Page 8 of More Than a Hero (Baytown Heroes #12)

Pete immediately realized why he’d been nervous about this date. It was because he genuinely liked what he already knew about Angie, and he really wanted the night to go well.

There was always that underlying tension when dating someone you might run into professionally or even at the grocery store.

A bad date meant awkward encounters. That was one reason he’d been relieved when his last relationship hadn’t been with someone from the Shore.

When it ended, it ended cleanly. No unexpected run-ins or lingering awkwardness.

But as he stared at Angie, watching the way her lips curved into an easy smile, something settled in him.

He wasn’t nervous anymore. She had an ease about her, a quiet confidence, as though she wasn’t trying to impress him or put on any kind of act.

Angie was simply herself. And damn, if that wasn’t incredibly sexy.

“Have you been on the Shore for long?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Shaking his head, he replied, “No. I didn’t grow up here. I’m from Newport News.”

“Oh, that’s not far. I’m from Williamsburg, but I’ve been out here for about five years.”

“I remember visiting Colonial Williamsburg once as a teenager,” he said. “It was on a senior trip. I’m embarrassed to admit that at the time, I wasn’t all that interested in it. But I must’ve paid attention because I still remember being impressed with the restored buildings.”

Her eyes lit up. “I love Colonial Williamsburg! I was such a history nerd.” She grinned, shaking her head. “I haven’t been back in years… well, I mean, not to the historic district. But I still visit Williamsburg because my brother and his family live there.”

She lifted her beer, taking a sip, and when she pulled the bottle away, her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop lingering on her bottom lip.

Pete’s breath hitched. His gaze locked onto her mouth, the soft sweep of her tongue, the slight glisten of moisture against her lip. For a second, he almost missed that she was still speaking.

“Now that I think about it, I need to make a trip back to the colonial area next time I visit.”

He wanted to ask about her family, wanted to know everything, but he hesitated. If she didn’t have a great home life, he’d have just led them into an awkward conversation. And if she did have a good relationship with her family, that meant she’d likely turn the question back on him.

And his family? Not exactly something he wanted to get into over barbecue. Before he could figure out how to navigate that landmine, their food arrived, and Angie’s eyes widened as the server set down the massive platter in front of her.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, staring at the overflowing plate of barbecue. “I thought we’d get tiny portions of pork, chicken, and brisket. I had no idea it was this much food!”

Pete chuckled. “Dig in and enjoy. If you can’t eat it all, at least you know it’ll make for some great leftovers.”

“You’re right about that.” She picked up her fork, eyeing the platter with delight. “Barbecue is always just as good the next day.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they ate, and Pete couldn’t help but appreciate how Angie really dove into her meal—no tiny, polite bites just to impress him. She took full, satisfied forkfuls, humming in appreciation after the first taste.

And damn if those little sounds didn’t make his brain go in a completely inappropriate direction. He forced himself to focus on his own plate, pushing away thoughts of what else might make her moan like that.

He was nearly finished with his meal when she slowed down, leaning back in her chair with a contented sigh. “I have to tell my grandparents about this place. My grandfather loves a good barbecue, and I don’t think he’s ever been here.”

Her comment caught him off guard. He’d been curious about her family but hadn’t considered the possibility of her grandparents still being in the picture.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “Do they live out here on the Shore?”

“Oh yes,” she said, laughing. “In fact, they live in the townhouse next to mine.”

His eyes widened.

She grinned at his reaction. “It’s my dad’s parents. They lived in Maryland, but when I moved here, they decided they wanted to be closer. I was renting a townhouse duplex at the time, and the other side was available. They sold their house and moved in.”

He hesitated, now really wanting to know more but still unsure if he should ask.

As if reading his mind, she smirked. “I can tell you’re dying to ask if it’s a pain having my grandparents as my neighbors.

” She shook her head, her eyes full of warmth.

“And I can honestly say—not at all. They’re such cool people, and having them close means I never have to worry about them.

Plus, my parents live just down the street. ”

Pete’s head jerked back slightly. “Your parents live here, too?”

“Yep.” She popped the “p,” clearly amused by his reaction.

“And it’s all good. I’m close to my parents and my grandparents.

” Her expression softened. “My mom’s dad passed away several years ago, and my grandmother needed a lot of care.

