She removed her hand and took a step back.
His mouth flattened with concern.
Concern. She couldn’t continue to bear everyone’s concern much longer. Least of all, his.
“Thanks for bringing bread.” She adjusted her one-shoulderroyal blue top. “You can take it back and hand it to one of my parents.”
“Britt—”
“How about we talk later, when everybody else goes? I think I heard a car outside.” She checked the front drive. “Yep. John and Nora are here.”
Zander hesitated.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” she told him.
He made his way toward the kitchen just as Nora and John bustled indoors. Britt had seen Nora last night but not John, so she gave him a hug, which he returned using the arm that wasn’t holding a dish of peach cobbler.
“It was considerate of you to wait until we were back from our honeymoon before getting yourself kidnapped,” he said.
“I’m nothing if not considerate.”
John smiled, his face ruggedly handsome. “I wish I could have been there to help yesterday, even though my vision’s not what it once was.”
“Shortly after Nora met you, she told me that you could fell dragons. Right, Nora?”
“That’s correct.” Nora hung her rain jacket on the coatrack. “I stand behind my assertion.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you need 20/20 vision to fell dragons, John,” Britt said.
“First of all, I’ve only felled two dragons in my time,” John told Britt. “And they were both kind of small.” He carried the cobbler out of sight.
“There goes my husband.” Nora flourished her hands in the direction he’d gone. “I can’t believe I get to use the termmy husbandnow. It makes me giddy every single time.”
“Great. Then use it like crazy.”
“My husband sent me flowers at work today.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, because he’s an excellent husband. Also, my husband helped me make tonight’s peach cobbler.”
“Fascinating.”
“And tomorrow, my husband’s planning to take me to the movies—”
“You know what, Mrs. Lawson?” Britt interrupted.
“That’s the other thing I can’t get enough of! Mrs. Lawson—”
“I amend my earlier statement. Don’t use the termmy husbandlike crazy.”
The door swung open again, this time admitting Willow and Corbin.
“Since I saw you last, I hear that you managed to mix yourself up with a gang of art thieves,” Corbin said to Britt. He held a tray of appetizers and far more than his portion of charisma.
“Yep.”
“Impressive, even for you.” His auburn hair was shaved short, and scruff darkened his cheeks. His professional football player’s stature always made her feel like the shortest girl in the class.
