I think something’s burning.”
“Oh, crud,” I exclaim, realizing too late that the iron is smoking. “I set it too high.” I remove the charred waffles with the tongs and step on the lever of the trash can to toss them away.
“Don’t burn our waffles!” Parker cries out passionately.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I tell him. “I got you covered.”
Julia has slipped away, leaving Maggie beating eggs beside me.
“What happened to you last night? I thought you were meeting us at the party you said we couldn’t miss.” I adjust the temperature before pouring more batter onto the heated waffle iron and sprinkling it with chocolate chips.
“You know how it goes on the island. Think you’re doing one thing and end up doing something else. I got swept away and lost track of time.”
“Who swept you away?” I ask, flashing her a knowing expression.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she answers with an innocent shrug of her shoulder and waggle of her brows.
I laugh, and take the boys their chocolate chip waffles.
“Where are you coming from right now?” I ask Maggie upon returning to the waffle iron to pour the next batch. “It doesn’t look like you’ve been home yet.”
“I haven’t. I slept at the cottage.”
My jaw tenses involuntarily. I try to hide it as I press the iron’s handle down.
She bumps me with her hip, laughing. “Don’t even get that weird look. You know I would never. He’s one hundred percent devoted to you.” She leans in and whispers, “Believe me, I’ve tried.” Then she pinches my butt when I blanche and proceeds to laugh hysterically. “You really do need to loosen up, Faye. You’ll give yourself a heart attack before you’re twenty.”
I force a smile, trying to laugh it off. She’s one of my closest friends. There’s no way she’d do that to me. And Kaden would never … but then I hear Damon’s voice, speaking of how it’s a guy’s nature to wander, and my stomach churns.
“What smells so good?” Olivia sings, entering the kitchen with her usual grace, not deterred by the ever-growing baby inside of her. Her skin glows, and her blue eyes twinkle.
“Mom! We’re eating chocolate for breakfast,” Parker declares like he’s getting away with something.
“Did you thank Faye for making you such a special breakfast?” she asks, kissing Parker on his chocolate-smudged cheek, followed by a kiss on top of Isaac’s head.
“Hey, I helped!” Maggie fake pouts. “I set you little dudes up with the chocolate chips, remember?”
“Thank you, Maggie. Thank you, Faye,” the boys chorus with their mouths full of waffle.
“What has Saint Faye done this time?” Cassandra asks, appearing from the far end of the house where she and her fiancé are staying.
I swallow the sour taste in my mouth, just thinking about the fact that someone wants to spend the rest of their life with her. I can hardly tolerate her for a weekend.
If anyone’s a saint, it’s Nick. The more I get to know him and see how horribly she treats him, the worse I feel for him.
Like Kaden said when we found out about the engagement, “What the hell was he thinking?”
“That’s sweet of you to cook,” Olivia says to Maggie, who beams back in return.
“Here to help.”
When Olivia returns to the table with a glass of orange juice, Maggie leans in and mutters so she’s not overheard, “Least I can do after swiping that bottle of vodka Friday night.” She winks at me.
I shake my head and chuckle.
“Speaking of helping,” Cassandra chimes in, “I want Niall to speak with Nick about his firm before we leave.”
“Nick’s still in law school—oh, good morning, Nick.” Olivia quickly corrects her annoyed tone with that of her signature pleasant one.
Nick stops short, recognizing that he’s walked in on a family squabble, as has happened a lot this weekend between the two sisters. And Nick has a way of fading into the background when it does.
“Good morning,” he answers. Having just showered, his chestnut-brown hair is wet and neatly parted to the side. “Uh, can I get anyone a coffee? I’m going into town.”
Apparently, the smell of coffee makes Cassandra ill, so anyone who wants one is forced to drink it outside of the house. And he chose this? When everyone declines, he disappears out the front door—something that he’s become notorious for. I’ve barely seen him the entire weekend. I wish I could say the same for his fiancée.
Maggie scrambles the eggs in the large skillet with a spatula. She lowers her voice and says,