She handed the plate over to Lincoln. “Linc, this is?—”

“The man, the myth, the legend. You’re Brexten Cabella, Aiden Porter’s top operative and all around stud.” Lincoln grinned. “Clara couldn’t keep her jaw from flapping about you.”

“Ah,” Clara protested, even though it was true. She’d gushed about details from this morning and Lincoln had dug for more.

Lincoln shoved the platter and the spatula at Clara. “Please get the chicken off for me, sis. Pretty please. I need to shake Brexten’s hand like a man.”

Clara smiled. She didn’t mind. She lifted the chicken off the grill and shut it off while Lincoln shook Brex’s hand and gushed. He kept repeating he couldn’t wrap his mind around Brex really and truly working for the Aiden Porter.

They sat down to eat and after the prayer, Lincoln waited while Brex and Clara took what they wanted to eat. After asking several times if they’d indeed gotten all they wanted, he dumped the rest of the grilled chicken, cheesy bacon potatoes, and four slices of homemade bread onto his plate. He didn’t waste space for the salad.

Then he grilled Brex with questions while Brex and Clara ate and Lincoln consumed his food. Brex was patient and funny with Lincoln. Sometimes he couldn’t answer a question, explaining it was information that he couldn’t reveal. Lincoln loved that ‘super-spy guy’ answer and also loved anything Brex could reveal.

When Lincoln had devoured everything on the table but the salad, he announced, “It was delectable, sis, mostly thanks to my superior grilling skills. I’ll clean up quick, then I’ve got to jet. The boys are meeting at the park to pickle the ball, and I’ve got to smash them.” He made a motion like he was holding a paddle and slamming it into a ball, then turned to Brex. “Thank you so much for coming to dinner and answering most of my questions, Brex. You’re the best. I want to have your rizz someday, and I’m stoked you’re dating my sis!”

He grinned, leaped to his feet, and started hauling serving dishes into the kitchen before Clara could correct that they weren’t dating.

Brex turned to her with a lifted eyebrow. “Will he really clean up before he goes to meet his friends?”

“Oh, for sure. He’s always happy to clean up because he likes to eat so much and if he leaves a mess, we all threaten not to cook or grocery shop for him.”

Brex chuckled at that. “He is the friendliest and most impressive sixteen-year-old I’ve ever met.”

“He’s ‘the best’ like he always says.” She nodded. “We all worry we’re going to spoil him as the youngest and him being so ‘well loved’ as my mom likes to say. But in my personal opinion, he’s as generous and fun as any teenager around.”

“I can agree with that.”

He grinned at her, and she decided she really, really liked him. He shook his wrist and glanced at his watch.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” she asked him.

“Oh, no.” He glanced at his watch, then back at her. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Nervous habit? Like I make you nervous?”

He grinned at that. “Maybe.”

Of course he was teasing. He was too poised and accomplished to be nervous around her.

Lincoln rushed back out onto the patio, grabbing the rest of the serving dishes and announcing, “Did you want any of those cookies you made, Clara, or should I just take them all to the boys?”

“Linc. Don’t you dare steal all of those cookies!” She sprang to her feet and pushed around her little brother, who was twice her weight and half a foot taller than her.

“I wouldn’t steal all of them. Just a plate or two.” He looked as if she’d wounded him.

“Yeah, right. I know how you think.” Clara laughed and gathered up the paper plates and cups from the table to throw in the garbage.

Brex helped her and Lincoln and before long, everything was cleaned up or put away.

“I thought those cookies were for me,” Brex said, pointing to the trays of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the linoleum counter top.

Clara loved her parents’ spacious, comfortable, and clean, though outdated home. What did Brex think of it? Was he used to ultra-modern and fancy living spaces? Views of the ocean and all stainless steel and glass?

“They are,” Clara said, giving Lincoln a warning look.

“Ah, no way. Bad plan, my man,” Lincoln said. “You’re all built and buff. I don’t think you want that much sugar racing through your body. As a teenager, I can metabolize sugar and not have it affect my studliness.” He flexed. “But though you’re a legend, you’re kind of an old man, like what are you, almost thirty? You could damage your perfect physique with more than a few cookies.”

“I’m thirty-four, and I’ll take my chances.” Brex chuckled and winked at Clara.