“The writer. Have you seen her?”
He nodded. “She’s terribly reclusive, but she has nine children who are anything but.”
“Do you know them?”
He smiled. “Yep. You’ll like them. A few of them will probably be here today.”
Sophie’s steps faltered. She didn’t belong here. But this was Jamison’s family. She couldn’t keep him away from them. It wouldn’t be fair to him or them. But what if one day Jamison chose them over her? She shook herself, knowing that he would never have to make such a choice.
But what if he did?
She tripped over a rock. Luke’s hand shot out to grab her elbow and steady her.
“You okay?”
That was a very good question. Heat radiated from his hand and sent tingles up her arm. She pulled away from him. “It’s the shoes,” she told him. Although it really wasn’t. In her law office, she’d worn these shoes all day, every day. Her feet were practically as accustomed to them as they were to her toenails.
Aunt Lola lived in a soft gray clapperboard house with white trim. A few twisted Monterrey pines dotted the property. In the spring, there would probably be a carpet of California poppies covering the lawn. But now, the November sky matched the color of the house and the long stretch of ocean beyond it. Smoke curled from the brick chimney.
“You should see this place at Christmastime,” Luke said. “Uncle Theo strings lights everywhere.”
“Is that Lola’s husband?”
He nodded. “I know what you’re thinking—he’s too old to be climbing up ladders—but…” His words died mid-sentence when the front door flew open and his little sister, Mia, flung herself at Luke before catching sight of Jamison in his arms. She pulled herself to a halt inches in front of him and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. A stunning blonde Sophie didn’t recognize trailed behind. She also kissed Luke on the cheek, but took a longer time to do it than his sister.
“Luke!” Mia whisper-yelled.
“Mia, why aren’t you in school?” Concern wrinkled Luke’s brow.
Mia shot a conspiratorial look at her friend. “We came down for the weekend. Paige drove. You didn’t think I’d miss Aunt Lola’s birthday, did you?”
“Or the chance to see you?” Paige added.
Mia’s gaze flicked over Sophie. “Oh hi, Sophie. How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“You must have come with Jamie. I wish I was closer so I could help more.”
“We’re doing fine,” Sophie told her.
Mia wrinkled her nose. “But it’ll be better now that Luke’s home.”
Paige gave Sophie a cold, assessing glance. “You must be Chloe’s sister. Funny, you look nothing like her.”
“You met Chloe?”
Paige nodded. “A few times.”
Mia linked her arm through Paige’s and gave her friend a squeeze. “Paige is a long-time friend.” Mia winked at Luke. “She’s practically family.”
They climbed the stairs to the front porch. Luke held open the door for Mia, Paige, and Sophie. A crowd of people filled the living room. Platters of cut-up fruit, vegetables, finger sandwiches, and a giant birthday cake sat on the dining room table. A sparking fire cast a warm glow over the room.
Aunt Lola, whom Sophie dimly remembered meeting at the funeral through her grief-induced haze, sat in a wingback chair beside the fireplace. Dressed head to toe in black, she looked like a gray-headed spider. She held out her arms as soon as she spotted Luke. “Give me that poor orphaned baby.”
Sophie bit back her objection, wanting to say that Jamison was sleeping and would for sure be cranky when he woke, as Luke eased Jamison off his shoulder and handed him to Lola.
Jamison woke with a start, caught sight of Lola’s long gray hair and wizened face and let out a howl. He reached his pudgy arms for Sophie. Sophie moved to his rescue but Lola was faster. She snatched the baby and plunked him in her lap.
