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Seconds later, Nick, Graham, and Diana were in the kitchen—and Honor and Charity were all smiles. Not only did Graham have an incredible bouquet of flowers, Diana carried a pastry box loaded with the kids’ favorites and some fresh croissants.
“We’re crashing breakfast,” Diana said, offering the pastries to Honor.
Graham looked like hell. Like he hadn’t slept for a week and was on autopilot. When those light brown eyes met hers, he shied away. “Always room at the table,” she answered, accepting Diana’s hug. He was here, looking like that—she wasn’t about to turn them away. If anything, she felt bad. They had no idea what this morning’s topic of conversation would be.
“You look rough, Graham.” Charity frowned. “Long nights in the delivery room?”
She saw the way Diana glanced at her father, the slight defiant tilt of her head, and instantly understood. Diana was the reason he’d canceled. From the looks of it, she’d put him through the wringer. Her heart hurt for them.
“Kids. The ultimate adventure,” he answered, his smile exhausted.
The oven timer dinged, and a flurry of activity followed. Felicity moved the orange sticky rolls to a platter while Honor and Diana loaded the pastries onto a tiered cupcake plate—Nick stole an apple fritter and dodged his sister’s playful swat, laughing. Charity made a fresh pot of coffee for their father. Poor Graham sort of propped himself against the counter, watching the easy chaos with red-rimmed eyes.
She poured him a cup of coffee and pressed the mug into his hands. “Black, right?”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
She gave his hand a pat. “I’m here, you know,” she murmured. “If you need to talk?”
He nodded, those soft-brown eyes sweeping her face before he focused on his coffee. “I’d like that. Not now, of course.” His fingers tightened around the mug. “Sorry we invaded.”
“You’re always welcome.” She paused, fighting the urge to smooth his tousled hair. Graham Murphy needed a hug. And she ached to give him one.
He tore his gaze from her, turning to watch Diana, his jaw muscle working.
“Thank you for the flowers.”
“I felt bad about canceling. It wasn’t by choice.” Which was oh so sweet to hear. “Maybe we can try again?” He smiled. He should smile more often.
She nodded. A
bsolutely not thinking about the silky thing. Or his reaction to the silky thing. Stop thinking about it. And him. Now. “Thanks for the donuts.”
“They were Di’s idea.” He shook his head, watching as Nick shoved an entire donut into his mouth.
“And there won’t be any left if Nick keeps eating them,” Charity interrupted them. “At least save me one. A chocolate one.”
Nick held the tiered tray up. “I don’t know, Aunt Charity. You said you wanted to start eating better. Chocolate donuts?”
Charity pouted, instantly deflating.
“One isn’t bad.” Diana jumped to Charity’s defense. “They’re fresh donuts. Technically better than packaged ones. So, you know, better for her.”
“Good one.” Felicity laughed. “Give her a donut, Nickie.”
Once her parents arrived, the volume kicked up—as did the chaos. Her mother had a gift for turning even a simple conversation into a production. Felicity didn’t mind. She knew the laughter wasn’t going to last once she found the courage to do what needed to be done.
“Jack’s doing better,” she started. “He’ll be able to leave the hospital tomorrow.”
“Man, it’s got to suck for him.” Diana served herself more breakfast casserole as she spoke. “No mom and no dad. Being in that cast.”
“He’s frustrated,” her father agreed. “And, for a little guy, he’s developed a pretty good aim to help pass the time.”
“If it’s not bolted down, it’s airborne,” her mother agreed, glancing her way.
Nick sighed loudly and slumped back in his chair.
“They found someone to take him?” Honor asked, blue eyes concerned.