Once I saw how great the Careway Assisted Living facility was, we moved her in.

I don’t know if you know Belle Simmons, but she’s the head nurse administrator.

They take such good care of my grandmother. ”

“I do know Belle. Her husband is a detective I work with occasionally.”

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot about that.” She shook her head. “That’s one thing about the Shore, isn’t it? It doesn’t take long before you start making connections.”

By the time they finished most of their food, the restaurant had gotten even louder with the Friday night crowd. When the server stopped by, Angie asked for a to-go box.

Pete found himself stalling, not wanting the date to end. If people weren’t waiting for tables, he would’ve suggested ordering another beer. But before he could figure out what to do, Angie leaned forward, her fingers toying with the edge of her napkin.

“I feel like we were just starting to really get to know each other.” She held his gaze. “I hate for this to end.”

The breath he’d been holding rushed out. He grinned. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Her lips curved. “Then… how about you follow me home? We can have another beer there. No noise, no crowd.”

His smile turned slow, easy. “I’d love that, Angie.”

The server returned, setting the to-go box in front of her. Pete watched as she carefully boxed up the extra food, biting her lip in thought.

“You’re gonna have enough for another meal,” Pete said.

“That’s true if it was just for me.” She scrunched her nose. “But I was going to take this to my grandparents. Now I’m realizing it’s not enough for both of them.”

Pete signaled the server. “Add another triple barbecue meal for takeout. Put it on my bill.”

The server grinned. “Yes, sir.”

Angie’s mouth dropped open. “Pete, please let me?—”

“Nope.” He smirked. “Don’t even suggest it. My treat.”

Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she just shook her head, her expression softening. “That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, but the look she gave him made him feel ten feet tall.

When they walked out, he placed a hand lightly on her back, guiding her toward the door.

The drive to her townhouse was short, but Pete found himself appreciating the extra minutes to process how much he liked being around Angie.

It had been a long time since he’d felt this way on a first date—comfortable, intrigued, hopeful.

He followed her car through the quiet, tree-lined neighborhood, pulling into a spot in front of her home. The townhouse was charming, just like her—brick exterior, a welcoming front porch with a cozy-looking swing, and warm light glowing from the windows.

She parked and slid out of her vehicle with a smile, giving him a little wave as he stepped out of his own SUV.

“Come on in,” she said, leading the way to the door. “I can put the leftovers in the refrigerator and get us another beer.”

He followed her inside, taking in the space as she disappeared into the kitchen. The place felt like her. It wasn’t just a house—it was a home.

A woven throw blanket was draped over the arm of the sofa, and a book lay open on the side table as if she’d been reading it before she left for work. The scent of something light and floral lingered in the air, barely noticeable, but enough to make him think of her.

She reappeared a moment later, two bottles in hand.

“Here we go,” she said, offering him one as she kicked off her shoes. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He settled onto the sofa, and she curled up beside him, tucking her feet underneath her.

“This is nice,” he murmured, glancing around again.

Her brows lifted. “You like my place?”

He took a sip of his beer, then nodded. “Yeah. It looks like you. Feels like a home.”

Her smile softened as she looked around, as if seeing it through his eyes for the first time. “Thanks. It is home. I’ve lived here long enough now that I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

He let his gaze linger on her. Her hair was slightly tousled from the night air, her lip gloss gone after the meal, and her eyes held a touch of fatigue, but she was beautiful. Even more so now, sitting here, relaxed in her space, with a beer in hand and an easy smile on her lips.

“So,” she said, twisting slightly to face him. “Honest thoughts on the date so far?”

He huffed out a short laugh. “You really just jump in and go for the goal right away, don’t you?”

Her lips twitched. “Would you rather I dance around it?”

“Not at all.” He let his arm drape across the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing lightly against her shoulder. “Since you asked—yeah, I’m enjoying myself. A lot.”

Her eyes searched his face, something quiet and unreadable flickering in their depths. Then she smiled again. “Good. Me too.”

For a moment, they just sat there, the hum of the refrigerator in the background, the faint tick of a clock on the wall.

The silence was comfortable. Pete had been on enough dates to know this feeling didn’t come often.

And if he had his way, tonight wouldn’t be the last time he sat beside Angie, in this home that already felt like one he could come to know.