Fearless, Abby Brooks [leveled readers .txt] 📗

“That was tasty,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

I stared at the empty glass.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no…!

Did she just swallow her engagement ring? I blinked, then turned my attention to her, trying to decide if I needed to rush her to the hospital or…what did one do when a one-of-a-kind diamond hits the digestive track?

Evie cocked her head, blinking innocently. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” I frowned. “Um…Are you…?”

She burst into laughter and lifted her hand from under the table. When she opened her fist, the diamond glittered, nestled in her palm. “I’m sorry. I was gonna try and take the joke a little further, but I don’t think I’ve seen you look that panicked. Ever.”

I dropped into my chair and put my head between my legs.

“Alex?” She laughed as she put a hand on my shoulder.

“Just give me a second. I need to recover from this heart attack.” When I lifted my face, her smile matched mine. “This isn’t the way I saw this going.”

“What can I say?” she replied. “I like to keep you on your toes.”

“That you do.” I took the ring from her and stared at the stone. “You also make me happier than I ever dreamed possible and I want to keep you forever. I’ll buy you flowers every day to make amends for showing up at your house with flowers for my mom and not you. I’ll respect your privacy and let you decide what’s best for you and I swear, we’ll get so good at our cute couple thing that Morgan and Larry will learn to blush.” I slipped off the chair and kneeled at her feet. “Eveline McAllister, will you marry me?”

Tears swam in her eyes as she graced me with her beautiful smile. “You better believe it, mister.”

I slipped the ring on her finger, then turned on some music, pulling Evie into my arms. I sang “All of Me” and we danced through the house as Morgan lifted his face and howled.

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Next in the Wildrose Landing series is Jack and Amelia’s story, SHAMELESS. Turn the page for a sneak peek, or click here to grab it now.

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Chapter One

Jack

Was something in the house on fire? Again?

I turned off the hairdryer aimed at my daughter Charlie’s head and gave it a sniff. Nope. The appliance was ancient, but it wasn’t the source of the stink. I smelled her half-dried curls and got a whiff of strawberry shampoo. Not there either, thank goodness. She’d forgiven plenty of mistakes regarding her hair, but I’d never live it down if I caught it on fire.

Her bright eyes met mine. “Whatsa matter, Daddy?”

I sniffed again. Definitely smoke coming from somewhere. “Do you smell—”

“Dad!” Connor’s voice thundered down the hallway with the shriek of the fire alarm following behind.

Charlie’s mouth formed a surprised O as I handed her the hairdryer. “Stay here.”

“But Daddy…”

“Just stay, Charlie.” I launched down the hallway toward the cloud of smoke creeping from the kitchen. As I rounded the corner, Garrett tossed a cup of water into a pan on the stove.

“I got it!” he yelled, steam and smoke billowing from the mess.

Garrett snatched a stack of mail off the table while Connor hauled a chair under the screeching fire alarm. My sons scrambled up together to fan the device while I yanked open a window to let in the morning air. Birdsong replaced the fire alarm as Charlie appeared in the doorway, her hair half-dry and completely frizzed. Hopefully the babysitter would know what to do for her because there was no way I could fix that—especially considering I was already late.

“What happened?” she asked in her six-year-old voice.

I swiped a hand through my dark curls then carefully carried the still smoking pan to the sink. “I forgot about the pancakes while I dried your hair and this one burnt to a crisp.”

“Oh.” Charlie’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”

The pan hit the sink with a hiss, and I hurried across the kitchen to crouch in front of her. “No, no, no, baby. This isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah.” Garrett bobbed his head and puffed out his bottom lip. “It’s Dad’s.”

I scoffed, then turned to him with incredulous eyes. “Oh yeah? You think you could do better?”

“Probably.” My oldest shrugged, his gaze hitting mine before rolling away. His message was clear: You’re not exactly killing it, Old Man.

“Mommy always did Charlie’s hair after breakfast.” Connor smiled helpfully.

With a sigh, I stood, nodding. “Got it. First stuff your faces. Then fight the curl monster.”

And, somewhere along the way, I needed to find time to shower, shave, and get ready for work without burning the house down. It had been infinitely easier when they were in school. Now that summer break had arrived, our mornings were unpredictable, which spelled disaster for me. I needed the structure of deadlines and schedules. This free-for-all approach to the morning was gonna kill me. Maybe I needed to tighten our routine? Set their alarms like they were getting up for school? The thought of an itemized checklist on the fridge and my kids marching through the morning in an orderly fashion was hard to resist.

Sure. Father of the year, right there.

While that would make things easier for me, it would righteously suck for the kids. I couldn’t do that to them.

I ruffled Connor’s blond hair, then pulled open the cupboard. “Looks like it’s a cereal kind of morning.”

“I can do it.” Garrett yanked open the fridge and hauled out a gallon of milk, then met my uncertain gaze with a frown. “Seriously, Dad. I can do it.”

As the oldest of the Cooper crew, he’d tried so hard to step up after Natalie passed, but a nine-year-old’s help often led