I watch some more of the security footage, fast forwarding a couple of hours while nothing seems to happen. Until something does.
In the footage from the front gate, later in the afternoon, Daniel’s truck pulls up to the gate. He gets out, carrying Terrence! He approaches the gate and gently sets Terrence on the ground and walks away.
“What the hell?” I say to Dolly. She nudges my wrist for attention and I scratch her behind the ear.
“He found our boy. Still doesn’t mean I have to like him.”
Dolly whines and leans her whole body into my hip for a scratch.
“I know you like him. I still say he’s insufferable.”
And that’s exactly what I plan to tell him as I retrieve the butter and flour and begin assembling Daniel’s sorry-and-thank-you peach cobbler.
Chapter Ten
Daniel
I’m heading out to my truck to check on Molly. When I open the front door, though, she’s standing there, looking sheepish, holding a cast-iron skillet.
The thought crosses my mind that she could be here to hit me over the head with that.
But then she smiles.
Not a wicked smile.
A warm smile. A grateful smile.
The kind of smile I’m not sure I’ve done anything to deserve.
“Hi,” I say.
She lifts the lid off the skillet and says, “Hi, yourself.”
I’m almost afraid to look at the contents of the skillet, but of course I have to.
To my relief, it’s not anything gruesome.
It’s a beautiful, old-fashioned Texas peach cobbler.
My mouth waters instantly.
I look up at her and then I notice something else.
She’s wearing a dress…and she has on makeup. A funky leather necklace is looped around her neck, and her hair is tamed into a set of cute braid…things.
She’s gone to a lot of effort to bring me a cobbler, but then maybe she’s on her way out to a date or something. The thought of another man with her causes an angry stirring in my chest. I don’t like it.
The idea that she may have gotten dressed up for someone besides me might actually be pissing me off, though I don’t understand it. She has no obligation to me.
“Wow,” I say. “That looks…and you look…beautiful.”
She grins bigger and then bites her lip. “I wante
d to bring you a thank-you-and-sorry cobbler.”
I laugh. “Come on in,” I say, moving out of the way for her to come inside.
She brushes past me and the aroma of the cobbler combined with her tart, fruity scent is about to do me in.