“She does exist,” he teased. He shot Danielle an unreadable look. “I knew Logan wouldn’t make her up.” He turned off one of the burners. “I’m Michael by the way. Danielle’s husband.” Michael flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder.
Brooke smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You guys,” Logan came up next to Brooke and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed them, “make it sound like it’s a miracle anyone would date me.”
“It is a marvel,” Michael teased. “I mean look at him.”
Brooke grinned. “I know, right?” She cupped his cheek with one hand. “I have to look at his face all the time, poor me.” She made a pouty face.
“Hey,” Logan smiled against her hand. His cheek shifted under her palm. The scratchy surface of his stubble rubbed her skin. “I haven’t heard any complaints until now.” He winked.
With a smirk, Brooke lightly patted his cheek before she dropped it.
Danielle deposited Lily into one of the high chairs while Paul strapped Amelia into the other one. Amy snatched a canister of kid puffs cereal out of the cupboard and peeled back the lid. She walked over and dumped a pile on each tray in front of the girls. Their little chubby hands hungrily clutched them and shoved some into their mouths.
“Even you can admit you never bring women over.” Danielle scuttled around the high chairs and moved across the kitchen to where Paul stood. She removed a lid to one of the tall pots. “At least not since Shelby.” She placed the lid back on the pot and peered over her shoulder. “So, Brooke, you can’t blame us for being a bit excited.”
Brooke replied with a crooked smile, “I understand. Thanks again for the invitation.”
The mention of the woman who broke Logan’s heart made her stomach twist.
“I’m glad you’re here too.” Logan nuzzled her neck. The feeling of him intimately close startled her at first, she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. He dipped his head near her ear, close enough his breath tickled her neck. “I’m trying to sell this thing. Work with me,” he whispered sending a zing through her.
How was he this good at pretending?
This is fake. This is fake. This is fake.
But part of her wished it was real. And the thought terrified her.
Amy puttered around the kitchen then opened the oven and pulled out a beautiful loaf of sourdough bread. Then she set it on the empty burner next to the large pot.
“My, that smells delicious,” Brooke commented as her stomach rumbled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “I do have a thing for bread.” She smirked at Logan, and his lips twitched mischievously like they shared an inside joke.
Everyone laughed, but she joined in too.
“I hope you like it. Logan didn’t give us a heads up on any food allergies.” Amy rubbed her hands together. “Do you have any?” Then she twisted her fingers into a knot. “I should’ve asked to double check.”
“No food allergies.”
The tight lines of Amy’s forehead loosened. “That’s a relief.”
“I’m not a picky eater either,” Brooke quickly added.
“Great.” Amy directed Paul to carry the pot to the table. “Paul here made his famous Bolognese sauce. His mom was Italian.”
“But my dad was Irish.” Paul lifted the large pot with two pot holders and carried it to the table. “That’s why these twins here have their strawberry blonde hair.” He set the pot in the middle of the table on top of a pad.
Logan still had his arm around her shoulders. Warmth tickled down her spine, and Brooke leaned a bit of her weight against his firm chest, allowing herself to pretend for minute he really wanted to have his arm around her.
Amy sliced the bread and placed it on a wood platter. “Where is your family from, Brooke?”
“Yeah,” Danielle piped up. “Did you grow up in Chicago?” She tossed some more puffs onto one of the twins high chair tray.
Brooke stilled. “No, I’m not from here.” Logan squeezed her shoulders ever so slightly.
Her heartrate sped up. Flushed, she paused as she tried to figure out the best way to respond. She did not want to talk about her messed up family, drug addict and alcoholic mother or the dad who abandoned her before she ever really knew him. Logan’s family obviously lived in another universe where people were kind and stable.
“She’s from Virginia, a small town.” Logan kissed her gently at the temple. Her skin sang from the touch of his lips. Part of her knew the feeling would last past the evening, while Logan wouldn’t think about it another second. “And enough with the cross examination, you’re making Brooke nervous.” He dropped his arm. “Where do you want us to sit?” He peered over at Paul.
