Page 87 of Secret Paths

“Breakfast is too domestic.”

“And dinner was what?”

“A nutritional error.”

“Delicious nutritional error.”

“Still under review.”

I dip my head and kiss the corner of her mouth. “I am very committed to your recovery.”

“You had better be.”

She reaches up, hooks a hand into my shirt and pulls me down.

The kiss starts with laughter still caught between us, but it does not stay there. Mandy opens her mouth beneath mine, and the room seems to tighten around the sound she makes when my hand slides to her waist. Morning light filters through the curtains. The house is quiet. Her bed is warm beneath us.

No hurry.

Then the doorbell rings.

We both freeze.

Mandy pulls back first. “No.”

The bell rings again.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Her eyes narrow. “Do not find this funny.”

“I am not.”

“You are smiling.”

“It is a stress response.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

Her phone starts buzzing on the bedside table.

We both look at it.

Alexandra.

My smile disappears.

Mandy closes her eyes. “Absolutely not.”

The phone stops.

For three seconds, there is silence.

Then it starts again.

Mandy snatches it up and looks at the screen as if she can diagnose it with something fatal. She does not answer.

Through the window, faint but clear, my sister’s voice carries up from the path.