I shake my head. “Are you saying the universe hit him with some kind of instalove spell—”
“No.” Her tone is firm and her gaze serious. “Not at all. This isn’t about love. This is about energy.”
My sigh is like an avalanche. Pen snickers.
“Don’t sound so relieved. Energy is powerful. Did you see what Livy did to me?”
Holy crap.I sure did.
“But you’re attracted to her.”
I think Pen’s eyelashes bat of their own volition. “W-well—I mean—She’s. Very attractive. But.” She shakes her head as if clearing it. “I think there’s something she’s meant to teach me or lead me to. And I think that’s what Nina will do for Tyler. And maybe vice versa.”
She brings her all-knowing gaze back to mine. “Which means the next one’s yours.” Her smile is positively wicked. “Ooh. This is going to be fun!”
ChapterFive
LARK
“You sleepy Unca Lawk? You sleepy?”
A pudgy hand smacks my closed eye twice before I can roll onto my stomach.
“Mmmph.”
“You want patty-cake? Patty-cake wif siw-wup?”
I want to sleep for another hour. Or nine. As promised, I’ve covered diaper detail the last two weeks. Who knew Baby Lola saves her biggest loads for the two a.m. feeding? And the lungs on that girl? I’m sure Grayson never cried like that.
Then again, I never crashed on the couch when Grayson was a newborn.
“Mama make patty-cake.” Grayson continues smacking the back of my head. I have to hand it to him. He’s got rhythm.
I push up onto my elbows and peel one eye open.
Grayson laughs. “Unca Lawk a piwate.”
“Aargh.”
He shrieks and then dissolves into giggles.
“Grayson, don’t wake your sister,” Maggie scolds from the kitchen.
I peer over my shoulder with my pirate eye. My sister-in-law stands at the stove in the galley kitchen, a plate of buttered pancakes piling up beside her and a spatula in one hand.
“Any of those for me?” I ask, my voice thick with sleep.
Maggie shrugs. “That depends. I only feed Bienvenue men who are dressed for the day and seated at the table.”
I look back at Grayson, who's fully dressed in a striped shirt and little dude jeans.
“What’s the point of pancakes if you can’t eat them in your pajamas?” I ask him, but he just smiles a goofy smile. It’s extra goofy because of his candy-ass bowl haircut. I palm his head and mess up the stupid do.
“Hey, don’t do that. It’s picture day at his preschool,” Maggie gripes.
I peel open the other eye and share my shock with my nephew. “Well, he’s not gonna thank you for that,” I tell Maggie.
“For what?” She frowns over at me.
