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“You sure you cooked this?”
Stone stretched in his chair at their kitchen table and looked at Carlos incredulously.
“I’ve been sharpening my skills.”
A sly smile graced Muriella’s lips when she exchanged glances with her brother. He’d come a long way from burnt French toast.
When his gaze landed on me, there was affection behind all that intensity. I looked away, unable to stand it. He was a vision of everything right in front of my eyes and yet so far out of reach.
And . . . I’d confessed to Mulaney that I hadn’t denied it when Easton had asked me if she and his father were having an affair. She’d taken the news far better than I’d thought she would, but she’d been quiet during dinner.
I wasn’t sure if that had to do with me, if she was just tired, or because she couldn’t get a word in edgewise with everyone else here.
“Are you gonna eat that?” Stone pointed at the barely touched food on my plate.
“I’m finished,” I said quietly.
He held out his hands, and Muriella appeared a cross between amused and appalled. “What?” he asked as I offered him the dish. “There’s nothing leftover, and I’m hungry. At least his version of cooking for three was enough for nine.”
I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. My stomach had been in a knot since I’d decided to tell Mulaney the truth. She’d accepted my apology. Offered me a position in the new company she and Easton had formed. But my guilt was like salt air on metal, eroding away at me.
“I hate to break up the party, but I’m beat.” Easton yawned, emphasizing the point.
“Don’t worry about waiting for me to finish my supper,” Stone said as he shoveled pot roast into his mouth.
“You did finish your supper,” Muriella said. “That’s Holly’s.”
Stone paused, made a face like he couldn’t believe he’d been called out, and continued eating. A frown line creased Carlos’s forehead and that penetrating gaze was impossible to read as he focused on me.
“I’m ready to go to bed too.” Mulaney stood and picked up her plate from the table.
“I’m trying to eat,” Stone complained. “And y’all aren’t gonna do all that stuff you were doing at Grandmama and Granddaddy’s.”
“What were you doing, Miss Jacobs?” Gabriel asked, his head cocked to the side.
Mulaney’s cheeks actually turned pink. “Uh, we were playing hopscotch.”
Stone smirked. “Is that what you call it?”
“I want to play,” Gabriel said brightly.
Easton squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll teach you how one day.”
Stone nodded in agreement, and I was pretty sure Daniel gave a chin flick in agreement. I swallowed hard. These people had taken my son under their wings, and even if he was too young to talk about the birds and the bees, the fact that they were planning on being in our lives long enough to commit to it . . . I’d never known what that was like. It was a better feeling than I imagined.
“Not until way down the road,” I said when I found my voice.
“How come?”
“Why don’t we start the dishes?” Carlos suggested, effectively saving me from having to answer.
Gabriel popped up, eager to help. “Okay.”
I stood and hurried to catch up with Mulaney and Easton. “Mr. Carter.” He turned, his expression concerned. I’d done the unforgivable to this man, yet he treated my son as his own. I wouldn’t make the same mistake. “May I speak with you?”
“We can talk in the living room.”
I followed him and Mulaney, who sat on the sofa and waited while I decided if I wanted to sit or stand. Laughter floated into the room from the kitchen. This was family. What I’d wanted my whole life. And I’d risked it for my fear. I was so tired of living scared.
