Page 33 of To Steal a Heart

He just grinned. A couple of seconds later, he pumped his eyebrows as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his shorts and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “You ready to do some biking?”

“I am.”

He scooted out a barstool and sat down at the island. She went to the fridge and began pulling out sandwich items. She placed them on the island and then went to the cupboard to retrieve plates.

“Would you like some help?”

Her eyebrows slid up. “Wow. Captain America is stepping up his game. I’m not sure what to think about that.” She reached in a nearby drawer and pulled out a butter knife.

A sideways grin washed over his face. “Does the author always speak in the third person?”

Her hand went to her hip as she adopted a sassy tone, emphasizing her Southern twang. “This author has the liberty of speaking in whatever person she chooses.”

Mirth lit his eyes. “Touché.” A second later, he threw her a speculative look. “So, has the author decided yet what our story will be? Do we get our happy ending?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Slow down, speed racer. We’re only at the beginning. You’re nowhere near close to proving yourself.”

His gaze moved over her in a slow, leisurely way that caused her heart to beat faster. “I thought that kiss was pretty good.”

“It was,” she said lightly. “But kissing will only take a guy so far.”

His face fell as he adopted such a stricken expression that it caused her to giggle. Crew was good at hamming it up. “Ouch.” He clutched his chest and made a show of falling off the chair where he lay sprawled out. “You’re brutal.”

She wagged the knife at him and chirped in a buttery sweet tone, “After you’re done with the heart attack, will you be a dear and get some glasses out?”

He laughed easily as he leapt up from the floor with the ease of a panther. Wow, he was agile. His voice went silky soft as he caressed her with his beautiful eyes. “Slugger, for you, I’ll go to the end of the earth and back.”

She went warm and tingly all over. “Mm hmm.” Arden couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy. After the sandwiches were made, they sat down at the table to eat. Crew was about to dig in until she stopped him. “No blessing on the food?”

Color stained his cheeks, and he looked genuinely ruffled. “Um, I guess we could pray.”

She eyed him. “Crew Bronson, are you not a praying man?”

He blinked several times, his expression sincere. “I guess I could do a little better in that regard. Hank and Chloe are both religious.” Something flashed in his eyes. She tried to pinpoint what she was seeing—regret? Frustration?

“A person can never go wrong by showing gratitude to our Heavenly Father.”

“I take it you’re religious?”

“I’m a firm believer in prayer. In fact, I don’t write a single word without praying first.”

He nodded, taking in her words.

Before he assumed she was a saint, she needed to disclose the rest. “As for attending church on a regular basis. Well, I could do a little better in that regard.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, much better, if I’m being honest.”

He reached for her hand. “Arden Croft, you are something.” He pressed his lips together and seemed to get lost in thought.

“What is it?” she prodded gently.

“There was a time when I resented Hank for turning to religion.”

She was surprised by this, and it must’ve shown on her face because he gave her a strained smile. “Does that make me an awful person?”

“No, it makes you human.” She both appreciated and admired Crew for opening up to her. “You’re less than perfect. Join the club.”

He gave her a partial smile for her effort in trying to make him feel better about himself. “I think I felt like Hank was pulling away from me.” He paused. “But now I realize that he was trying to become a better person. I see the marked difference in his life since he turned to God. He has a peace about him that he never had before. He’s content with his life.”

Arden got the feeling that Crew was only sharing part of the story. She was tempted to press him for more information, but maybe it was better to let him tell her about his past in his own time and way. After all, she could hardly blame Crew for not telling her every last detail about his past when she wasn’t being truthful about the most basic thing—her identity.

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