Page 47 of More Than a Hero (Baytown Heroes #12)

By the time the last car pulled away from the driveway, Pete leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and took a long breath. The kind of breath you only let out when the chaos finally gives way to stillness. The house was quiet now.

Sunlight streamed in through the front windows, warm and golden, dust motes floating lazily in the air.

The smell of cookies and muffins lingered—Bess had brought enough for a small army.

Belle had brought flowers, the bouquet now offering a sweet scent.

Somewhere in the kitchen, a card from Cora and Jeremy rested beside a wrapped tin of herbal tea.

Mark and Karen had stopped by too, with Karen not letting Angie get away with anything less than elevated rest and perfectly timed ice packs.

It had been a steady stream of hugs, chatter, tears, and can-you-believe-it stories all day long. And Angie had smiled through every second of it with her leg propped on a pillow, the wrap firm around her swollen knee.

Now, though, the house had hushed.

Pete crossed the room slowly and sank beside her on the sofa, careful not to jostle her leg. The cushions cradled them as Angie let out a soft sigh, leaning against his side.

“Still good?” he asked, glancing at her knee.

She nodded, eyes soft. “Sore. But manageable. I mean, Cora and Karen checked it. That’s what happens when you have friends who are physicians and nurses. If I survive their care, I can survive anything.”

He smiled, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. “You were a damn hero.”

“Pete, honey, I was just in survival mode. But thank God, I had backup.” She looked up at him with that look that always leveled him—the warmth in her eyes hit deeper than anything he’d ever felt before. “Those kids… the seniors… together they were so much more than just a hero.”

He glanced around the room. Earlier, throw pillows had been tossed to the side, mugs were half full on coasters, and paper plates of goodies had been left with nothing more than a little residual powdered sugar.

But Angie’s parents and grandparents had cleaned every surface before they offered final hugs with tearful thanks to him and then heartfelt hugs to Angie.

“Your folks,” he said softly. “Your grandparents… they’re something else.”

Angie’s eyes went glassy for a second. “Yeah. I’m lucky.”

He hesitated, holding her tightly. “You know… I’ve always done better alone. Just how I’m wired, I guess. But somehow you and your people—you’ve pulled me in like it was always meant to be that way.”

Her lips twitched. “Well… I think you and I are fated to be.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that started low and ended with something like awe. “The timing might suck, but I have something to talk to you about.”

Eyes wide, she stared, uncertainty filling her expression. “Okay. That sounds ominous, but okay…”

“I got a call from my landlady the other day. I didn’t say anything about it. I… uh… I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

“Pete, honey, just talk to me. Please.”

“She’s decided to sell the house. She wanted to give me the first chance to buy it, or I could find another place to rent.”

Angie’s tongue swiped her bottom lip. “Okay…”

“The thing is that I don’t mind buying since I know I’m staying in the area. But… honestly, my rental house was good enough in the past, but it’s not what I want to buy.”

Now, her brow furrowed, but she nodded.

“I could buy a place, ask you to look with me, and then we could move in together,” he continued, now feeling his heart pounding more as the anxiety rolled over him.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, pressing her lips tightly together.

“But you love this place with your grandparents next door and your parents just a few houses down the street. And I know you don’t want to give that up… and honestly? I don’t want you to.”

“So… what are you thinking about doing?” she asked, a tremor running through her voice.

He sucked in a deep breath, then swallowed. “Angie, sweetheart… what do you think about me just staying here?”

She blinked, then gasped. Her lips curved as her eyes widened. “You mean like—move in? Here? With me?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, heart now galloping. “Not just sometimes at your place and sometimes at mine. But here… home. Together.”

The air rushed from her lungs, and she tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “I don’t know…”

He froze, and his heart plunged. Then the sparkle in her eyes caught his attention.

She smiled and shrugged. “I’m uncertain if Queenie will give up your bed.”

He laughed, shoulders loosening as everything inside him settled into place. “She’ll share. As long as you don’t try to move her blanket.”

Angie grinned. “Fine. But you’re on litter box duty.”

“Deal.”

They sat in silence for a moment, wrapped up in each other as the light stretched long across the floor, the last shadows of the day fading into peace. Her head leaned on his shoulder, her fingers laced gently with his.

He turned to her, voice low. “I love you, Angie.”

She looked up at him, eyes shimmering. “I love you too, Pete.”

The kiss was soft, slow, unhurried—like neither of them needed anything more than this right now. Not safety, not heroics, not even words.

Just this moment. The warmth of a sunlit room. The hush after a storm. The quiet promise of forever.

The smell of grilled burgers and charcoal drifted lazily through the backyard, mingling with the scent of blooming roses and freshly cut grass.

Angie stood near the picnic table, one hand resting on her cane, the other wrapped around a lemonade.

Her knee was still tender, but she didn’t care because everything else in her world was perfect.

Preteens and teens darted through the yard in a flurry of shouts and laughter.

“Kyron! Quit throwing corn cobs like they’re grenades!” Angie called, half laughing as Pete swiped one off the grill just in time.

“I wasn’t gonna hit nobody!” Kyron shouted, grinning.

Robert sat in one of the folding chairs beneath the oak tree, watching the chaos with quiet amusement. Next to him, Caleb and Jimmy were deep in conversation—probably rehashing the Great Rescue for the hundredth time.

“Hey, Jimmy,” Tony yelled, “tell it again—how you got Mr. Marty out and didn’t even trip!”

“Yeah!” Darius added. “And how Pete shot the guy right in the arm!”

“I was there, too!” Jalen shouted. “I saw it!”

“Oh Lord,” Rosetta said, waving her lemonade as she joined Angie by the table. “These boys’ll be seventy and still telling this story. By then, Tamarcus will be ten feet tall and shootin’ laser beams.”

Angie laughed, her cheeks flushed from the heat and happiness.

Hannah and Harold were gathering paper plates, and Bertram was sneaking his second slice of peach pie.

George had somehow gotten hold of the Bluetooth speaker, and one of the kids showed him how to use it to play old Motown, his feet tapping like he wanted to teach the boys how to do the twist.

And Marty sat in a shady spot near the hydrangeas, cane across his lap, beaming like the sun itself. His bandage was gone, his hearing aid freshly fitted, and Hannah hovered like a mother hen.

Pete came up behind her and wrapped an arm gently around her waist.

“You good?” he murmured.

She leaned into him, smiling. “I’m great.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple and passed her a deviled egg from the tray in his other hand. “Your grandma’s been watching me like a hawk. I think she’s testing my commitment to you by food quantity.”

“She is,” Angie deadpanned. “Next is her potato salad.”

“God help me.”

Queenie—their cat now, though Pete still pretended she was too spoiled to share—was sprawled under the patio table, her tail flicking lazily as she watched a butterfly.

Angie looked around and let the moment settle into her bones.

Her grandparents Stan and Dorothy were chatting with her parents near the patio, while Grammy Ellen swayed in a rocker, humming softly to the music.

The seniors were all telling the tale of how the kids “saved the day,” each version more dramatic than the last. And Pete was beside her at their home.

She looked up at him. “We really did it, huh?”

“We did,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Angie smiled, heart full.

Behind them, Rasheem ran past with Mike, chasing Curly and Darius. A football sailed over the grill. Someone shouted about lemonade refills. Queenie yawned.

The music rose, the laughter swirled, and Angie let herself sink into the pure joy of it all.

It wasn’t just happily ever after. It was exactly right.

Get ready for the next Baytown Hero!

Falling For a Hero