They finished dinner, and she helped carry plates into the kitchen.The Norbert, a smaller version of the main house that had hosted Boo’s wedding reception, still possessed the vintage charm of the rest of the Kingston homes, all Victorians built during a time of grandeur and wealth.
This home, however, wasn’t outfitted with the circular conversation sofas or cigar and wingback chairs of the main house.Instead, a leather Chesterfield sofa sat in front of the grand marble fireplace over a gleaming parquet floor, the scent of lemon hinting at a recent oiling of the oak banister that wound up to the second floor.
She set the dishes on the quartz countertop in the remodeled kitchen.Boo stood at the sink, rinsing and loading them into the dishwasher.
Penny came in with another load of plates.“Did you see that moon outside?It’s gorgeous.”She glanced at Emberly and winked.
Emberly just stood there.
Penny smiled warmly.“Do I need to be clearer?”
Maybe.“I can help clean up.”
Boo shut off the water.Turned.“Steinbeck has never brought a girl home before.You definitely mean something to him.Don’t waste the moonlight.”
Oh.
Harper had also come inside, holding the leftover salad and bun basket.“It’s a gorgeous night.”
“Fine.Okay.”And she laughed.Mostly because they were smiling, but maybe a part of her wished...
Nope.This was just a show.Nothing real here?—
Steinbeck had left the porch, helping his brothers carry firewood out to what looked like a firepit area on the beach.She toed off her shoes and stepped out onto the freshly clipped grass, letting the coolness soak into her.
An old memory rose—laughter, she and Nimue running through a park, playing a game.Hide-and-seek with their mother.
She shook it away and walked out to the beach.The waves whispered against the shoreline, the lake tranquil, the moonlight dragging a lazy finger across the ripples in the water.
Conrad and Jack built a teepee of wood while their dad unloaded the firewood from Steinbeck’s arms onto a wood cradle.
Oaken sat on a rough-hewn wooden bench with his guitar, tuning it, the sounds soft in the air.
Distant in her head stirred the wordRun, but she dismissed it.Nothing to fear here.She’d made it through the worst of it.
Now she just had to survive the romance of a moonlit night.
The fire lit with Jack blowing on newspaper, and Conrad fed in kindling.The crackle grew, and the flame caught the logs, started to snap, shooting tiny embers into the night.
Steinbeck smacked woodchips from his hands, and Conrad nodded toward Emberly.Grinned.
Stein turned, and in the glow of the fire, he stood looking strong and safe.The man who’d opened her cage in the darkness and caught her as she shook off her fear.His burnished hair flickered gold, an unreadable emotion in his fathomless blue eyes.Desire?
No.It couldn’t be.Except a forbidden spark flamed when he stepped over to her.He smelled of the soap from his earlier shower (she’d taken her own shower in her gorgeous guest room at the Norbert) and maybe a little of the cotton of his shirt, and not a little redolence of Steinbeck—determination, might, and an unyielding sense of sanctuary.
Oh brother.Now she was in a Hallmark movie.
He held out his hand.“Want a tour of the grounds?”
He played his part well.
She took his hand, and he tugged her away toward the darkness, along the grass and lakeshore.
“The estate was built by my great-great-grandfather Bing Kingston.He was a newspaper baron and built a home for each of his sons back in the Gilded Era.I grew up in the carriage house, which my dad remodeled.Grandma and Grandpa lived in the Rudolph—one of our rentals.”He pointed to a darkened Victorian across the lawn.“I think probably they’ll rent out the Norbert when Jack leaves.”
“He’s leaving?”
“Probably.He’s working on his travel bus, although he has a home in Florida.I think he’s probably going to propose to Harper first.”
