Page 142 of Rush

“If you want to ditch me to go hang out with them, that’s totally fine.”

“You firing me already? Please, Miss Montgomery, I can do better,” he pleads mockingly. “I’m not ditching you, El. Would you want to come with? We can go after lunch?”

I glance up at him. His eyes—green and bright, filled with quiet hope—leaving me no choice but to agree.How can I resist a face like that?

“Didn’t you say his wife just had a baby?”

“Yeah, she’s a few weeks old now.”

“Maybe we should get them something to eat? New parents and all—I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

His face lights up. For a moment, he just looks at me, unreadable, and then?—

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “that’s very thoughtful of you.”

Before I can react, his hand cups my face. Time slows down, my pulse pounding against my ribs. He might kiss me. And God help me, I might let him.

A car horn blares, snapping me back to reality. We’re standing on a crowded sidewalk in broad daylight. Just what I need—Elena Montgomery caught canoodling with her bodyguard mid-tour. I can practically hear Kylie’s eyes rolling from here.

I clear my throat and step back. Broderick clears his too, as though he’s only just come back to reality.

We order a few Chicago-style pizzas to go, along with some cheesecakes, before Chris brings the car around to take us to Broderick’s brother’s place. During the twenty-minute drive, his hand rests lightly on my thigh. He geeks out over the Wright houses we pass, and there’s something so endearing about it.He’s such a nerd.

We pull up to a modest two-story brick bungalow. The street is lined with trees, the faint autumn breeze carrying the scent of the pizzas Broderick balances in his arms.

“So, Charlotte is his wife—she’s a nurse. And I think their baby is...Mia.”

I nod, making a mental note of his family members. It feels as though a rock lodges in my throat. Meeting Broderick’s family doesn’t feel casual.

I shake the thought off, square my shoulders, and follow him up the three steps to the front door.

Broderick doesn’t even knock before the door swings open to reveal a man just as tall as him, though not as broad, with dark chocolate hair and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. They hug, complete with back thumps and grunts.

“Come inside—Charlotte’s just feeding Mia.”

“Eli, this is Elena. Phil’s little sister,” Broderick says by way of introduction.

He steps aside to let us in. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I say as I toe off my shoes.

“Hey, no need to do that,” Elijah says.

“But my shoes are dirty—they’ve been outside,” I reply, embarrassment forcing heat to creep up my face.

Broderick chuckles, handing the pizza boxes to his brother and resting a hand on the small of my back. “Eli, it’s a cultural thing. Elena’s Filipino. They don’t wear shoes inside the house.” He toes his boots off too.

Warmth flares in my chest at his easy explanation and willingness to participate.

“Ah, yes—you mentioned Phil was, well…Filipino,” Elijah laughs at his own lame joke, and I can’t help but snigger.

“My brother, the comedian,” Broderick deadpans.

“Brody, is that you?” a woman’s voice calls out—I assume it’s Charlotte.

We head into the living room, which has been converted into a makeshift nursery. Charlotte sits in a rocker, a cloth draped over her shoulder. She’s honey-haired and beautiful, despite the exhaustion painted across her features. Baby gear is scattered everywhere. Elijah clears the coffee table before setting the food down, then disappears and returns with plates and napkins.

“Can I get you guys something to drink?”