Page 55 of Forbid It

“Hi.” Gwen waves from her perch on a stool by the kitchen counter.

“Hiya,” Dad says, barely peeling his eyes away from the football replay on the TV mounted to the wall.

Mum gestures to the counter next to Gwen. “Come sit down, flower.”

Cassie hovers behind me until I rest my hand on her back and nudge her forward. My fingers traced the exposed skin on her back, and I want to hook them in her waistband and keep her by my side.

I set the pump on the counter and head for the coffee machine.

Gwen tugs the plate of pastries closer to Cassie. “Fresh from Tesco. Help yourself.”

Cassie grins as she grabs a pain au chocolat and bites into it. I’ve noticed that when Cassie takes the first bite of something, her eyes roll slightly like she’s savoring the moment. Food isn’t a necessity for her, it’s an experience every time.

“So, what are your plans?” Mum asks, leaning her forearms on the counter. “Are you going to Hiraeth Farm?”

“What’s that?” Cassie asks, tearing apart her croissant.

“It’s a big recording studio near Monmouth,” Gwen tells her. “Iwan’s friends with the guy who runs it.”

“It’s a lovely place, right on the mountain. Apparently, loads of musicians record there.” Mom waves her hand. “They don’t call Wales the ‘Land of Song’ for no reason.”

Cassie takes a big bite, presumably to avoid answering the question.

I lean back against the wall and cross my arms, rubbing my face with a hand. “We’re just going to hang out around here, I guess.”

“Well, Fi wants to go to the beach, so we’re probably going to drag her Grandad down there in a bit.” Mum turns to Cassie, conspiratorially. “Grandad hates the beach.”

“I don’t hate the beach, Sian,” Dad huffs. “I hate the sand and the children screaming and running in front of me.”

“Children do that, Arthur,” Gwen cuts in wily, sending Cassie an eye roll.

“Where are the children?” The coffee machine bleeps and I set a fresh cup in front of Cassie, resting my hand on her spine again. Why does it keep doing that? I fist my hand and bury it in the crook of my elbow.

The kitchen door slides open, and Iwan pokes his head in. “Okay we’re officially in dire need of that pump. Clumsy over here stomped on it instead of kicking it.”

“I didn’t stomp, Dad,” Ffion protests, following her dad through the door. “Sammy didn’t move in time for me to kick it.” She fists her hands on her hips, looking as fiery as her mother is known to be. “It’s not my fault football is a stupid game.”

“Hey!” We all protest.

“When can we go to—” I’m watching as she looks to her mother and finally spots the woman sitting next to her.

Ffion eyes widen like she’s just seen her idol in her grandmother’s kitchen…which she has.

Cassie swivels in her seat, giving my niece her full attention. “Hi Ffion.” She waves.

I bite my cheek to hide my grin as Ffion freezes in place, her cheeks turning so red I’m almost worried she’ll pass out.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cassie says.

Ffion unglues her feet from the floor and sprints out of the room.

Gwen wipes her hands free of croissant crumbs with a laugh. “I think that’s about the reaction I was expecting.”

Cassie chuckles. “I’m used to it, don’t worry.”

“I’ll go get her.” Gwen slides off the stool and follows her daughter.

“So.” Iwan takes the vacated seat. “Cassandra, is it? Or Cassie? Robbie’s told us so much about you.”