Page 38 of Beehives and Broken Heroes

He furrowed his brow. “I told the movers to put everything right back where they’d found it.”

She chuckled. “Well, they clearly didn’t remember where that was. It’s fine, Brandon. The place suits you.”

He grinned and spun her back toward her food. “All right, then, eat up. It’s better when it’s warm.”

“How long was I out, exactly?” She picked up half of her sub.

“Twenty minutes, plus or minus a few minutes.” He took a big bite of his sandwich. “Now, on to more important matters.”

She took a bite of her sandwich and made a most unladylike moan. “Ain’t that the berries!”

He laughed. “You like it, then?”

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, I was trying to impress you,” he said. “But this is the only thing I can make really well, so don’t get your hopes up that I’m a good cook.”

She glanced at him, at the happy little crinkle lines around his eyes and the warmth in his gaze. Had he always been this adorable? How had she missed it?

“So, tell me,” he continued, “you still swearing off men?”

“Most of them,” she said as straight-faced as she possibly could. “There might be one exception.”

“Might be? Ouch,” he countered. “Well, what would that possible exception have to do to get you to go on a date with him?”

“Catching me in a swoon and then making me an amazing sandwich while I’m unconscious was a good start, but . . .” A thought popped into her head, and she smiled outright. “Letting me pick the activity for the date, that’d go a long way, too.”

“She sure demands a lot, folks.” He threw a hand up. “All right, what do you want to do?”

“I want you to teach me to play B.O.T.s.”

Chapter 12

April

“What’s the first rule I taught you?” Brandon asked, circling Allie with his hands behind his back like a drill sergeant. They were out in the woods on his property, practicing escape and evade tactics at Allie’s request. This was the third time they’d done it in as many days, and he had to admit she had some acumen for it.

She whipped out a beanie from her back pocket and waved it in the air. “Cover my ‘flaming red, signal fire’ hair.” She mimicked his deep voice. He’d said that on their first night practicing, and apparently, she remembered it word for word. He chuckled as she shoved the black beanie over her head.

He stopped in front of her and pointed at her shirt. “Red shirts don’t help your cause, either.”

She shrugged. “You win some, you lose some. And it’s coral. I wanted to look nice for our date tonight.”

He grinned. “You look very nice.”

She smiled.

“That’s a good color on you,” he said.

“Thank you.”

She looked delectable. “But this isn’t a date.”

A flash of a challenge shone in her eyes. “I believe it’s our third date, actually.”

He shook his head. Not even close. Their official first date wasn’t going to be in the middle of the woods with her running away from him. Nope. Not happening. “Dates don’t consist of military tactics and training.”

“Says who?”

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