I’ve poured a generous glass.
From the boisterous conversation trickling in from the great room, I take that it’s been a bit since Cage has been home. Which is good, they’re occupied, and it gives me a reason to get a little fancy. After a little digging through the fridge, I get bread baking and julienne some green beans. As I fry up some bacon on the stove, I try to imagine Evie coming up behind Brody. If something like that happened to me, I would’ve died, and I certainly would never show my face around here again. Evie seems like a pretty amazing woman. Given time, I bet we’d make great friends.
While I asked Abbie to help with the salad, she abandoned me. She’s having fun with all three of her boys in the other room. Cage is telling some tall tale about his last assignment as I finish my first glass of wine. Bits and pieces of their conversation drift to my ears. They’re a tight-knit family, warm and loving.
Evie comes in while I’m pouring my second glass.
“You want some?” I pull out a wineglass before she answers.
“Which bottle did you pick?” She sits across the kitchen island and leans on her elbows while I pour her a glass.
“The first one I saw?” I give a soft laugh. “I’m usually much more of a connoisseur, but I saw the bottle in the fridge and figured a glass, or two, couldn’t hurt.” I slide her glass across the counter and lift mine. “To boisterous boys?”
“To the Trips! And to new friends.” She lifts her glass and toasts me. She surveys the kitchen and her eyes widen as she takes in everything I have going on. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“The kitchen? It’s practically spotless.”
“I clean as I go.”
“Well, I’d like to apologize for putting you to work, but it looks like you’re creating a culinary masterpiece, so I’m going to be totally selfish and sit here and watch. I’ll do the dishes afterward.”
“I don’t know about a culinary masterpiece. I picked something simple.”
“Well, your simple smells delicious.” She sniffs the air and tilts her head back. “Can I hire you out?”
“I wish. I love to cook, but I don’t get much of a chance these days.”
“Why’s that?”
“Running a failing family business and my mom barely eats anymore. The chemo destroyed her taste buds and her appetite isn’t there.”
“I’m really sorry about your mom. Asher mentioned she was sick, and of course, Abbie filled me in on the rest. Not that we’ve been talking behind your back or anything, but…”
“No, I get it. You’re curious about the girl Brody brought home.”
“Evidently, you’re the first.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“No, it’s the truth. Asher and Abbie both mentioned it.”
“I meant it more as Brody and I really aren’t a thing. His company is investing in mine. This is more of a business thing. We’re not dating.”
“You sure about that?” Evie makes a sweeping gesture around the kitchen. “Does Brody know that, because bringing you to his house for dinner is a big deal? Like huge.” She stretches her arms out wide for emphasis.
“I thought this was Asher’s house?”
“It’s the Trips house.” She winks at me. “I like that word. But really, Asher may live here, but Brody and Cage consider it home. I think it’ll always be home base for the three of them.”
“Are you okay with that? After you’re married, won’t that be intrusive? Having them here all the time?” I take a sip of wine and let the citrusy flavors coat my tongue. “This is really good.”
“It’s one of their award-winning vintages.”
“Was I not supposed to open the wine?” A pang of guilt runs through me.
“Grace, you made us dinner. I think a bottle of wine, or two, is more than fair compensation. And as for the Trips bothering me, it never really occurred to me. Those three are tight. Like freakishly tight. They call it the triplet curse; I call it supernatural. I envision a very crowded house in my future with lots of nieces and nephews running around and new sisters to commiserate with. If you’re thinking about joining this family on a permanent basis, be forewarned. That’s not even a tenth of how boisterous it can get.” She points toward the great room where Brody, Asher, and Cage practically shout at the top of their lungs.
The look she gives me makes me feel funny inside, like I’m supposed to be one of those new sisters. But I’m