Page 116 of Cooking Up My Comeback
“Then I’ll be brave enough for both of us until you catch up.” The words come out gruff but certain. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Amber. Even when you drive me crazy. Even when you make decisions without talking to me first. Even when you try to protect me from things I don’t need protecting from.”
Tears start in my eyes, but they’re the good kind. The kind coming from hope instead of fear. “I love you, Brett Walker. Your grumpy morning face and your practical solutions and the way you buy sidewalk chalk without making a big deal about it.”
“You saw the chalk.”
“Tally told me. She also said you’re probably sitting somewhere being grumpy about feelings instead of talking about them.”
“Smart kid.”
“The smartest. So maybe we should talk about feelings.”
Another pause. “I love you too. There. Feelings.”
I’m laughing now, really laughing, because this is so perfectly Brett. Gruff and practical and wonderful. “That’s it? That’s your big feelings talk?”
“Would you prefer a sonnet?”
“I’d prefer you.”
“Good. Because I already bought the cameras.”
“Come home, Brett. Let’s install security cameras and be brave together.”
“On my way.”
When I get home, Brett’s truck sits in my driveway and he’s on the porch with enough security equipment to guard a military installation. He looks up when I park, and something in his expression shifts from wary to hopeful.
“Ready to fight back?” he asks, which is probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.
I walk up those porch steps and kiss him, right there in broad daylight where anyone could see. Where any hypothetical stalker with a camera can take all the pictures they want.
“Ready,” I say against his lips. “But first, can I say something?”
“Shoot.”
“Yesterday I got scared and I ran. But running away from good things because bad things might happen is the dumbest strategy ever invented. And I’m done being dumb about this.”
Brett’s mouth twitches in what might be the beginning of a smile. “You calling yourself dumb?”
“Temporarily dumb. Love-induced temporary dumbness. It’s apparently a real condition.”
“Must be contagious. I spent four hours last night researching security systems instead of just driving over here and demanding you talk to me.”
“Very grumpy-guy way of handling emotions.”
“I’m working on it.”
I cup his face in my hands, looking at this wonderful, stubborn, protective man who buys security cameras at dawn because someone threatened the woman he loves. “Don’t work too hard. I happen to like grumpy guys who show they care by solving problems.”
“Good,” he says, pulling me closer. “Because I’ve got about seventeen more problems to solve before lunch.”
“Such as?”
“Making sure you never feel unsafe in your own home. Making sure whoever’s been following us knowsthey picked the wrong people to mess with. Making sure your kids know I’m not going anywhere.”
“And after lunch?”
“After lunch, we’re going to figure out how to get our restaurant reopened and our reputation restored. Together.”
