Page 18 of Tied Up In Tinsel
But the moment I stepped into the house—greeted by the scent of something savory, the sight of a very attractive man in my kitchen, and my daughter’s smile stretching from ear to ear—it all melted away.
We sat together at the table, just the three of us, forks clinking against plates as we dug into the meal Brooks had made. He’d claimed this morning he loved to cook, but he hadn’t warned me he wasthisgood. The chicken—smothered in a rich, red sauce that was equal parts tangy and comforting—had Ruby so enchanted she was now holding the plate to her face, licking it clean.
“Ruby!” I scolded, though the corners of my mouth betrayed me with a twitch. “Stop that.”
She lowered the plate slowly, grinning wide, her chin, cheeks, and hands all wearing that same deep red sauce like war paint. Her shirt didn’t fare much better.
Bath time was definitely happening tonight.
“Good, huh, kiddo?” Brooks asked, his tone warm as he speared another bite.
“Delicious! Mommy doesn’t cook like this.”
I froze mid-bite, my jaw dropping in mock outrage. “Excuse me? You monster.”
Her giggle was immediate, but she bit her lip in an attempt to look innocent.
I stood.
“Oh, you’d better take that back,” I warned, inching toward her with exaggerated slowness.
She shook her head no, her laughter bubbling just beneath the surface until I pounced, hands going to her sides in a full-blown tickle attack. Ruby shrieked with delight, wiggling in her chair, trying to escape.
I kissed her round cheek with an obnoxiously loud smooch before confiscating her plate. “Guess Brooks will just have to cook every night,” I said, shooting him a playful wink over my shoulder.
“Deal,” he replied smoothly, his smile curling with something that made my stomach flip. “That’s not a punishment for me.”
It took every bit of restraint not to blurt the thought in my head—something about himpunishing me.
The image of him shirtless from this morning, golden skin stretched over those muscles, had already made concentrating nearly impossible. And now? With this home-cooked meal sealing the deal? Having him here felt far more dangerous than I’d anticipated.
He’d been here a day and yet things felt like they’d been happening for months. He felt like the missing piece to our little puzzle.
“I need to put on a fashion show for you!” Ruby announced, hopping down from her chair.
“Wait!” I called after her, holding up a finger. “Hands and face first, missy.”
Ruby rolled her eyes but obeyed, snatching the damp paper towel I held out and scrubbing her mouth and hands with all the dramatics of a Broadway star before tossing it into the trash.
“But you need to sit down,” she ordered before darting down the hallway.
I sank back into my chair beside Brooks with a sigh.
“It’s a pretty lengthy show,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth, leaning closer until his breath brushed my cheek. “We spent most of the day at that boutique she loves.”
I turned my head, finding his eyes inches from mine. “The Jolly Closet?”
He smirked. “Is that what it’s called? Then yes.”
“But… how did she buy things from The Jolly Closet? I didn’t give her any money.”
Before he could answer, Ruby reappeared, head high, hips swaying in perfect little-girl confidence. She marched past us, spun at the end of the hall, and grinned wide enough to light the room.
“Whoa! Look at that sparkly tutu!” I cheered.
“Do another spin,” Brooks encouraged.
“Yellow’s my new favorite color, Mom!” she declared mid-twirl.
