He exhales, my body moving against his with the movement. “I don’t know. You seemed like you needed one. I’ve been told I’m a fixer so I guess it was instinct.”
He might be onto something because I have a feeling if there were something that could fix me, it’d be the deep timbre of his voice accompanied by his stable hold.
“What’s going on?” he gently asks, rubbing a hand over my bare back.
“I’m a joke. No one is going to hire me again. They’re going to pull me from the cover, all because I can’t make a goddamn garnish for a goat milk fromage blanc which is basically just a garnish in and of itself. I can’t even make a garnish for the garnish! I hadn’t even gotten to the cheesecake yet.”
He pauses, clearly lost for words. When he finally finds them, he hits me with, “Well, if we’re being candid here, who the hell wants goat cheese as a dessert anyway?”
I chuckle into his chest. “It’s so hot that you somewhat understood that.”
“Want to explain to me why the tattooed nanny without a filter is speaking like she owns a Michelin star restaurant?”
Pulling away from his hold, I instantly miss the reassurance. With just that simple hug, I understand a bit of what it is about Kai that my dad likes so much. He’s solid. He’s stable.
“Sorry.” I gesture to his shirt that’s now as covered in flour as I am. “I don’t own a Michelin star restaurant, but I do help kitchens earn them.”
Behind his glasses, I can see the confusion.
“I’m hired out as a contract employee. Chefs hire me for three months at a time to come into their kitchens and fix their dessert programs, typically in hopes of earning a star. Some chefs are excellent at both their dinner and dessert menus, and some just don’t have the knack for the sweets. That’s where I come in.”
“So, Miami . . .”
“I was working in a kitchen there, but I kept fucking everything up. I decided to take the summer off to get ready for my next project. It’s my biggest one yet.”
“And what is this cover you’re so worried about?”
“The cover of Food & Wine magazine. And I’m assuming the headline will read something to the effect of”—I gesture in front of me, as if I were spelling it out—“Miller Montgomery. Can’t bake for shit.”
He nods in understanding. “It’s catchy. I think it’ll sell well.”
A bit of my internal frustration leaves me with the laugh that bubbles from my lips. Like a shot to the chest, the realization hits me that I could potentially like Kai. Especially if he keeps acting all charming and supportive instead of being overbearing about his kid.
“Well, if it counts for anything, I’m thoroughly impressed.”
“Oh good.” I drop my shoulders. “I’ll expect an excerpt from you in my interview. ‘Baseball pitcher from Chicago wonders who the hell would want goat cheese as a dessert, but is impressed nonetheless.’ ”
“Texas, actually.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m from Texas. Austin, to be specific.”
It’s something so small. Such a minuscule fact in the grand scheme of it all, but hearing Kai willingly share information beyond his son’s favorite snack or sleep routine holds a weight I didn’t expect.
“Country boy, huh?”
The mental picture of him in Wranglers, much in the way he wears his baseball pants, is doing all sorts of things to my imagination.
“Miller.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re sexualizing me in your mind right now, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
The corner of his lips tick.
“Your parents, are they still in Texas?”
He begins to gather the dishes I made a mess of, completely ignoring my question. “Why don’t you head out. I’ll clean this up. I don’t want Monty to chew my ass out tomorrow at practice because you woke him when you got home too late. Thanks for your help tonight. I hope Max was okay for you.”
“He was an angel. I truly have no idea where he inherited that from.”
Kai’s back vibrates, but he doesn’t give me the satisfaction of hearing his laugh.
“And so you know, I’m not staying at my dad’s.”
Standing by the sink, Kai’s eyes dart to mine over his shoulder.
“I’m staying in my van in his parking garage.”
“Downtown?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
A disbelieving laugh escapes me. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not staying in a garage in downtown Chicago, Miller. You can stay in my guest room.”
“No thanks.”
“Miller.” His tone bites. “Do not fight me on this.”
I roll my eyes. “You might be a dad, but you’re not mine.”
“Do you need me to call yours so he can tell you how out of your goddamn mind you are?”
“Really, Kai? You’re going to call my dad and tell on me? I’m a little too old for that, don’t you think?”
“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe, then yes. You’re being ridiculous. Stay in my guest room or sleep on his couch. Why would you live in your fucking car?”
Because it keeps me detached. It’s my own space, one with wheels that can take me far away from anything or anyone. My career isn’t conducive to relationships. I love my dad, but I refuse to get attached to having him so close. He needs me to stay away so he can live the life he was always meant to live before I came along.
Kai pulls his hands out from the sink, drying them on a towel. “You going to tell me what this is all about?”
“No.”
“Cool.” He nods his head. “Good talk.”
The tension from our argument begins to dissipate when a smile creeps across my lips.
“Don’t make me laugh right now. I’m annoyed with you.” He points an accusatory finger at me. “I have plenty of space in my side yard. If you’re so hell-bent on living out of your car, will you park there at least? I have water and electrical hookups, and then I’d know—”
“Okay.”
His brows shoot up, surprised I’d give in so fast, I guess. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He exhales a long breath, turning back to the sink. “And just so you know, the only reason I care about this is because it’d be really hard to get a new nanny this late in the season. It has absolutely nothing to do with you as a person. I just want to make that clear.”
That smile I was trying to hide is fully exposed now. “Charming.”
“Now help me clean up from the tornado that came through my kitchen while you tell me more about this job you suck at so badly.”
Using the nearest dish towel, I wind it back, whipping it against his ass.
“Nice try, Miller. But it’s all muscle. I didn’t feel a thing.”
Taking the space next to him, I dry as he washes, and I don’t point out that he has a perfectly good dishwasher two feet away because I like having an excuse to stay. He listens intently as I ramble about my job, asking detailed follow-up questions, and it’s then I realize he’s doing exactly what I asked him to do.
He’s getting to know me.
I already accepted that I was staying for the summer, but as we stand in his kitchen, cleaning together, it feels like the moment that Kai has accepted I’m staying too.
My dad’s smile beams under his baseball hat as he drives us to the airport. It’s the happiest I’ve seen him in a while, reaffirming I made the right decision to spend my summer near him.
I’ve been parked outside of Kai’s place for a week now, but I head to my dad’s each morning so we can share breakfast together. It’s enough of a compromise for him since I’m not staying at his apartment.
“This is nice,” he says. “It feels like the old days when you were a little girl and you’d come to practice with me and hang out in the dugout.”
“Because you bribed me with ice cream.”
“It was worth the investment.” He peeks over at me, his brown eyes wistful as if he were reliving my entire childhood. “Missed you, Millie.”
I squeeze his shoulder. “Missed you too, Dad.”
My phone dings in my lap with another unsaved number. To be candid, most numbers in my phone are unsaved and unknown. What’s the point? I don’t stay in one place long enough to save them.
Unknown: Are you and Monty on the way?