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Kinley
“This is insanely good.” Aurora’s eyes fall closed as she savors a bite of the filet mignon Rowan prepared. A meal he’d intended for just the two of us transformed into “carry out” the moment his brother summoned him with a work problem. I shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but my eyes keep stealing side-glances at my phone screen. My last text has, so far, gone unanswered.
“Sogood. Melts in your mouth good,” Willow agrees. “Why didn’t you bring three home?”
“Youweren’t supposed to be here,” I direct to Willow.
Willow shrugs. “Mason had a last-minute flight. Maggs is helping out with some reality show and he had to take her to Aurora Springs for a producer meeting or something.” Willow’s eyes sparkle as she plunges her fork into another chunk of meat. “He’ll be back early in the morning.”
“What about your play?” I add.
“We’re ahead of schedule. Thought I’d give everyone the night off from rehearsals and spend some quality time with my sisters. You know, since Grandma Rose wanted us to bond and all that crap. Outside of the diner, we haven’t really hung out much since that spa day.”
“If we’re going to bond, we need wine,” Aurora announces, pushing back her chair.
I skip the steak and go straight for the tiramisu. Our sisterly relationship was strainedbeforeGrandma Rose pretended she was dying to summon the three of us home. We’d each gone our separate ways and failed to stay in touch. Sitting here with the two of them now, having a normal conversation for no reason at all, still feels odd. I swallow a bite of the near orgasm-inducing dessert and ask, “Where do you think she is right now?”
“Figi?” Willow guesses.
Aurora sets three wine glasses on the table and begins to pour. “I bet she’s in the Bahamas.”
“Greece,” I offer up.
“Wherever it is, I guarantee there’s a beach and bottomless drinks,” Willow says.
“Do you think she’s planning to elope?” Aurora asks.
The three of us ping pong glances between one another, all our eyes going wide for a few moments before we burst into laughter. Between the breakup with Anders, trying like hell not to run the diner into the ground, and the uncertainty of what’s happening between Rowan and me, I’ve been stressed the hell out. I welcome the aching in my abdominal muscles as we laugh and laugh. It’s several minutes later when the hysterical table slapping fades.
I swipe away tears from my cheeks and reach for the full wine glass in front of me. Though I’ve been known to have an occasional glass of wine—usually by myself, in the comfort of my own place—I can’t help but remember the way Rowan acted at the brewery when he caught me sipping a beer. The concerned look in his stormy eyes as he made himself a human shield. I never considered myself the type of girl who needed rescuing by anyone, much less a man. But with Rowan, the very memory of his protectiveness causes a quiver low in my belly.
Taking a sip of wine, I steal another glance at my phone.
“Expecting a booty call?” Willow sticks a fork in the last bite of filet mignon. Pity I won’t get to try it.
I pull my plate of tiramisu a little closer, circling an arm around it and dissolving any regrets with a pointed glance towards the empty steak container. “I’m not expecting any calls.”
“I thought we were done with the whole lying to each other thing,” Aurora pouts.
“She’s right,” Willow adds. “You might as well tell us what’s the deal with you and Rowan.”
I blame my persistent, nosy sisters for gulping half my sauvignon blanc in the next five seconds. The buzz I feel is almost instant thanks to my frighteningly low tolerance. It sends a warm current throughout my body, but it’s still mild in comparison to the way Rowan made me feel with his tongue dancing expertly between my legs.
“Have you two…slepttogether?” Willow guesses.
“What? No!” My objection is a little too sudden. An octave too high. It’s clear by the expressions on both their faces that neither of my sisters are buying my answer. “We haven’t gone…all the way. We’ve done…stuff.”
“Stuff?” Willow always did have a way with interrogation. Her unblinking eyes make me squirm in my seat. I think she missed her true calling as a detective.
I empty my wine glass and shove it toward Aurora for a refill. She pours with such elegance I can’t help but stare at her as though she’s grown two heads. “You go to bartending school or something overnight? You’re not spilling. Your hand’s not even shaking.”
“I’m good at this,” Aurora insists. “I’ve been trying to tell you—hey! I know what you’re doing. Don’t go changing the subject.” She slides a nearly full glass across the table. “What’s going on with you and Rowan? Thetruththis time.”
Gently twisting the stem of my glass between my thumb and forefinger, I search for the words to explain what I can’t seem to make any sense of myself. “I don’t know, exactly. He’s my best friend. Or at least he was until he—” I glance up and find both sisters staring at me expectantly. Oh hell. What does it matter anymore? It’s not like it’s some state secret. “Rowan kissed me.”
“We figured out that much,” Willow says with an eyeroll.
“Three years ago. At your almost-wedding.”Thatgrabs their full attention. After a sip of wine, I launch into the lengthy story, hardly taking a breath until I’ve told them everything that’s happened from that first toe-curling kiss to tonight’s special dinner at the diner.
