"Your crazy life is a lot of fun," I said. I couldn't help being a little envious.
"Yes it is," Fiona agreed. She patted Sarah on the back. "Go wash your hands for dinner. Don't take long."
"Okay!" Sarah skipped off toward the bathroom.
Fiona raised her eyebrows at me. "So, tell me aboutyourcrazy life. You've been busy?"
My face heated. "What have you heard?" Had Charlie or Seth said something? For that matter, had Connor or Riley?
She laughed at the expression on my face. "No one said anything. Why? Do you have a guilty conscience?"
I cleared my throat. "Of course not. You're right, I've been busy. I got some painting done this afternoon." After Connortook me back to get my car, I did a bit more work, touching up the first draft.
"Have they convinced you to paint them naked yet?" She pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and held it up until I nodded. She poured some into two glasses and handed one to me.
"No." I took a sip. "I'm sure they'd enjoy that, though." They certainly enjoyed painting me. "If they could sit still for long enough."
She laughed and turned to pull the quiche out of the oven. "You might need to do it while they're asleep. They might stay still then."
I hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider sharing a bed with either of them all night. Or literallysleepingbeside them. Would they want that? And if they did, separately or together?
Three of us in a bed would be a tight fit, but two attractive mountain men on either side of me? That didn't sound like the worst thing in the world.
"I'm not sure if they lie still when they sleep," I admitted. "They probably bungee jump."
She laughed. "That sounds about right. They couldn't keep still when we were at school. It used to drive the teachers crazy. Crazier. Not that I was much better, if I'm honest. I was just quieter about it than they were."
"Are you saying you weren't a perfect angel?" I teased.
She snorted. "Not even close, but I mostly turned out all right." She batted her eyelashes.
"You definitely did," I assured her. "Sarah is proof of that."
"That's it, you can never leave town," Fiona declared. "You're good for my ego."
I laughed. "I'm being honest, that's all." After a beat, I asked, "Do you remember Coral Clarke?"
She frowned as she opened a drawer to pull out a knife and started to slice the quiche.
"Not really. I remember the teacher sitting us down and saying she wasn't coming back. I don't think anyone really understood why. We cried, then we went back to cutting pictures out of old magazines. That seems really cold, thinking back."
Her eyes glazed for a moment before she shrugged and went back to slicing.
"Not if you were too young to understand," I assured her. "I would have done the same thing. All of those things seem, I don't know, abstract at that age. On the other hand, if our ice cream drops off the cone…"
She laughed and placed slices of quiche onto plates before carrying them over to the table. The rack of bread and a tub of butter followed, along with a bowl of salad.
"That's instant childhood trauma, right there." She placed knives and forks to either side of the plates and gestured for me and Sarah to take our seats.
"It's ice cream." Sarah slid into her chair.
"Dropping it on the ground is practically the equivalent to the end of the world." Fiona nodded, fighting back a smile.
"Unless you're a dog," Sarah said. "Or a pig. Then you're happy because you're going to eat it." She stuck out her tongue and mimed lapping ice cream off the ground.
She was too cute.
"Maybe we should go around dropping our ice cream more often, for the dogs and pigs?" I suggested.
