Lucas usually stayed at the office late, buried in work. But tonight, by six o'clock sharp, he was out the door.
"Mr. Hilton, you're… leaving on time?" Alex blinked, surprised.
Lucas didn't answer—he just shot him a look sharp enough to slice through steel.
Realizing his mistake, Alex quickly switched gears. "Right! Got it! Have a safe trip, sir. Wishing you and Miss Sophia a long and happy—uh—forever!"
He practically bowed ninety degrees as Lucas walked out.
Lucas couldn't wait to get home. His mind kept running wild—what if Sophia wasn't there? What if everything she said last night was just another game? What if he walked into an empty house again? Would he have to drag her back this time?
...
In the kitchen, Sophia's hands were dusted white with flour.
Six little pairs of eyes stood in a row, dead serious and watching Mrs. Wilson knead dough like they were soldiers in training. Every so often, a giggle would slip out.
They were making cookies.
