Page 43 of Blue Line

I take two steps closer and open my mouth. She blinks a few times before extending the cookie toward me. I take all of it at once, my tongue flicking against her fingers, before I pull back and chew it.

“Way to be a barbarian.” Hadley wipes her hand on her apron.

I probably shouldn’t have done that—licked her fingers—but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see her reaction.

“Pretty good, but I need another one to make sure.” I reach around her and grab one off the cookie sheet and plop it into my mouth.

“You’re going to ruin your appetite.”

“I’m a growing boy.” I rub my stomach. “I need all the calories I can get.”

She snorts. “You’re something, that’s for sure.”

“What are you trying to butter me up for, Hadley Jane?”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Why would you think that?”

“You made me cookies.”

“I did no such thing. I was bored. They’re for me too.”

“Sure.”

She shakes her head. “Where are you taking me on our date?”

Tonight’s the night of our date, the one that one of the guys from the Storm’s social media team is going to be at. He’s going to meet us at Mitchell’s, the steak house I’m taking Hadley to. Sutton reassured me that he’ll take a few pictures and some quick videos before dinner starts, then leave. That it will be as quick and painless as possible.

“I’m not telling you. It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, please, Weston Kevin.” She puts her hands together, pretending to beg, and bats her eyelashes at me.

I snort a laugh. “Not my middle name, Hadley Jane. And no, it’s a surprise.”

“Ugh, fine.” She stomps her foot.

“Go get ready so we’re not late.”

“How will I know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?”

“Wear something similar to what you wore for Harry’s engagement party.” Or wear that same dress. Fucking hell, was she hot as hell in it. “But that’s the only hint you’re getting.”

“Fine. Fine,” she huffs before heading toward her room.

I’m left standing in the kitchen with a baking sheet of fresh cookies. The absolute last thing anyone should do is leave me alone with any sort of sweets. They’re my weakness.

A quick peek over my shoulder tells me she is indeed gone, so I grab another cookie. One can never have enough cookies, especially when they’re warm from the oven the way these are. I contemplate another one and then decide against it because I really won’t be able to eat dinner.

Instead, I head into my room and change into a pair of dress pants and a button-down shirt. I skip the tie and suit jacket since it’s a hot summer night. I opt to roll up the sleeves of my shirt. Not all due to the fact I’ve caught Hadley checking out my forearms and tattoos before. Nope, it’s because I know it’s going to be warm outside.

As I’m strolling into the living room a few minutes later, my phone dings. I pull it out of my pocket to find I have a new email at the address I set up when I submitted my DNA to the ancestry match website months ago.

“It might be nothing. It might be nothing,” I mutter. My eyes widen when I see the subject: “You have a new match.”

I quickly click on the email and scan its contents, which tell me the website has found a woman by the name of Donna who might be related to me through my grandfather Peter Winslow, my dad’s biological father. I don’t get any other information about her, just the ability to send her a message via the website.

I debate what to do for a few beats before finally clicking on the link. My fingers fumble on the keys as I try to figure out what to say. I don’t want to come on too strong. I finally settle on introducing myself—well, just my first name—telling her how I’m related to Peter, and asking her how she’s related to him.

“Ready?” Hadley comes strolling into the room as I’m hitting Send on the message.