Page 79 of Broken Daddy

“I should clean up,” Gen whispers after a few minutes. “And dinner…”

She turns and gives me a shy smile, looking up through thick lashes.

“Sorry if that was…”

“Abrupt?” I ask, shooting her a grin. “Took me by surprise. But I don’t regret it.”

Normally, I’m not so forward. I need to see it, though. See her reaction.

And to my relief,shelooks relieved. A blush colors the high point of her cheeks as she shimmies the baggy jeans back on and buttons them.

“Come on.” She tips her head to the side, then takes my hand.

We walk out of the room like that. Fingertips brushing. Palms warm, connected.

I’m absolutely starving.

Chapter31

Genevieve

Chris casually walks into the kitchen and gives me an amused look.

“What?” I ask, irritated.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

I give him a flat look. “Unless you can sear scallops, I think I’m good. But thanks.” The words come out sassy, which only prompts a wider grin from him.

Nate will be here soon. I managed to escape earlier this evening by promising that I was going straight to Sienna’s, not stopping anywhere on the way. Instead, I did the opposite and drove to the residential area of the city—to Chris’s town house.

It’s a brick monstrosity. Tall, narrow, overly decorative in a luxurious way. Actually…I kind of like it. But there’s no way Chris waters all the plants in here. It has the feel of a bachelor pad well cared for by a small team of people.

The kitchen on the second of three floors is stunning. All bronze and black with custom tiling. Cooking has been a hazard with how distracted I am, and I suck at a small burn on the outside of my palm as I ready another pan.

It’s a simple meal, which means I need to get it perfect. Scallops with steak as an alternative—I know Eva won’t eat seafood—a pomegranate and spinach salad with balsamic vinaigrette, a simple linguine, brown butter polenta, and baked zucchini rolled into rosettes.

Two different wines and a dessert of panna cotta.

Hands on my hips, I look over the dishes as they stay warm and covered, waiting for the finishing touches. I don’t want to start the scallops until everyone is here and settled in.

And we’re only waiting on Nate and Eva.

According to Chris, Nate is under the impression they’re coming over for pizza. The premise of a casual dinner shouldn’t be a problem, since when I briefly met Jenson and Mel, they were both wearing jeans.

It seems like the other side of the Sharpe family inherited the same habit of understated luxury. Comfort over drama; quality over appearance.

There’s a knock on the door and I jump, straightening the black shin-length skirt I’m wearing. It’s something I’ve worn before to professional functions, but it doesn’t quite fit around the waist anymore. A flush of anxiety warms my cheeks as I realize that soon, this pregnancy will be very visible—whether I want it to be or not.

A list of worries plays on a reel through my head.

How will I tell Russ? How will we tell Eva?

If Saucer takes me on, when do I let them know?

I need to have another talk with Nathan about Germany. Make him understand.

Pushing the worries from my head, I tentatively walk out into the main area. It includes the landing to the staircase that leads right to the front door, a large living space with an insanely huge fireplace, and the dining area. I’m guessing that somewhere on the top floor is the main master suite and maybe an office.

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