10
Holt had spent most of his military career getting up well before the ass crack of dawn. From basic training to PT to missions, there was always something keeping him from lolling around in bed, so the prospect of more of the same as a professional baker hadn’t fazed him much. Not until those hours meant leaving a still sleeping Cayla behind. He liked being cuddled up with her, feeling the easy rise and fall of her breathing. And he liked being around for the morning routine of getting Maddie up and off to school. Starting his day off with both their smiles was like being injected with a little shot of sunshine. Plus, his help meant Cayla was a bit less rushed. A little less stressed.
But work was work, and he’d made promises to his partners before he’d made vows to his wife, so he hauled his ass in to the bakery well before the dark and early to help stock their cases for the limited run they had planned for the day. In honor of BB, he made banana nut muffins, along with lemon poppyseed scones, and a cinnamon streusel coffeecake he suspected was going to fly off the shelves when they opened at 7:30. It was still in the oven when he stripped off his apron.
“Hey, can you take care of that coffee cake? It’s got another twenty minutes before it needs to come out. I’m gonna run home to help Cayla get Maddie off to school. I’ll be back as soon as we get her dropped off.”
“No worries. Tell the missus we said hi.” Jonah batted his long-lashed eyes.
Brax thumped him on the arm. “Hey, we can handle the morning rush if you and Cayla want to take advantage of that empty house.”
“Are we really making excuses so he can bang his wife?”
Brax rolled his eyes. “You’re a pig. And at this point, yeah. I feel flat sorry for him. They didn’t get a kidless honeymoon.”
“Our perpetually interrupted love life is none of your business, although thanks for the offer. She’s got a client meeting early, so no time for a post-school-drop-off tryst.”
“Did he really just say, ‘tryst?’” Jonah wanted to know.
“I don’t even want to know what you’d call it. I’ll be back.” Leaving his friends bickering in the kitchen, he bagged a few of the muffins and headed for home.
Brax’s suggestion wasn’t a bad one. They both ran their own businesses. If they could just schedule a block of uninterrupted time while Maddie was in school… Well, he could think of a million and one erotic ways to spend it.
Satisfied with the idea and intent on planting that little seed in Cayla’s head before they went their separate ways for the day, Holt was smiling as he slid out of the driver’s seat.
Then he opened the kitchen door and walked into absolute pandemonium.
Maddie was sobbing. Cayla had her hand fisted in BB’s ruff, her own eyes red-rimmed as she struggled to wrestle the dog back outside. The smell. Dear God, the smell. BB had unquestionably been skunked. Holt crossed over, registering that he was sloshing through water coming from… somewhere.
He opened his mouth to ask what happened, but shut it again when he saw Cayla’s face. She was barely holding it together, and he recognized that one more thing was going to send her over the edge. Instead, he scooped Maddie up, sniffing to see if the skunk had gotten her, too. Just the hands, probably from petting BB.
He sat her on the counter and pointed. “Stay. And don’t touch anything.”
From Maddie’s room, he grabbed the dog crate, tossing out the bed and carrying the whole thing straight out the back door. Cayla followed him out, nudging BB into it and shutting her in.
She straightened, shoving her hair out of her face with the back of a hand. Her shoulders shook. “I have a client meeting in forty minutes. Maddie’s going to be late for school. All I wanted was the chance to refinish that table and chairs for the office this afternoon, so I can finally have clients come there instead of going to them. And now…” Her voice choked.
Holt’s brain was already running scenarios, prioritizing tasks. Mission prerogative: Keep his wife from crying. “Do we have hydrogen peroxide?”
She sniffled. A dangerous sound. “I… yes. In the bathroom, under the sink.”
He bolted to the back, snagging the hydrogen peroxide and hurrying back to the kitchen. As the only one who hadn’t touched skunked dog fur, he dug through the cabinet for the baking soda and dish soap, mixing up a quick batch of de-skunking solution. They’d need more for the dog, but she wasn’t the top priority. Scooping Maddie up with one arm, he carried her to the sink and helped her wash and dry her hands before doing another sniff test. She was gonna need a change of clothes.
“Wash your hands and arms with that,” Holt told Cayla. “I’ll get her changed.”
“I don’t wanna change!” Maddie wailed in a register that reminded him of nothing so much as an incoming mortar round.
“No choice, baby girl. You smell like skunk. Nobody at school wants to sniff that.”
“But this shirt is my f… f… favorite!”
He eyed the sleeping sloth across the front of her t-shirt. Last week, the favorite had been one with unicorns. He supposed it was a kid’s prerogative to change her mind. “We’ll get it washed, and you can wear it tomorrow.” Adding that to his mental to do list, he stripped the shirt up and off, grabbing the nearest one that came to hand and helping her into it.
“I don’t like this shirt!”
Struggling for patience himself, Holt crouched down. “Bumblebee, sometimes we have to do things in life we don’t like. Today is one of those days. Your mom is having a hard day already, and we don’t need to make it worse, okay?”
Maddie rolled into a magnificent pout, but the tears stopped, so he was calling it a win. He scooped her up again, grabbing her backpack on the way through the living room and sloshing back into the kitchen. Cayla still stood at the kitchen sink.
“Do you need to change?”
“Probably.”
“Go do that. I’ll get her buckled in.”
Bypassing the Camry, he settled Maddie into the car seat he’d bought for the 4-Runner, tucking the backpack and lunchbox at her feet.
“I’ll be right back. Do not unbuckle that seatbelt.”
Back inside, he paused to verify the source of the water. Something had busted on the dishwasher. A hose. Or maybe the door seal. He wouldn’t know for sure until he got it pulled out. It was a damned good thing the floors in here were tiled. Grabbing up a stack of the second string towels from the laundry room, he dumped them at the edge of the room to contain the water until he could get back and deal with it.
Cayla was in the closet, pulling on a fresh blouse. Her movements were brittle, her hands shaking.
Holt cornered her inside, stroking his palms down her arms. “Take a breath.”
The glare she shot him was clearly meant to vaporize.
“I’ve got Maddie. I’ll take her to school. You go on to your client meeting.”
“I need to reschedule. The dishwasher—”
“I’ll handle it.”
“And the dog—”
“I brought her into this household. I’m responsible for her. I’ll take care of the bath and whatever else is necessary. Seriously, you need to get the hell out of here and let it all go for the rest of the day. I’ll take care of all this.”
“You have work, too.”
“I have two business partners who can cover me. You don’t. Let me do this. Go do what you need to do. I’ll pick Maddie up from school this afternoon, and you can still get your painting time in. We can trade off after that so I can get to the custom order on my plate today.”