more wherever that came from. I already knew that something felt different when I picked her up at the airport, but I chalked it up to my caveman brain again. She was in my house and in my bed, after all. But that didn’t explain how easily she fit here. I barely had to try to make her comfortable, and it didn’t seem like she had to force herself to feel at home—she just did. Every time I noticed that, I’d remind myself that it was just the insane amount of chemistry we have between us, but that’s getting harder and harder to believe. Especially now.
There’s more knocking at the door, and I’m almost grateful for the sound, along with my sister’s annoying persistence. Even so, when I make it downstairs and yank open the front door, I give Marissa a glare.
“I hate you.”
She’s dressed in cycling gear, and the hair around her temples is damp with sweat. She rolls her eyes and starts to shrug off the pack she has on her back, unzipping it as she shoves past me and heads toward the kitchen.
“I brought scones. Mixed berry and chocolate orange. Sage better not be some gluten-free diva, I can’t abide by that in a sister-in-law.”
Marissa digs out a plastic container from the backpack and tosses it on the kitchen island. She drops her pack onto the floor and then grabs a glass off the open shelving above my sink. As she fills the glass with water, I try to decide if her sister-in-law comment is worth wasting any words on. Probably not. Partly because I know she’s just screwing with me—but also because of what I was thinking about upstairs. I shuffle into the kitchen behind Marissa and take my french press out from a cabinet, then start a kettle of water on the stove.
“Definitely not a diva of any sort. And she’s an equal-opportunity food person from what I know.”
While the water heats, I open the scone container to grab one for myself. The scones were a good choice to bring as a peace offering since these would definitely make my top-five-favorites list when it comes to Marissa’s baked goods.
She finishes chugging her second glass of water as I eye her garb and the backpack. Aside from ruining my morning with this surprise attack, I’m also a little confused as to why she’s here. We already decided that Marissa, Sage, and I would fly up to Austin together on a helicopter charter, and the plan was to leave around five o’clock. The two of them would have a couple of hours together then, so even if Marissa is in some protective big-sister mode, this is a little overkill.
“You realize that you’re about eight hours too early, right? You and Sage were going to meet at the airport, which means you could have saved the flour for one of your other midnight baking escapades.”
She swallows the last of the water and shakes her head.
“Change in plans. I’m leaving with Mom and Dad on the jet. Dad and I have a lead on a potential trap in Arkansas, so we’re multitasking on the flight up there before it’s time to get into smile-and-shake-hands mode.” Marissa feigns gagging a little, then straightens up and shoots me a frank look. “For charity or not, tonight will be a nonstop nightmare of glad-handing and biting my tongue. After that kind of crap, I’ll need to lie down in my hotel room with all the lights off and not speak for about ten hours. This was the only time for me to make my assessment.”
“Your assessment?”
“Since you clearly didn’t take any of my advice about keeping this professional, yes, I now need to make an assessment of this Sage person.” She peeks toward the stairway in the foyer and lowers her voice. “Please tell me you have a plan on who to keep her away from tonight. There’s going to be a long list of wretched personalities at this thing.”
I shake my head. “Not necessary. Sage doesn’t need to be managed, and she’s not interested in being coddled. She can hold her own with just about anyone. A lot like, oh, I don’t know… you. And our mother. Sage is her own woman, trust me.”
Sage strolls in just as I finish and immediately looks Marissa in the eye.
“He’s right. You don’t have to worry about me. Although if Tate Marshall is there, I can’t be held responsible for my actions if he