Chapter 281
Kingsley took them to an upscale restaurant, specifically ordering a spread tailored entirely to Seven’s tastes.
Seven’s little mouth ran a mile a minute. Kingsley knew damn well the boy hadn’t inherited that chatterbox trait from him-that was all Lucy.
They were halfway through their meal when Peter arrived. Spotting Seven sitting obediently in his chair, he immediately offered a bright greeting. “Hello, sweet boy!” Seven glanced up, his mouth full as he mumbled, “Hello!”
Kingsley shot him a look. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw your car and figured you’d be here.” Peter studied the little boy, who was openly assessing him right back. “How is your mom?”
“Mommy is at work. She has to make money to put food on the table.”
It was something Lucy told him all the time, so the response came as second nature.
The men couldn’t help but chuckle at his earnestness.
Peter clapped Kingsley on the shoulder. “Looks like this is your chance, man.”
Kingsley scooped some more vegetables onto Seven’s plate. “Thank you!” the boy chirped.
Peter leaned in, testing the waters. “Does your mommy know you’re out?”
Seven nodded emphatically. “Mommy knows. I told her.”
As Seven happily chewed on his food, the nanny pulled out a napkin and handed it to him.
He wiped his mouth, then inspected his fingers. “My hands are dirty. I need to wash them!”
Kingsley stood up immediately. “I’ll take you.”
He lifted the boy out of the high chair, but Seven wriggled in his grip. “I can walk by myself!”
The tall man and the tiny boy walked side-by-side. Seven’s little head swiveled constantly, his wide eyes taking in every detail of the restaurant.
Once they reached the restroom, the little guy looked up at Kingsley with absolute entitlement. “I can’t reach. You have to pick me up.”
Kingsley bent down and scooped him up. The moment he turned on the faucet, the tiny dictator in his arms started grumbling you have, foroll up my sleeves, otherwise my shirt will get wet.”
Kingsley clumsily pushed the sleeves up the boy’s arms. “Is this okay?”
Seven glanced down, his little brows knitting together in dissatisfaction. “Higher,
Uncle Kingsley. You really don’t know how to take care of people at all.”
“I can learn. Kingsley set him down on the floor, properly folded the sleeves past the boy’s elbows to ensure they wouldn’t get splashed, and then picked him back up.
you need my help
Seven shook his head, looking like a miniature adult. “I know how to wash my own hands.”
He pressed his small hands hard
against the soap dispenser,
pumping a dollop into his palm. He rubbed his hands together with practiced efficiency, then rinsed them spotless under the running water.
“All done!”
Kingsley inspected the work. Satisfied that the boy’s hands were clean, he grabbed
a paper towel and patiently dried them off.
Seven stood firmly in place, tugging at his pant leg. “I need to go potty.”
Kingsley’s voice was gentle. “Go ahead. I’ll wait right here.”
The little boy looked up at him with bright, expectant eyes, leaning on him entirely.
“You can’t leave. You have to help me with my pants.”
“Alright, go on,” Kingsley agreed, his tone softening even more.
Barely two minutes later, Seven’s voice echoed from the stall. “Uncle Kingsley!”
Kingsley stepped inside, bent down to help adjust the boy’s clothes, and smoothly scooped him into his arms. “Are we ready to head home?”
“I need to wash my hands again,” Seven demanded, wrapping his arms around Kingsley’s neck.