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“She’s the one who found Mia,” Bently’s gruff voice answered.
“Oh! You did? You’re just an everyday heroine, then, aren’t you?” Remy joked.
Bently cut Remy a questioning glance before focusing on the sleeping babe on Belle’s shoulder.
“Can you wait until Phoenix wakes up before you go? I know it’s not ideal, but if we move him, he’ll be in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. He’s already been asleep for thirty or so minutes,” Remy asked Bently.
“Uh, sure. Whatever you need,” he said.
“Color with me, Uncle Bently,” Lyra directed.
He grabbed a chair and sat beside his niece, his tan police uniform clinging to his muscled shoulders. A few stray locks of black hair tumbled over his forehead.
“I’m going to go help those customers. Does anyone need anything?” Remy stood.
Belle shook her head.
“Coffee would be nice.” Bently smiled appreciatively.
“Coming right up.” Remy left them alone with the kids at the table.
Bently got to work coloring the prince after Lyra handed him a marker. Seeing this tough ladies’ man being so gentle and loving towards his niece made Belle’s ovaries ache. Not that she wanted children—at least not anytime soon. But witnessing Bently talking about playing with dollhouses was such a stark contrast to her first impressions of him. She’d been very wrong about Bently Evans.
“How’d you meet Remy?” he asked, shaking her from her spiraling thoughts.
“I came in for some coffee and she was having trouble managing the kids and running the whole café by herself.” She sipped her latte again.
He nodded. “Thanks for helping her out.”
“Of course . . . I had no idea you were related to her.”
“Yeah, my brother, Mikel, and Remy got married last year. But they had a long history before that,” he explained.
The urge to say something built, but she wasn’t sure what to start with. She’d already apologized. “She seems nice.”
“Did you know Belle is a nurse, Uncle Bently?” Lyra interjected.
He turned his attention back to the little girl. “I did know that, ladybug.”
“That means she saves people like you saved Mommy and me,” she said matter-of-factly as she continued coloring.
Bently winced. Belle wanted to ask, but it wasn’t exactly her business.
Remy set a cup of black coffee in front of Bently. “I have the perfect way to say thank you, Belle. We’re having our annual pumpkin picking hayride and then a bonfire afterwards with some hot cider and food at my house. Bring your brother and I’ll introduce you to everyone. What’s your number?” Remy pulled out her phone.
“Uh . . . I don’t know if—” Belle glanced at Bently who kept his attention glued to the paper he was coloring.
“I won’t take no for an answer. I’m sure Mia would love to see you and thank you properly.”
Maybe it was time to stop holding back so much and let the walls down. Remy seemed lovely. Why not? Belle rattled off her number.
“Great. I’ll text you the address and information. You bring your pretty self and that brother of yours, and I’ll worry about the rest.” Remy scurried away with Lyra before Belle could respond.
Bently’s jaw was set, his blue eyes flashing as he glanced at her.
“Is it okay with you if I go? I don’t want to intrude,” she said.
“You were invited,” he said as if that would answer the questions swirling around inside her. Does he want me to go? Is he mad at me? Why does it matter so much?
