I’m not surprised at all.” Tally pulled out a barstool from behind the counter and sat, her boot heels resting on the lowest rung. “I noticed the chemistry between the two of you at the fund-raiser last month.”
Had it been obvious even then? Brea had felt the sparks, but she’d liked to think she’d hidden her reaction. Apparently not.
Felicity leaned over to look at the baked goods. “Was that when it started, at the fund-raiser?”
Brea hmmed, taking a bite to fill her mouth and avoid talking. Too bad no one was around who could help if she shouted gargoyle. “Anyone want a muffin?”
Tally pulled napkins from a counter holder. “Yes, please. Although I do hear you trying to change the subject. I imagine you’re wondering how much you can trust the two of us.”
True, but not the sort of thing Brea expected to hear voiced aloud.
“Although—” Felicity broke a muffin in half, then pinched off a bite “—that’s an unwinnable proposition, since no matter what we say, there’s really no way to prove you can trust us at this point. Trust takes time.”
How long? Brea wished she knew. “Spoken like a counselor.”
“Because I am one.” Felicity swept up a crumb into her hand and then into the sink. “For what it’s worth, Tally and I are both new to the Steele family realm. As such, we weren’t a part of the old days, the old problems and whatever happened then. But we’re here for you now and want to be your friends, as well as family.”
Brea wanted to believe that. “I’m still getting to know everyone again.”
“Give it time.” Felicity squeezed her hand.
Tally scrunched her freckled nose, grinning. “And while you’re giving it time, tell us... Does Ward kiss as incredibly as it seems he would?”
Brea felt the heat steal up to her face. That particular topic was occupying far more of her thoughts than it should. Her cell phone dinged with an incoming text and Brea embraced the excuse to step away from the intense conversation. She wanted—needed—a chance to regain her footing. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to check that.”
She raced to scoop her phone off the coffee table and turned her back on the two women, who seemed content to snack on their muffins. She thumbed the text open to find...
A message from Ward.
Butterflies launched inside her. She shouldn’t feel this excited, but she did. And she couldn’t afford to be distracted by hormones, not when she finally had a real chance at the answers she craved.
Then she read his message, and it was as if the floor fell away beneath her feet.
I’ll be by at seven to pick you up for supper with the Steeles. Be ready to help me make nice with all your family members on the board.
So much for keeping a lock on her emotions. Her body was already on fire at just the thought of seeing him again.
* * *
Ward knew he was pushing it with the impromptu dinner out with the Steeles. But he’d wanted to see Brea, and this was the fastest, easiest way to lock that down. He didn’t want to think overlong about how damn much he looked forward to seeing her. Better to keep it simple. This was a short-term thing between them. He was married to his work.
So he could just enjoy the moment, and yes, this potential for a fling. By the time she figured out he had set up the get-together, it would be too late. She would already be sitting at the table.
Would she be mad?
Almost certainly.
Was she sexy when riled up?
Absolutely.
He’d been surprised by how much he wanted to see her again. How his intentions had shifted so quickly from wanting to keep an eye on her to wanting to follow through on their attraction. Now he saw that his dating idea had no doubt sprung from the heat that flared whenever they were near each other. But if that played out into a fling, he could handle it. His emotions were locked down tight after the number his ex had pulled on him.
He guided his SUV through the night, headlights striping bands of illumination into the snowy air ahead, Brea in the passenger seat, quiet since he’d picked her up. Likely there were other ways to keep watch over her, but this was far more...entertaining.
Snowflakes sprinkled down, glinting in the beams. Brea looked stunning sitting beside him in a royal-blue wool coat and black leather boots. Her hair was draped over one shoulder in an appealing onyx waterfall. She sat so still and regal, he would have thought her unaffected by this evening together if not for the way she picked at her short fingernails.
Low music played from the speakers, his playlist of classical guitar music.
Brea sighed heavily.
He stifled a grin. “You seem angry, my dear.”
“My dear?” She turned in her seat toward him, the dash lights casting her face in seductive shadows. “Are you serious? No one’s watching us.”
“But you are my dear, new girlfriend.” Flicking his eyes from the road, he met her eyes.
“Fake girlfriend. And since no one’s around, let’s make some ground rules.”
“Such as?” He gripped the leather steering wheel as he accelerated. The sound of the exhaust mingled with the few other trucks on the road.
“You could start telling me about these plans of yours—the whole dating thing and going to the family dinner—earlier than a few minutes ahead of time.”
He didn’t bother noting that he’d given her a few hours to prepare. He got her point. “If I had given you too much advance notice, would you have come along?”
“You’ll never know, will you? You didn’t give me the chance to decide.” She crossed her arms, head turning away from him to look out the window at the snow lightly falling from the sky.
“I do know,” he retorted without hesitation. Then felt the need to own up to planning this. His gut served him well in business. He would think of this arrangement with her like business. “If I’d made the reservations for later in the week, you would have come up with excuses.”
“That’s my right.”
“Yes, it is.” SUV idling at a stoplight, he waited, knowing she would come to the obvious conclusion.
“All right, but if I decline, then I don’t get the inside scoop on my family. Fine.” She huffed in exasperation. “So how about from now on, you give me the opportunity to say yes or no and see what happens.”
“Fair enough. I will take that under consideration.”
Mouth twitching into a satisfied smile, he approached the one-story brown cottage, which had been turned into a restaurant, more eager for her approval than he wanted to admit.
The
