Page 24 of Surrendering His Heart (Buena Hills #4)

The pencil sketch included a simple outline of a rickety old house set behind a field of tombstones with a few bones poking out of the dirt. Some ghosts danced around the outer walls of the structure, and a twisted tree with a broomstick stuck in its leafless branches tied the whole thing together.

“I can’t take all the credit.” Directing her comments to Isla felt much safer to Hallie than having to look at Christian’s face. That attractive man beside her had taken a sledgehammer to her self-control. “My sister helped me come up with it. She’s the real artistic genius in the family.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Hallie wasn’t sure if Christian had intended to say the words out loud, or if they were meant to be mumbled under his breath. Either way, she heard them, and her face flushed at the compliment.

“No really,” she said, turning to him. Bad idea. He studied her with the same intensity that his daughter had studied the sketch. Except his brown eyes appeared way broodier, and did she detect some longing in them?

Excuse me? Earth to Hallie. Christian isn’t pining for you.

That would be ridiculous. Tyler’s departing warning must be putting ideas into her head that didn’t belong.

“Elise studies art,” Hallie explained. “Many of my abilities came from her teaching me different techniques. It’s really helped with my baking.”

Isla reached over to snatch the paper back from her father. “Can you put a witch flying over the house? Right here?” She pointed to the empty space above the dilapidated chimney on the weathered house.

Man, Christian hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned his daughter’s love for Halloween .

Hallie rotated the page toward herself, pursing her lips as she considered the idea.

Since starting Hallie’s Cakes, she’d stretched herself past what she thought she could do many times.

Those instances had helped her grow as a baker and taught her not to back down from any challenge.

Attempting to create something suspended in the air would be a first though.

But looking at Isla’s hopeful face made up her mind. If the girl wanted a flying witch, Hallie would make it happen, one way or another.

“I can try.” She dug through her bag until she found a pencil.

“How can you make a witch suspended on a cake?” Christian asked skeptically. He’d moved away from the end of the couch and was leaning over to get a better look at the drawing.

“On a broomstick,” Isla and Hallie said in unison.

“Duh.” Hallie added, shooting a teasing smile at Christian.

Another bad idea.

Her eyes were at exactly the right angle to study his chiseled jaw, which led to lingering admiration all the way down to the way his t-shirt pulled slightly against the muscles of his chest. That spicy scent she’d come to associate with him swirled around her head, giving her unrealistic notions of bottling the smell to enjoy it later.

She’d call it Eau de Christian, said in a fancy French accent with extra phlegm.

Was that creepy?

Yes. Yes, it was.

Christian held his hands up in surrender. “My bad.” He smirked, though something sparked in those enchanting eyes as they passed from Hallie to his daughter and back. “You seem to have everything under control, so I’ll let you girls handle the planning.”

That’s probably wise. Having him on the same couch, even when they weren’t touching, was putting her heart in severe danger of cardiac arrest.

He slapped his palms against his thighs once before standing. “If you need me, I’ll be making dinner.”

The mention of food pulled Penelope from her play, and she abandoned the kitchen set to follow her father .

Except she didn’t follow him. Instead, she headed straight for Hallie. Climbing onto the couch beside her, Penelope reached her arms up to be held.

Hallie hesitated before lifting the child onto her lap.

“You stay for dinner?” Penelope’s voice rose in pitch on the last word.

Oh, the sweet girl. Hallie’s heart melted at the tender way the child twirled a strand of her blonde ponytail around her small finger. “Aww, that’s a nice invitation, but I think it’s up to your dad.”

Penelope bobbed her head once. “You stay for dinner.” Sweet and bossy.

Hallie held back a small chuckle, glancing at Christian who stood frozen in the doorway to the kitchen.

“I’m sure Hallie has other plans tonight,” he said.

“Please, Daddy?” Isla’s pleading surprised Hallie even more than the original invitation. Two weeks ago, the girl didn’t want anything to do with her. How quickly things changed, though Hallie wasn’t na?ve enough to think she’d become Isla’s favorite person.

Christian ran a hand down his mouth, bringing Hallie’s unwanted attention to it. His jaw held enough sandy-colored scruff to give him that rugged, irresistible look.

Again … hot.

“I guess I’m outnumbered,” he muttered, pasting on a smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Hallie’s mind recalled the grandmother’s response in Mulan when that question was asked of Li Shang. “Would you like to stay forever?”

Maybe not forever, but Hallie wouldn’t mind staying for a long time. Which meant she shouldn’t stay at all. But how could she leave when two little girls watched her with such hopeful expressions?

“Sure, I’d love to.”