Chris stopped her. “You don’t have to do that. I made something for you already.” He darted back to his house and returned with the steaming container held tight between two dish towels. “It’s turkey and spinach lasagna.”
“Bronte, go grab me oven mitts,” Pattie said to her daughter before saying to Chris, “You’re a sweetheart.”
“It wasn’t all me. Bronte helped too. You guys have been so wonderful to me, I wanted to do something for you.”
“I didn’t help,” Bronte said, returning with two giant Mickey Mouse hand oven mitts. “And I’m not sorry about it at all.” She gave him a cheeky smile at their inside joke as she spun around to follow her mother into the kitchen, letting her hand graze his hip with the tiniest of tugs on his belt loop.
“Have a seat.”
The tension between Chris and Bronte cut loose at Steven’s words, and Chris jerked his attention to the recliner Steven pointed to, then sat down.
“You know I really like you, right? I think you fit right in with my family,” Steven said, and Chris swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Remember what I said to you in the hospital?”
“You were happy it was me with Bronte and not Hunter.”
“I love all my children equally, but Bronte is my baby.” Steven pointed toward the kitchen. “She’s smart, funny, and truly the most kindhearted person I’ve ever known. She would never hurt anyone on purpose.”
“I know.”
Steven pointed at himself. “And she takes after me, never one to make a rash decision.” Then he gestured between Chris and the kitchen. “I can see what’s happening between you two. From the moment you walked over to our yard for the picnic and saw her.”
“It’s that obvious?” Chris laughed. He thought he had some chill about Bronte.
“Well, it didn’t seem like you were hiding it.” Steven smiled but quickly sobered up with a flinch when he shifted in his seat. “You need to tell her the truth about who you are before it’s too late.”
Chris nodded, assuring not only Steven but himself as well, because he had no more excuses. He had to tell her, yet that was easier said than done. Once the truth was out, everything would change, and he feared reality would wreck the fantasy life he’d built up with Bronte over the last few weeks.
“I know. I know,” Chris said. “I’m planning on it.”
Bronte strolled back into the room, followed by Pattie, carrying a plate of food and a glass of water on a tray. She placed it all in front of her husband, and he grinned. “Look at this hospitality. You’d think I had open-heart surgery or something.”
Bronte stole a chunk of turkey off her father’s plate, and Chris raised his eyes up in time to see the tip of her tongue slipping out to taste the sauce left on her finger. She’d never know how inadvertently sexy she was. The more he thought about it, the more of his brain cells fried.
Bronte was a potent drug.
When she finally caught his eyes, a gorgeous pink bloomed over her cheeks, and she pressed three delicate fingers to her throat. As if she’d made a decision, she set her shoulders and crossed over to his chair to kiss him. Right in front of her parents.
“I got to go. I have my book club tonight. Chris, call me later,” she said to him then turned to her parents. “Bye, Mom. Daddy, I’ll stop by tomorrow with some sugar-free snacks.”
With a wave, she left, and Chris swiveled his head back to his neighbors, who both grinned from ear to ear.