Logan shifted closer. His face hovered only inches from hers. She wondered if he might kiss her, then she reminded herself how ridiculous that would be.
He studied her for a moment. “Can I tell them?” Logan asked.
She didn’t love the story of her rock bottom, but this had shifted the conversation away from her dead parents and sad past. If it kept his family from asking more questions, then she figured it wouldn’t hurt.
“I guess,” she exhaled the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Go ahead.”
Logan ran his hand down the length of her hair. It made her feel his touch everywhere. He shifted to face his eagerly waiting family and quickly rehashed how they met in the grocery store.
“I might have accused him of being a serial killer when he offered me the bag,” Brooke heard herself reveal. “I watch a lot of true crime documentaries.” She shrugged.
“I love true crime too,” Amy said. “Paul watches them with me.”
“But I’m not,” Logan said. Then he motioned at the table filled with his family. “Right?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No.” Brooke smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re not. You might be the best thing to ever buy me bread.”
“Ahh.” Amy cupped her hands together. “That might be the sweetest thing I have ever heard.” Then she wagged a finger at them. “You can keep her, Logan. I approve. You two are meant for each other. I mean the woman loves bread.”
Brooke chuckled. “And I love men who buy it for me.”
“My secret weapon.” Logan tightened his arm around her shoulders. It sent a tingling sensation down her spine, making the whole dinner feel real. Like this wasn’t a fake relationship. Like Logan felt the sparks flying between them as their mutual attraction mounted. Like maybe someday she could find someone like him and have it all. “And it worked. I found you.” He held her gaze far longer than normal.
She gulped. Her throat was raw and dry. The line between real and pretend muddled a bit more. For a moment, she forgot about everyone else in the room. Sweat gathered at her temples as her body fully flushed. A fiery glint filled his eyes. How could Logan fake this? Did he feel this mounting attraction too?
Paul cleared his throat, snapping her out of the weird trance she found herself in. Brooke looked away first and forced herself to pick her fork back up. The rest of dinner passed in an easy back and forth with less heat and less confusion.
With the main course and dessert done, Amy pushed her chair back. “We have a rule in our house whoever cooks doesn’t clean up.” She tossed her napkin onto her plate. “So, Brooke, let’s leave the dishes to the men. Then we can go into the family room and visit for a while.”
“Umm, last I checked I made the sauce.” Paul raised an eyebrow. “Since when is this a rule?”
Amy whacked Paul on his arm. “Hush.” Then she waved him off.
“Hey,” Michael chimed in. “And what about me? I helped wash the tomatoes and cut them.”
“But that doesn’t count dear, you only assisted Paul with a little prep work, and Paul,” she narrowed her gaze at him, “I cook almost every night, the least you can do is both tonight.” They exchanged a look with one another.
“I’m happy to help with the dishes.” Brooke gnawed on her bottom lip. The last thing she wanted to do was to be left alone with Amy. “I didn’t do any cooking either. I should be the one to help.”
“Nonsense.” Amy stood and pushed in her chair. “The rule doesn’t apply to guests, but to Logan who needs to learn to do the dishes. Come on. Let’s leave the men to it.” She waved her over.
Logan leaned in. His lip hovered near her ear. “I think you can’t get out of this.” His breath tickled her neck, “And Mom is about to grill you. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Brooke whispered back, “I know, you owe me. And remember this is just until the wedding.”
A look of confusion crossed his face. “What wedding?”
She squeezed his forearm. “The one you have to go with me to as payback. Aubrey and Ian’s, remember?”
“Right, right.” He smiled back at those staring at them. He whispered. “You’re doing great.” He kissed her at the temple. “Only another thirty minutes then we’re in the clear. Can you manage that long?”
His expression was open and sincere. Brooke knew if she said the word, he’d leave right then.
“I can tough it out another half hour.” She squeezed his thigh. “I’m having a nice time.”
“I am too.” Logan pushed back his seat and grasped Brooke’s plate stacking it on top of his own before he stood.
Danielle and Amy made quick work of wiping down the twins and lifting them out of their high chairs. They each carried one of the babies into the attached family room. Baby toys were shoved into every available corner. The sight made Brooke smile, because the space looked lived in and enjoyed.
