“Morning, kids,” she says with a big smile, walking right past us to the kitchen.
Quinn laughs and points. “Oh, sounds like someone?—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” I whisper-shout as Natalie slaps my arms with laughter.
Quinn rolls her eyes and goes up to her room.
“You do know they’re both grown women, right?” Natalie asks, pulling the blanket we’d been using to her chin and leaning against my shoulder.
“I do. It doesn't make me worry about them any less.”
“Mm,” she hums, “You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?”
I lean down to kiss the top of her head.
“I am.”
But clearly not enough to take a chance on.
* * *
“I expect the two of you to be at the bake-off later. I reserved a table for you,” Grandma Betty says as I come down the stairs fresh from my shower. Natalie is sitting at the table in a long dusty pink skirt and a black top cropped at the waist.
She’s trying to kill me, isn’t she?
Her hair is pulled into a loose bun as she listens to my grandmother give us orders.
“I also expect you two to actually sleep in a bed tonight. That couch will destroy your back in the blink of an eye.”
“We’ll be sure to sleep in the bed tonight,” I assure her, finally pulling my gaze off Nat to pour myself a glass of water.
“It starts at one.” Grandma Betty points her finger at me. “I expect lots of baked goods when I get home tomorrow morning.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Calm down, sweetheart. I’m just staying with Mike until you kids go home, and do not take that as any hint that I want you to leave earlier than planned.”
She hugs me, and as much as I want to grumble again about this Mike thing, I can see he makes her happy, and she deserves it.
“We won’t, and lots of baked goods you shall have.”
“Edible ones,” she adds quickly, making Natalie laugh and again causing me to focus only on her.
I want to walk over there and kiss her and tell her how beautiful she is, but I’m not sure how much would be too much.
“I’ll be back later,” Grandma Betty says, heading down the hall and out the front door.
I peek through the doorway for Quinn.
“Your sister is meeting friends for lunch,” Natalie says.
She crosses her legs, her flowing skirt shifting, revealing a sliver of her legs.
I steal my glance from them to look her in the eyes. “You look beautiful today.”
She bites her lip. “Thank you.”
Then we just stare at each other; the tension between us is just begging to be broken.
