The Playboy's Office Romance. Karen Toller Whittenburg

always underestimated me, Sweetcheeks.”

      “Don’t ever call me that again!”

      “Aunt Lara?”

      She whirled to see Calvin standing hesitantly in the hallway, shifting his slight weight uneasily from foot to foot. “Calvin,” she said, apology in her voice, regret that he’d heard her speaking so sharply to Bryce, to anyone.

      “Are you mad?” he asked.

      Lara was conscious of the tremor in his voice, the insecurity in the way his arms were tucked across his chest. He’d heard too many mad voices in his short life already. “No, Sweetie,” she said soothing him with a smile. “We were just talking about, uh, hurt feelings.”

      Calvin considered the matter, then his smile beamed out, including them both. “If a feeling’s hurt, you should kiss it and make it all better.”

      “Now there’s a good idea,” Bryce agreed, his smile returning as if the tension of a moment ago had never been. “In my experience, kissing makes everything better.”

      Calvin nodded. “Kiss him, Aunt Lara, and then you and him come and watch me spin.”

      Bryce’s eyes were alight with mischief when her gaze nailed him.

      “Don’t even think about it,” she warned beneath a falsely bright smile.

      His answering smile was almost irresistible. “I was only thinking,” he said as if it were true, “that kids say the darndest things.”