“No,” I said quickly, feeling my cheeks burn all over again. “No. Not…not yet.”
“Yet?” she squealed.
“Or planning to,” I corrected quickly. “But I was just wondering…if with Nathan, it’s always…like that. In the house.”
I was hoping I didn’t have to explain anymore. I’d spent enough time around the two of them to know there was a magnetic pull that neither of them seemed able to ignore. Nathan was probably the most measured person in the world, but a single shared look turned into a passionate kiss on a countertop, whether I was there or not. Something similar had probably led to whatever I’d accidentally witnessed on Lea’s coffee table.
But this faded memory was confusing.
I liked Daniel Lyons.
Wait,loved. Right?
I’d fantasized about him for years.
And yet, another truth was nipping at the back of my mind. When we’d danced, there had been excitement, yes, but also a strange disconnect. It was as if I were watching myself experience something I’d dreamed about rather than actually feeling it.
And then there was Lucas. The way my body responded to his proximity alone, every nerve ending alert and aware.
His kiss made me forget my own name.
And that low, controlled growl was still echoing through my thoughts.
Sweet Marie.
Even now, my thighs squeezed together.
“Is this about Daniel?” Joni pressed. “Did he kiss you after all that?”
Before I could answer, the squeaky chain-link gate and Lea entered the front yard, followed by her kids like the mother duck inMake Way for Ducklings. “Hey. You two are early.”
“Marie!” Petey, my nine-year-old nephew, shot forward and up the steps to tackle me with a hug around the waist. “You’re back!”
“Hey, kiddo,” I said as I ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Sure am.”
Tommy lingered behind Lea with a shadowed look older than his eleven years as he held four-year-old MJ’s hand. I knew that look. It was the one my own brother had worn for most of my young life after our parents died and he’d had to step up.
“Hey, kid,” I called. “Come here and give me a hug.”
He escorted MJ up the steps and held the door open for Lea, who had picked up Lupe to carry inside.
I accepted kisses from her and Tommy before Joni and I followed them in.
“My favorite sisters,” Lea said as she noted the bag of groceries I put on her counter.
The inside of the house was just as neglected as the outside. Things had been picked up in anticipation of dinner, but a thin layer of dust lay on the baseboards and windowsills, the counters bore streaks of water stains or other substances, and dust bunnies had accumulated in the corners. A far cry from my sister’s usually housekeeping. She and Mike had never been rich, but they’d always been clean.
Joni snorted as she hopped up on the counter while the kids wandered into the living room to say hello to Nathan. “Since when areweyour favorites?”
“Since today,” Lea said as she helped me take groceries out of the bags. “Since we’re the last Zolas left in New York, and you brought food. You know you don’t have to?—”
“I know,” I cut her off gently. “I wanted to. There were leftovers at Prideview from the party, and we’ll make enough dinner tonight so you have stuff for the week.”
Lea’s eyes softened with gratitude and maybe a little shame. “Thanks.”
Joni left to help Nathan with the kids while Lea and I dove into making dinner with the same rhythm we’d had since I was little.
As we worked, more noticeable differences crept in: the weariness in Lea’s voice as she chatted about neighborhood gossip and the kids’ upcoming school schedules, the dark circles under her eyes, the way her clothes hung off her already slight form. Grief had hollowed her out.
