He walked around toward the back of the house, prepared to taunt her a little about getting a late start. Instead he found only Dani in the kitchen, standing on a chair in front of the sink, carefully pouring cereal into a bowl.
Hiding his disappointment, he tapped on the screen door. When Dani turned toward him and her face lit up, he felt the oddest sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was almost…paternal, he thought with amazement, or at least what he took to be some sort of fatherly emotion. Relief that he could experience such a sensation flooded through him. It would certainly make his future with Kelly less complicated.
“Hi, Jordan. Want some breakfast?”
Stepping inside, he eyed the frosted cereal warily. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s really, really good.”
She looked so hopeful that he relented. “Okay, maybe just a little.”
She stretched on tiptoe, teetering just enough to cause his breath to catch in his throat. Reaching into the cupboard, she withdrew another bowl, a very large bowl. Then she upended the box and dumped in enough cereal to feed an army.
“Hey,” he protested, “I said a little bit.”
She gave him another of those disarming smiles. “I think you’re going to really, really like it.”
Leaving the box on the counter, she climbed down while Jordan held his breath and barely restrained the urge to pluck her up and set her feet firmly on the floor himself. He did manage to grab the bowls before she could and put those safely on the table.
She retrieved a carton of milk from the refrigerator and a pair of spoons from a drawer. It seemed to be a routine with which she was disturbingly familiar. It gave him yet another argument to use on Kelly. If they were married, she wouldn’t be out of the house so much or so exhausted that her daughter was up before her, as he suspected might be the case this morning. At any rate, if he had his way, Dani would have a full-time mother.
“All set?” he inquired dryly, watching her precise preparations.
Looking an awful lot like her mother had years ago, she bit her lower lip and studied the table thoughtfully. “We need a banana,” she decided.
She scampered into the pantry and returned with a banana. With surprisingly deft little fingers, she peeled it, broke it almost in two and plopped the larger piece into his bowl and kept the smaller for herself.
“Maybe we should slice it,” Jordan observed.
“I can’t. Mommy doesn’t let me use knives when she’s not here.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m here,” he said. He opened a drawer and retrieved one.
“How come you know where the knives are?”
“Because I’ll bet I’ve been in this kitchen almost as many times as you have,” he told her.
She tilted her head and studied him suspiciously. “How come? I live here.”
He grinned at her. “Ah, yes, but I grew up practically next door and I was over here almost every day when your mom and I were kids. Nothing much has changed in here.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You’ve known Mommy a really, really long time.”
“Forever,” he agreed, surprised at how easily conversation came with this pint-size version of his oldest friend. Why had he never noticed before that Dani wasn’t really so terrifying? She was just a little person with obvious views already forming. He already knew about her powers of persuasion.
“Speaking of your mom, where is she this morning? Still sleeping?”
“No. She left a long time ago. She’s mending fences right outside. She says I can come find her when I’m done with breakfast.” She eyed him speculatively. “Maybe you should come, too. Can you string wire?”
“With the best of them,” he affirmed.
She gave a little satisfied nod. “Good, because I can’t really help. Mommy’s afraid I’ll get barbed wire stuck in my backside.”
“A very real danger,” Jordan said, trying not to chuckle out loud. He took his first tentative bite of cereal. To a man whose cereal consumption was usually confined to bran flakes, this stuff was sweet enough to make him gag. He noticed that Dani was watching him intently, a worried frown puckering her brow.
“Don’t you like it?” she asked, sounding like an uncertain cook whose very first meal was on the table.
“It’s…” He struggled to find a word that wouldn’t offend, but also wouldn’t encourage her to offer him more—ever. “It’s different.”
She gave a tiny sigh of resignation. “Too sweet, huh?”
“A little bit,” he confirmed.
“That’s what Mommy says, too. She says it makes her gag. I only get to have it on weekends, so it won’t destroy my brain cells.”
Jordan grinned. “I don’t think your brain cells are in any immediate danger. You seem pretty bright to me.”
“Thank you,” she said politely.
They ate their cereal in companionable silence after that. The instant Dani had finished hers, she picked up the bowl and carried it back to the sink and climbed deftly back onto the same chair so she could reach the faucets. She rinsed the bowl and stacked it in the drainer. Jordan carried his own bowl to the sink.
“I’ll wash it for you,” the child offered.
“No way,” he said. “Fair’s fair. You fixed breakfast. I can at least wash my own bowl.”
Dani climbed down without argument. “I’ll go brush my teeth and then we can go.” She eyed him worriedly again. “Do you have a toothbrush with you? Mommy says it’s important to brush your teeth at least twice a day, especially after breakfast, so your teeth won’t rot.”
“After all that sugar, I can see why it would be a concern,” Jordan agreed. “Don’t worry about me, though, I’ll take care of my teeth.”
“You won’t leave without me, will you?”
“Nope. I’ll be waiting right here.”
“Maybe you’d like to see the kittens before we go,” she said hopefully. “They’re getting really, really big. You might want one, after all. Mr. Adams is taking the tiger-striped one, so you can’t have him. And Jessie said
