“Damn hospital coffee still tasted awful,” Sy mutters from the backseat, and I bite back a smile.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Knox’s grandma says, followed by what I can only assume is a loving smack to his knee. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was,” he insists. “And they woke me up every two hours to ask if I was sleeping.”
That gets a chuckle from Knox’s mom, who leans forward between the seats, her tone playfully conspiratorial. “So, Cami…be honest. Would you survive a full day in a house with this one?”
Before I can answer, Sy grumbles, “Bet she says yes just to spite me.”
I laugh. “Honestly? I think I’d hold my own.”
“You hear that?” he says with a huff that’s more amused than annoyed. “Another smartass in the family. We’re doomed.”
My heart lifts like a balloon caught in the breeze, tugged upward by those three words.In the family. Like they’ve already welcomed me in.
Dammit. I bite my lip and stare out the windshield. I amnotfalling for his entire bloodline.
Knox rests his hand on my thigh, then squeezes gently as if he can sense I’m melting inside. “Thinking about taking my favoritesmartassinto town for chowder. You in?”
I tilt my head toward him, the warmth in his rasp doing ridiculous things to my insides. “Only if you let me steal your bread.”
His smile is crooked, eyes flicking down to where his hand still rests on my thigh. “Might even share willingly.”
Sy clears his throat. “You two gonna flirt all the way home, or can an old man nap in peace?”
Claire snorts from the backseat. “Leave them alone, Dad.”
But Sy’s not done. “Why drive to town for chowder when we can make it at home? Together. Well, you all can make it. Apparently I’ve got”—he waves a hand—“greater turbo…bursi-something?—”
Claire cuts in, deadpan. “Greater trochanteric bursitis, Dad.”
Sy huffs. “Yeah, that. Makes me a liability. I’m under orders to sit my ass down and behave.”
Hazel pipes up, cheerful as ever. “Knox, honey, turn around and take us to Tucker’s Market, would you? You know the drill. Fresh clams from Portsmouth Bay. I’ve got the rest covered. Including extra bread for Cami.”
Knox chuckles, then reaches for my hand and brings it to his mouth, his lips pressing tenderly against my knuckles. “Sounds like homemade chowder it is.”
We’ve done far more than hold hands, so the gesture shouldn’t make my stomach flip. Still, something about the ease and unguarded affection—in front of his family—unravels me, makes me want to say,I’m in love with you too,so badly, it burns on the back of my tongue.
But I don’t.
Instead, I keep those words locked up in the quietest corner of my heart where they still feel safe.
Back at his grandparents’ house, Hazel and Claire settle Sy in the den while Knox disappears into the kitchen with shucked clams from Tucker’s Market. Sleeves pushed up and fridge door open, he’s already gathering ingredients for us to all help prepare comfort in a soup pot.
I head upstairs to the guest room for a few minutes, my heart weirdly full and uneasy at the same time. I owe my dad a real call.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare at my phone screen longer than necessary.
Then I finally tap his name.
“Hey, sweetie!” he booms through the speaker, warm as a hug. “You okay?”
Just hearing him makes my chest tighten. I blink fast and swallow. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just…I’ve been meaning to call you all week.”
“Well, I’ve been meaning to call you back. We’re both terrible at phone tag.” A beat passes. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I whisper, curling my legs beneath me. “And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of off this summer. I know you’re excited about the job and the apartment, and I’m grateful. I am. It’s just?—”
