Chapter 6 #3
“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.
Gosh, Logan saved her. It made her like him even more.
Paul directed them to sit next to each other while Danielle and Michael sat across from them with a twin on each side of them. Amy placed the bread and salad down next to the pot of pasta. Then Amy and Paul took the seats at the heads of the table.
They passed the food around in a circle, family style. Danielle broke the bread and pasta into small pieces and placed it on the twins’ trays. Brooke ate bits of her pasta.
“Brooke,” Danielle said as she buttered her slice of bread. “I know you’re a pediatrician, but please don’t judge me when I let my girls have a little bit of the chocolate cake.”
Brooke speared another pasta noodle. “I won’t.
” She ate a bite of pasta. Then she wiped her face with her napkin.
“I’ve seen the whole gamut of parenting in my line of work.
I think there’s nothing wrong with giving them a bite of cake.
I can already tell you and Michael are great parents.
” Then she set her napkin back down on her lap and squeezed Logan’s thigh.
“And I can see why Logan is such a fantastic person. He had wonderful parents who supported him too.” She tilted her chin toward Logan and caught his gaze and smiled.
Logan returned her smile then brushed her hair over one shoulder and kissed her right there on the tip of it. It was sweet and endearing and seemed much too real. The guy could act, because when she twisted back to face those at the table, Amy beamed back.
“We do have great parents,” Danielle commented.
“The best,” Logan added.
And although Brooke had thought that Amy’s smile couldn’t get any bigger, it did.
Paul cleared his throat. “Thank you. But I’m sure you have great parents too.”
Brooke stared down at her plate and forced herself to start on her salad. Her lips pursed together as her shaky hand speared some lettuce. Heat smeared her cheeks. She shoved the salad into her mouth to keep from responding.
These situations never became easier. How much do you reveal about your past without making others look at you with pity? She chewed and wondered how to respond.
“Umm—” Brooke attempted to explain.
“Brooke’s parents are—” Logan jumped in.
Brooke cut him off and said, “My parents are no longer living. And I don’t really like talking about it.”
Amy placed a hand on her forearm. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How terrible for you. I hope you at least have a sibling—” Her voice trailed off.
“No.” Brooke ate another bite of her salad. “I was an only child.”
“Wow, that’s rough,” Paul added as he set his water glass down. “How tragic.”
“Yep.” Brooke darted her gaze to her plate and shoveled another bite of salad into her mouth.
Logan piped up, “Have I told you yet how I met Brooke?” He peered over at her with a glint in his eyes. The attention made her stomach flip on itself.
There he went again, saving her like they were coconspirators.
“You said you met at the hospital,” Danielle said with a look of confusion. “Did you lie about that?”
The twins squealed with delight as they made a mess of the pasta. Danielle swiped up some pasta the girls had tossed onto the floor though it was fruitless. Sauce smeared across their faces as they fisted food into their mouths.
“No, we did run into each other at the hospital,” Logan added. “But we originally met at the grocery store.”
Her lips twitched as she fought a smile. Logan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He smirked.
“Please don’t tell them about the bread,” Brooke only half pleaded, and half teased. “I’m trying to make a good impression here.”
“What bread?” Amy inquired.
He ran a finger down the length of her nose. “Not just any bread. French bread,” Logan said.
“They’ll never look at me the same after this.” Brooke shook her head and grimaced. “I can’t believe you’re telling them this.”
“Ooh,” Danielle leaned forward and rested her elbow on the table to cradle her chin. “You have to spill now. We want details.”
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.”