Page 15 of More Than a Hero (Baytown Heroes #12)

Another hand shot up. "I'm Darius. What would we even talk about?"

Angie smiled at his honesty. "Are you worried you wouldn’t have anything in common?"

He nodded.

"That’s one of the best parts of this," she assured him. "You’ll get to know someone who has a lifetime of stories to share. Maybe they have old photo albums they need help organizing. They can tell you what life was like when they were your age. And I promise you’ll be surprised how much you actually have in common. "

"I'm Curly," another boy chimed in. "Where will we meet them?"

"To start, Mr. Bolton and I thought we’d have you come to the Careway Assisted Living, where they have several meeting rooms. I know you guys usually come here on Thursday nights.

So for a few weeks, we’d tweak the schedule.

After thirty minutes in the gym and then a shower, he and Mr. Pendleton would bring you over to the nursing home.

Once we’re comfortable, we’ll plan outings. "

She continued fielding their questions, answering with patience and enthusiasm. As their session came to a close, she wrapped things up.

"You don’t have to decide right now," she assured them. "Think about it, talk it over with your parent or guardian, and let Mr. Bolton or me know?—"

"I'm in."

The quiet but firm voice cut through the room. Angie turned toward the speaker, a boy who had been silent throughout the entire meeting. He tilted his head slightly, his expression steady, his words carrying weight.

"I'm Jimmy," he said. He exhaled, as if gathering his thoughts.

"I remember my grandpop. I was five when he died.

My dad's never been around, so it's just me, my mom, and my little sister.

Before he got sick, he lived with us. He read me stories at night.

He came to my kindergarten Christmas program when my mom had to work.

I remember sitting with him afterward, eating cookies, feeling proud I had someone there for me. "

The room fell utterly silent. Angie was certain her heartbeat was the only sound.

Jimmy hesitated for the briefest moment, as if weighing his words, but then he looked around at his friends, unashamed.

"If he were still here, he’d be the one telling me stories about the old days.

He’d be the one listening when I’m confused, upset, or pissed off.

He’d be the one telling me when it’s right to fight and when it’s right to walk away.

" His gaze shifted toward Richard before settling on Pete.

"You've taken on that role, but I know it’s hard. You got a bunch of us to look after, and a tough job to do. It’d be nice to have someone else to call if I needed to. "

He turned back to Angie, his deep brown eyes meeting hers with quiet sincerity. She blinked rapidly, forcing the moisture threatening to spill from her eyes to stay put.

"And now," he continued, "you're offering me that. And if, for all that, I can help them, just like I helped my grandpop... then yeah. I’m in."

A heartbeat of silence. One by one, the other nine boys echoed their agreement, their faces breaking into smiles.

Angie exhaled, a warmth blooming in her chest. This was it. The first step in something bigger than any of them had realized. At the end, they followed Richard’s van, and all the boys were dropped off at their apartment buildings. Pete watched as they each made it to their door.

The ride home was filled with her excitement. She practically buzzed in the passenger seat of Pete’s truck, replaying moments from the meeting with an energy that refused to be contained.

“I mean, did you see their faces, Pete?” she gushed, twisting toward him in her seat. “I knew they’d be interested, but I didn’t expect them to jump on board so quickly! And Jimmy—oh my God, Jimmy! He completely floored me when he took that chance to answer first.”

Pete glanced at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a quiet smile. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and steady. “That one got to me, too.”

Angie exhaled sharply, still riding the high of the moment. “This is going to work, Pete. I can feel it. It’s going to be something special.”

His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, and he gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I think it is.”

Unlike her, he wasn’t bursting with words, but there was something in the way he spoke. It was in the way he carried himself that told her he felt it, too. He wasn’t just indulging her excitement. He was in this with her.

When they pulled up in front of her house, the truck idled for a moment, both of them lingering.

Pete finally turned to her. “I’ll walk you up.”

She smiled, stepping out as he rounded the front of the truck and fell into step beside her. The night air was cool, but she felt warm all over.

They climbed the short steps to her front porch, the soft glow of the porch light casting long shadows across the worn wooden planks. Angie turned to face him, her pulse kicking up as she met his steady gaze.

“So,” she murmured, tilting her head, “does this mean you’re going to let me celebrate properly?”

Pete arched a brow. “What exactly does ‘celebrate properly’ mean?”

Her lips curved. “This.”

She reached for him, fisting the fabric of his jacket and tugging him forward. He didn’t resist. The moment her mouth met his, he was there. Solid, warm, and consuming her in a way that sent heat flashing through every nerve ending.

The kiss wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was deep, demanding, and a little reckless.

Pete’s hands landed on her hips, pulling her flush against him as his lips parted, his tongue sweeping over hers.

A small, desperate sound escaped her throat, and he answered with a low growl, angling his head to take more.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as he pressed her back against the door. She could feel the strength in his body, the barely leashed control in the way his hands gripped her waist, the way he kissed her like he was fighting not to push further.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing hard, Angie let out a shaky laugh. “Well,” she whispered, forehead still resting against his, “that was a pretty good celebration.”

Pete chuckled, his breath warm against her lips. “Yeah. But if we don’t stop now, I’m not going to leave.”

Angie bit her lower lip, fighting the urge to tell him so don’t . But he was right. They had started something here—something real. And she wasn’t about to rush it.

Instead, she exhaled and pulled back slightly. “Saturday,” she said. “Come over in the afternoon. We’ll talk more about the program. Maybe cook something together.”

Pete’s gaze stayed locked on hers, intense and unreadable for a moment. Then he nodded. “Saturday.”

With one last lingering touch, he brushed his thumb lightly over her lower lip before he took a step back.

“Night, Angie.”

She watched as he walked down the steps, climbed into his SUV, and pulled away, her entire body still humming from his touch. With a dreamy sigh, she unlocked her door, stepped inside, and leaned against it. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.