Page 42 of Bronco

I’m not surprised when the first person I see is Crystal, running around after Ade who has swiped two cupcakes off the nearby table and is running away laughing. He’s a handful, and I can’t help but giggle a little. Olive does too, turning to look at me when I see Bronco heading out with two large platters of sandwiches covered with saran wrap. He falters when he spots me, his eyes shifting to Olive as he grins. He places the trays down in the center of the outdoor tables before heading toward us.

“You remember the friend I told you about?” I start, hoping Olive remembers. “My friend, who's a boy?”

“Yep, Bronco, right?” She’s a smart kid and always listens.

“Right, well, he’s headed this way.”

He’s larger than life, his hair slicked back a little off his face and he’s trimmed his beard. Man oh man, I should not be noticing that, or the way his eyes light up at the very sight of us. My throat thickens; I don’t know what all that’s about, but I try to keep myself calm.

And there he is, standing in front of us. I don’t know what I expected from their first meeting, but Bronco’s grinning his head off. He’s also wearing an Elsa apron that someone,probably Ade, tied over his head. It sits snug against his body and is far too small for him, but he wears it with pride.

“Hello, Amber.” As he smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkles, and in this light I notice the darkening ochre of his orbs and wonder if a biker should be this pretty. Handsome doesn’t even cut it. His eyes dip to Olive. “And you must be Olive? I’m Bronco.”

My niece, ever the perfect child, holds out her little hand to shake his. “Pleased to meet you,” she says as I roll my lips.

Bronco’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Great to meet you also. Your aunt has told me so much about you,” he says, which is true, but I’ve still left out a lot.

Olive casts her gaze to me for a fraction of a second, then says, “She talks a lot about you, too.”

Bronco’s eyebrows nearly shoot off the top of his head as he smirks. “Really? What did she say?”

I give him warning eyes, but he chooses to ignore it.

Olive shrugs. “You ride a loud motorcycle and you have a big dog called Titan.”

He grins even wider. “I do. Sadly my dog chose to stay home and sleep off the donuts I fed him for breakfast instead of coming to party with us. He’s also a little nuts around people he doesn’t know.”

Olive giggles. “You can’t feed a dog donuts!”

“Did I say donuts? What I meant to say was;dog food, my bad.”

She giggles again. “Aunty Amber says you’re kind,” she blurts out of nowhere. “And she wasn’t sure which outfit to wear to the game tomorr?—”

I put my hand over her mouth jestingly. “I think that’s enough story time,” I tell her pointedly.

“Oh, no, I think we should let Olive keep talking, I like story time.”

I shoot him another death glare and he laughs harder. “I think we should go find your friends,” I offer instead.

“What did she pick out to wear?” Bronco asks, and I want to die right there on the spot. Now he thinks this is a date, and it most definitely isn’t one.

Of course, my niece answers dutifully since she was in charge of assessing the options. “Jeans, a Pelicans t-shirt, hoodie and her chucks,” Olive says proudly. I mean, it’s game night. What am I supposed to wear?

Bronco gives me a smile that tells me he’s enjoying this a little too much. “I’m wearing something similar myself.”

Olive laughs again before something distracts her gaze. “Ooh, I see Ella!” she says, excitedly.

Bronco sweeps an arm out, moving so we can pass. “Well, have fun, Olive. Great meetin’ you.”

She gives him a wave and tugs my hand as I begin to move.

He’s grinning because he thinks he has the upper hand now.

“Don’t be so smug,” I mutter.

“Kind, huh? I bet that’s not all you said.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we,Elsa?”

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