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“What?” I asked quietly.

His gaze stayed warm. “Nothing.” I remembered how often I had used that answer around him during the first few days because the truth would have involved explaining exactly what his hands, shoulders, mouth, or presence were doing to my concentration.

I leaned closer until my shoulder rested against his.

“You’re terrible at nothing.”

“That seems like a compliment.”

His smile was private enough that heat moved pleasantly through me despite the crowded table. I left my shoulder against his and turned back toward the room.

“It depends on context.”

Dessert required everyone to relocate because there was no room left in front of us for pie plates.

The gathering loosened into smaller groups. Earl helped Rex clear dinner plates. Annette wrapped leftovers with the brisk efficiency of someone who considered wasted refrigerator space a personal offense. Piper followed me into the kitchen and asked where I kept containers without pretending she couldn’t find them herself once I pointed out the cabinet.

I started to take a stack of plates from Earl.

He moved them out of reach.

“I drove a truck for forty years. I can carry six plates thirty feet.”

“I wasn’t questioning your qualifications.”

He shifted the stack higher against his chest before I could reach for it again.

“You had your hands out.”

He continued toward the sink while I laughed.

Behind him, Annette closed one container and looked at me. “Sit down for five minutes before dessert.”

The instruction might have irritated me from someone else.

From Annette, while she stood in my kitchen with her sleeves rolled up and her husband doing dishes beside Rex, it felt different.

I poured coffee instead.

That was as close to sitting as anyone was going to get from me while there was pie to cut.

Piper joined me at the counter to arrange dessert plates. Up close, the vivid red of her hair looked almost copper beneath the kitchen lights.

“Gavin said you were a restaurant manager,” she said, watching me divide the apple dessert. “He did not adequately explain what that meant.”

“That sounds like Gavin. He spent most of our childhood describing my activities as bossing people around.”

Piper slid the next dessert plate toward me and reached for another, smiling as she settled into the job beside me.

“He still does that.”

“I’m sure he does.”

She hesitated before reaching for another plate.

“I’m glad he has you again.”

The words were quiet enough that the sounds from the sink nearly covered them.