delight as she gets out the cheese and the grater as well as a knife, cutting board, and two peppers.
Getting to work, I wash my hands, then move the cutting board to a spot on the counter right next to the vent hood. I flip it on, then go to work peeling and slicing the onions.
Liam finishes up with the chicken, then crosses his arms and leans a hip against the counter next to me. “So, the vent hood, huh?”