To make matters even more mortifying, he signaled for Christian to join him in the entryway. The men exchanged a few words that Hallie couldn’t hear but a look passed between them that made her wish she was the lucky one leaving.
Once Tyler and Will had stepped outside, Christian shut the door, keeping his back to her. She watched his shoulders go up and down as he took a deep breath. Then slowly, he pivoted to face the room.
“I’m sorry my brother is so weird,” she hurried to get out before he said anything. “He was totally out of line. I hope you know I don’t … like you … that way.”
Oh shoot, did she just make things worse? Maybe she should’ve just pretended the whole thing never happened. Not to mention the little fib she just told.
The air sparked with tension when he met her gaze. And it had nothing to do with Isla sitting next to her or Penelope banging around at the play kitchen.
Christian cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.” He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck, scrunching his nose as if he didn’t know what else to say. The look was oddly … hot.
Why did everything he did end up being attractive as all get out, even when he clearly wasn’t meaning to be?
Get a grip, girl.
Perhaps his hotness stemmed from the fact that he was one-hundred-and-fifty percent off-limits. For multiple reasons, not just because her brother said so. And yes, she realized the possibility of getting over a hundred percent didn’t exist in this scenario. But seriously, it had never been this difficult to ignore a connection with a man.
Christian approached the couch, and all she could do was stare. “So, about that cake…” he said.
Right, the cake. She gave her head a little shake. “Of course, that’s why I’m here. The cake.” Because why not make things more awkward by restating his exact words. Beej would eat this story up when they rehashed it later. There weren’t enough facepalm emojis in the world to cover this unfortunate moment.
Isla seemed to be devouring the drawing in her lap when Hallie turned back to her. “What do you think? We can keep any details you want, or scrap the whole thing?—”
She stopped mid-sentence when Christian’s thigh brushed against hers as he sat down beside her. Electricity tripped up her leg at the light touch.
Her head whirled toward him. Their eyes met and his shot wide. As one, they jumped apart.
With Isla on her other side, Hallie didn’t have much space to go. Christian, on the other hand, landed on the opposite side of the couch, leaving at least a foot between them. Lots of nervous fidgeting accompanied the next few long seconds.
“Look, Daddy.” Isla held the sketch up for Christian to see. “I don’t think Grandma could do anything like this.”
He took the paper from her, going to great lengths not to brush his arm against any part of Hallie’s body. “You came up with all this in less than twenty-four hours?” he asked, studying the drawing.
The pencil sketch included a simple outline of a rickety old house set behind a field of tombstones with a few bones poking out of the dirt. Some ghosts danced around the outer walls of the structure, and a twisted tree with a broomstick stuck in its leafless branches tied the whole thing together.
“I can’t take all the credit.” Directing her comments to Isla felt much safer to Hallie than having to look at Christian’s face. That attractive man beside her had taken a sledgehammer to her self-control. “My sister helped me come up with it. She’s the real artistic genius in the family.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Hallie wasn’t sure if Christian had intended to say the words out loud, or if they were meant to be mumbled under his breath. Either way, she heard them, and her face flushed at the compliment.
“No really,” she said, turning to him. Bad idea. He studied her with the same intensity that his daughter had studied the sketch. Except his brown eyes appeared way broodier, and did she detect some longing in them?
Excuse me? Earth to Hallie. Christian isn’t pining for you.
That would be ridiculous. Tyler’s departing warning must be putting ideas into her head that didn’t belong.
“Elise studies art,” Hallie explained. “Many of my abilities came from her teaching me different techniques. It’s really helped with my baking.”
Isla reached over to snatch the paper back from her father. “Can you put a witch flying over the house? Right here?” She pointed to the empty space above the dilapidated chimney on the weathered house.
Man, Christian hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned his daughter’s love for Halloween.
Hallie rotated the page toward herself, pursing her lips as she considered the idea. Since starting Hallie’s Cakes, she’d stretched herself past what she thought she could do many times. Those instances had helped her grow as a baker and taught her not to back down from any challenge. Attempting to create something suspended in the air would be a first though.
But looking at Isla’s hopeful face made up her mind. If the girl wanted a flying witch, Hallie would make it happen, one way or another.
“I can try.” She dug through her bag until she found a pencil.
