My Stepbrother, My Best Friend by Ashley Sands

Author:Ashley Sands [Sands, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Cole

Hand in hand, Sofia and I walked through the downtown area. It was a crisp fall evening, but it was still nice enough to be outside. We had just finished dinner and a movie and were walking around before heading back to her place. It was Friday night and neither one of us had to work the next day. A rarity for both of us. We had enjoyed a lovely evening and neither one of us wanted it to end. We were trying to decide on a place to have dessert. So far, nothing had struck us, but we were having fun walking and window shopping.

"Oh, wouldn't that be cute to get our parents as an engagement present?" Sofia asked as she steered me towards a window full of unique kitchen gadgets. There was a plethora of items in the window and I wasn't sure which one she was talking about.

"You mean the cake mixer? I think Mom already has one," I said and stood behind her and looked over her shoulder into the window. I rested my hands comfortably on her hips. Even though it still gave me a thrill to be able to do that. That I could touch her whenever I wanted. That I could take her hand, that it was the most natural thing in the world for her to lean into me as we looked in the window.

"No, not that, the bread maker," she said.

"Your Dad would love it. Mom would kill you," I said.

"Why?" she asked and tilted her head to look at me.

"She's trying to lose weight before the wedding. Going to do the no-carb thing. You dangle a bread maker in front of her and the diet will go right out the window," I said.

"Fair enough. So, what do you suggest?" she asked.

"Maybe a nice weekend away?" I suggested.

"Sure, where?"

"Maybe at the beach? I saw a few great deals online. I could check them out and send them to you?"

"Sure, that sounds great," she said and then turned away from the window and started walking again.

I followed her, taking her hand back in mine. "I have that vacuum cleaner in my car," I told her.

"Oh good," she said. Her vacuum had broken a few days ago and I had offered to bring mine over so that she could vacuum. Or I would. I had been spending more time at her place than my own; I felt like I should contribute to the cleaning. So far, she had always done it when I wasn't there.

"I'll do it when we get to your place," I said. It was on the tip of my tongue to say 'home' but I refrained. Even if that was what I was starting to feel.

"You will do no such thing," she said and tugged on my arm.

"Why not. I'm there enough. I should help with the cleaning," I said.

"You work hard enough, plus it's my place. You shouldn't have to clean it," she said.

I longed to tell her that I wanted it to be our place.

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