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He nods, and without thought, he kisses me lightly on the cheek. The gesture is purely platonic, but my heart, the traitorous bastard, does a tiny backflip in glee. “Thanks. I won’t be long.” I don’t have time to say another word because Sam heads toward the bathroom, whistling a tune, none the wiser.
My finger and head are now throbbing. At least I know the reason for one.
“Do you have a tray I can put all this meat on? Lucy?” I can only imagine what Saxon thinks when he sees me standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring vacantly into thin air. “You’re bleeding.” He sprints over, taking my injured hand into his—just as Sam did moments ago.
“I’m okay. I just cut my thumb. All good. The bleeding has stopped.” I remove the bandage to show him the proof. The concern behind his blue gray orbs touches me so, and I immediately stop this insanity.
Saxon is the man I love. The person I want to be with. I have no doubt in my mind of that. So why do these mini bouts of psychosis always seem to occur with Sam? I thought I had it figured out, but it seems to be getting worse, and I don’t like it.
When he presses his lips to the cut to kiss it better, I’m beyond touched. “Thank you. You’re too good to me.”
“That’s impossible.” Saxon will always hold me high on his pedestal, and I’ve never felt more undeserving than I do now.
Desperate to change the subject, I hunt through the plastic bags to retrieve the aluminum trays I bought from the store. “Here you go. Luckily, I came prepared.”
He smirks, the sight too perfect for words. “Piper is setting the table. Want me to bring anything out to her?”
With the change of seasons, we can no longer enjoy the hot summer nights, but it’s still nice out, so we’ve decided to eat outside. “It’s okay. I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just finishing the salad.”
He nods, kissing me gently on the forehead. He seems at peace, and I know that has to do with what transpired between him and Sam. I haven’t had a chance to ask him what happened, but it doesn’t take a genius to see both brothers’ spirits are lifted.
“I love you,” Saxon says on the way out the door.
“I love you too,” I whisper, but he’s already gone.
Concentrating on finishing dinner, I gather everything I need, refusing to ruin the night. Once I’ve finished the salad, I carry it, the potato salad, and the coleslaw outside. As I reach to gain my footing on the stairs, Piper runs to my rescue, laughing.
“As usual, there is way too much food, and I love it.”
Her happiness is exactly the distraction I need. “This isn’t even half of it.”
Saxon is standing over the grill, sipping a beer as he watches the meat cook. I can’t help but smile when I see my veggie burgers and sausages are cooking in their own separate area.
“Oh, god, get a room,” Pipers says, tongue in cheek. Her playfulness is welcomed.
As we’re placing the trays on the table, she leans over to me and whispers, “Why are Sam and Saxon suddenly BFFs? I was expecting a bloodbath. I’m kinda disappointed.”
I laugh. “Sam wants to make amends with Saxon. He too wants to move on.”
“And this has nothing to do with you?” The lawn almost ends up wearing the salad.
Once I steady my hands, I shake my head. “No, of course not. Why would it?”
“Because Saxon would do anything to make you happy, and it’s obvious you can’t cut Sam from your life completely, so I think this newfound reconciliation has everything to do with you.” So much for her heartfelt speech the other night.
“I think you’ve read one too many conspiracy books,” I counter, hoping to take the pressure off. I refuse to believe that’s true. Between listening to her and my mom, I need a nap.
“I could eat a horse.” My insides coil in revolt when I see Alicia on my back porch in a pink bikini top and shorts. “No offense, Lucy.”
“None taken, Alicia,” I reply, wanting to stab myself with a plastic fork.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I let myself in,” she explains, thundering down the stairs.
“Not at all. Sam is in the shower. He should be out in a minute.”
“Oh, I know. I saw,” she replies, sauntering over to the table with a grin.
That is so disgusting on all accounts, but I ignore the need to guzzle the bottle of red Piper set on the table. “I’ll just grab the rest of the food.” I brush past her, hoping to burn the image of her peeping Tom escapades from my brain.
