Page 50 of The Penalty

“Really?”

“Yep. It was one of my favorite meals. I made her show me how to make them when I moved out. I called her and made her walk me through the steps so many times.”

“That’s so cute,” she tells me and I see McKenzie smile out of the corner of my eye.

“Is there anything your mom makes that you love that much?” I ask Kylie.

“Yeah, she makes this lasagna soup that I can’t get enough of. It’s so good.”

“Hmm, yeah, I think I remember that.” Kylie’s mom and I weren’t together long once we hit the age where we had to cook for ourselves, but we did try for a little. “What about you, McKenzie? Any meals you miss from your mom’s kitchen?”

“Um, yeah. This is going to sound lame, but she makes really good spaghetti and meatballs. She makes her sauce from scratch, and it’s just the best. I’ve tried to make it myself, but it never comes out exactly right.”

“It took me several tries to get the enchiladas right. Maybe you can make us your mom’s spaghetti one night. I’d love to try it.” I’m about to offer to pay for the ingredients, but I have a feeling that won’t go over well. One thing I’ve noticed about McKenzie is that she’s fiercely independent. As much as I want to help her in the ways that I can, I know she doesn’t want that. Hell, she barely wants to stay in my house, but that’s one area where I’ve put my foot down. She can be mad all she wants as long as she’s safe.

“Yeah, I can do that,” she finally says.

Kylie starts telling us some stories about her mother’s failed cooking experiments, and while I try not to laugh, I can totally see Shae burning the top of a casserole or accidentally using horseradish instead of mayonnaise.

“Thanks for dinner, Coach,” McKenzie says when we’ve all cleared our plates.

“Of course. Figured I’d give you girls a break from cooking.”

“It’s about time,” Kylie teases.

“I’ll do the dishes,” McKenzie says, standing from her place at the table.

“I can do them.” I reach out to grab her plate and accidentally brush my fingers against hers. She lets out a barely audible inhale before she nods and lets go of the plate.

“Not gonna lie, Dad. You might have to start cooking more often because that was pretty good.”

I chuckle softly at my daughter before I start cleaning up. “Before you got here, I lived off grilled chicken and rice. I do need to start cooking again. I used to cook all the time, but I guess I just got busy.”

“You’ll never find a girlfriend by just making chicken and rice,” Kylie scoffs.

Kylie and I don’t talk about my dating life much, mainly because there really hasn’t been anything to tell her. She knows I’ve had a few relationships but none of them worked out. Dating has never been a priority for me. And now, I’m stuck on a twenty-two-year-old woman who I need to stay far away from.

“Not looking for one of those, Ky.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know. I know. The eternal bachelor. Honestly, I just want you off the market so my friends stop talking like they have a chance with you. It’s gross.”

I glance at McKenzie in time to see her go rigid. I know Kylie still doesn’t suspect anything between me and McKenzie, but it makes me hate myself even more that I’m considering going behind her back again for one last kiss from McKenzie.

McKenzie’s phone vibrates in her hand and she looks at the screen and smiles. “Matty, hey.”

Matty. . . I think that’s one of her brothers.

The smile falls from her face. “What?” She listens to whatever her brother is saying. “No. That’s not possible.”

Kylie and I share a look of confusion.

“No,” she says again, but her voice is a little more shaky. She listens for a few seconds longer before she hangs up without another word. She stands completely still, just staring at her phone screen.

“McKenzie?” Kylie says softly. “Is everything ok?”

And then McKenzie drops to the floor and breaks down in sobs.

TWENTY-ONE