owie?”
Callie turned to see him in the kitchen doorway.
Both boys fell silent and stared at Deacon.
“I didn’t mean to abandon you,” she told Deacon.
“No problem.”
“James, Ethan, this is my friend Deacon Holt.”
“Hello,” James said.
Ethan stayed silent.
Deacon stepped into the kitchen and crouched on his haunches. “Hello, James. Hi, Ethan. You probably don’t remember, but I saw you at Downright Sweet last week. You were having cookies.”
“Color candies,” Ethan said.
“That’s exactly what you had.”
“I had peanut butter,” James said.
“I had a warm monster cookie,” Deacon said.
“Purple juice,” Ethan said, holding up his juice box as proof.
“I see that.” Deacon’s gaze took in the purple streak that ran across the white patterned linoleum.
“Oh, dang,” Callie said, remembering the spill. If she didn’t get it wiped up, it would stain.
She crossed to the sink and soaked a cloth with hot water.
“I’ll get that.” Deacon’s voice directly behind her made her jump.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She wasn’t about to let him scrub her floor.
“You look way too good to be cleaning floors.” He gently but firmly took the cloth from her hand.
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