Epilogue
Fiona’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped into an O. She took the pink and purple apron from Sloan. “I get princesses?”
“You sure do, sweetheart. You’re going to be in charge of the powdered sugar.”
She hugged it to herself and spun from side to side. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
He moved to Lucas, who’d already put on his NASCAR apron. “Hold it like this, then drizzle the honey out in a thin, swooshy line.” He demonstrated on a paper plate. “Give it a practice try.”
“I think the oil’s hot enough,” said April, whose bright yellow apron had a more adult, geometric motif. “It’s wavy, like you said.”
“Okay, flatten the dough into a circle with the heel of your hand, like this.” She did as he demonstrated. “Perfect. Now take the tongs and gently place it in the oil. Try not to drop it, or it will splatter.”
Joanne walked into the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here.”
“I got princesses!” yelled Fiona. “And I do the sugar.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job.” She crossed to Sloan and slipped her hand around his waist. “David’s going to be here in about twenty minutes to pick up the kids.”
“Where’s he taking us?” asked Lucas.
“Laser golf and the batting cages at the mall, then you’re sleeping at his new apartment.” All three kids turned to stare at their mom. “He has enough room now. He wants you to stay.”
“Yay!” said Fiona. “We’re sleeping at Daddy’s today. Can I bring my princess dress?”
“The apron?” asked Sloan. “Why not.” He checked on April’s fried dough. “See how the edges are turning golden brown? You can flip it over now. Just be careful.”
When the dough was done, Lucas covered it in a thin swirl of honey and Fiona dusted it with an inch of powdered sugar. “Oops, sorry.” She stuck out her bottom lip.
“Looks good to me,” said Sloan, tearing off a piece and popping it in his mouth. “So delicious.”
Everyone tore off a piece and proclaimed it to be the the best fried dough any of them had ever eaten. “I’ll finish this up,” said Sloan. “You guys get cleaned up for your dad.”
Joanne ran her finger through the powdered sugar on the countertop. “It’s amazing how much of a mess they can make in such a short period of time. What do you want to do tonight?”
“I don’t care, as long as we’re naked.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s like you can read my mind.” She kissed him. “You taste like powdered sugar.”
He wagged his eyebrows. “I have some honey in a squeeze bottle we can probably find a use for.”
“Sounds messy.”
He kissed her, pinning her hips against the counter. “Don’t worry, miss, I’m a professional.”
Thank you for reading Holding his Hostage.