Page 21 of Her Stepbrother Master
He carried a thin paper bag under his arm and he handed it to her. “Here, mouse. I bought you a present.”
“For me? Really?” She snatched the flat package from his hands, tearing into it. “Oh, Brad, thank you!” she exclaimed when she saw the new Debbie Reynolds album. “How did you know I wanted this?”
He grinned. “You’re always singing that “Tammy” song. I figured you might like to play it, too.”
She threw her arms around his neck, forgetting to be sophisticated. “You’re the best.”
He took the album from her and walked to the record player, putting it on.
She watched him, her chest filled with warmth. “I made you...um, us, some dinner,” she said.
“Thank you, mouse.” His easygoing smile made her knees go weak.
“I could make you a drink. I mean, I could have a drink waiting for you when you got home, if I knew what you liked.”
When he gave her a strange look, she knew she’d gone too far. She wasn’t his wife. She was a stepsister whose presence he had to endure for a few weeks, no more. Her face grew warm.
“I’m starved, kiddo. What’s for dinner?”
“Meatloaf and carrots,” she said. “It’s your mom’s recipe.” Okay, now that just underlined the fact that she was family, not a love interest. They shared parents, for God’s sake.
She shoved all her fantasies about Brad Stanford out of her mind and sat down at the worn wooden table to eat. She ran her fingers over one of the scratches in the wood. If he’d let her decorate his place, she’d beg him to buy one of the fancy new Formica tables. She’d seen one she absolutely loved—white with red chairs. So chic.
“Brad?”
“Yes, mouse?”
“Did you pay a visit to Tom McGuire?”
Brad’s expression darkened and he stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Why?” His voice was as hard as steel.
She smiled and dropped her eyes to her plate. “You did that to his nose, didn’t you?”
His shoulders relaxed. “He didn’t speak to you, did he?”
“No, I just saw him driving by.”
“Good.”
She waited, but he said nothing more, and she didn’t press. She had her answer, and she loved it.
They finished the meal and she washed the dishes and put away the leftovers. After wiping the table clean, she spread her books and notes out on it to return to her homework
Brad leaned over her and flipped her text book back to read the cover. “Advanced Algebra, eh? How are the studies going?”
“Boring,” she sighed. “I don’t really see why I’d need to know this to teach in an elementary school.”
“Well that’s true,” he said, sliding in to sit beside her. “How is your grade in this class?”
“B minus.”
“We’ll have to get that one up. I’ve been meaning to go over all your classes with you. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance until now.” He pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and unfolded it. It was the list she’d made of her class times. He scanned it. “How do you like interior design?”
She perked up. “I love it. I have a solid A minus in that class.”
“Good girl.”
His approval shouldn’t mean so much to her, but she loved the interest he took in her and her classes.
