Page 70 of Fall is Brewing

...to Willa...

...to the oversized sweatshirt unmistakably hanging off her shoulders.

His grin grows so wide it should probably be illegal.

"Oh," he says slowly. "Oh, this is interesting."

I close my eyes. “Now you see why I lock my doors,” I say to Willa.

She laughs, covering her smile with the sleeve that's currently swallowing half her hand.

"I heard that," Jace says.

"Good. I said it loud enough.”

Evan steps around our brother and I realize they’re both dry. They must have changed at Jace’s barn loft.

“Millie’s okay over at the tasting room?” I ask him.

Evan nods. “Yeah, she’s good over there. The only folks in there are the ones who ran in from the orchard before the rain came. Probably won’t get too many walk-ins tonight with this weather.” His eyes drift to the pot simmering on the stove. “Are we, uh, still on for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah," I answer and head to the fridge to pull out the chicken I had prepped this morning. “This needs to roast for about an hour.”

"Perfect." Jace claps his hands together once before turning to Willa like the thought has only just occurred to him. "You should stay."

Her smile falters. “Stay for…”

“Family dinner night,” Jace says. “It’s Brooks’ turn to cook.”

"Oh, I don't think I shou⁠—"

"It's pouring," Jace interrupts, gesturing toward the windows where rain continues to race down the glass in shimmering ribbons. "You've already showered. You're already wearing Brooks' clothes." He shrugs. "Feels silly to stop being our guest now."

"I wasn't really a guest," she says. “Brooks was just nice enough to let me dry my clothes⁠—”

"Well you’re a guest now," Evan says simply.

“Besides,” Jace chimes in, “Are those clothes dry yet?”

“Um… no, but…” She looks at me then, almost asking permission.

I shrug, trying to sound far more casual than I feel. “You’re welcome to stay. It’s not a fancy dinner. Roast chicken, potatoes and broccoli, but we’d love to have you.”

Another roll of thunder rattles the windows.

Willa glances outside, then back at the three of us. Finally, she lets out a small laugh and shakes her head.

"I suppose one drumstick isn't going to destroy the rivalry."

Jace pumps a fist. “That’s the spirit!”

Before I can overthink anything, I grab a mug from the cabinet and pour cider from the pot warming on the stove and hand it to her.

"Thanks,” she gives me a shy smile and tucks her wet hair behind her ear with her free hand.

"Hey," Jace says immediately, stepping closer. "Where's mine?"

Evan leans against the counter, already reaching for another mug. "Yeah, don't play favorites."