I purse my lips, cutting my narrowed eyes at my brother as I flip his sandwich from the pan onto an empty plate. “I’m the only sister you have.”
“You know what I mean,” he laughs, shrugging his shoulders as he takes his plate and the one I had already made for Noah. “I’m going to take this out to Noah, if you want to eat at the fire?”
“Sure,” I say, nodding my head as I grab a stack of two buttered slices of bread with cheese and ham in the center and drop it into the pan. “I made tomato soup, too.”
“I’ll come back in for it,” he says as he heads to the door. “Oh, yeah. Can you make an extra? Jace just pulled up.”
My breath hitches and I freeze, although I shouldn’t be surprised. With how close of friends they are, it was only a matter of time before he showed up here. Turning sideways, I look over at my brother pushing on the screen door with his shoulder. “Do you know how he likes his grilled cheese?”
“Probably with ham,” he offers, holding open the door as Noah slips past, carrying his guitar. Noah’s been playing guitar since we were kids and it has become our source of entertainment at the fire. “Jace, how do you like your grilled cheese?” Finn calls out as he steps onto the front porch.
“Can you take the soup out?” I ask Noah as he strides over to the sink. He lifts his ball cap from his head, turning it backwards as he pushes up his sleeves and flips on the faucet. “We can put it in a thermos and pour it into bowls out by the fire.”
“Good idea,” Noah says as he works the soap into a lather before he pushes his hands back under the stream. The smell of a hint of burning toast assaults my nose. I hurriedly flip the sandwich. The edges are almost black, which is exactly how I like it.
“Jace said you know what he likes,” Finn chimes in, ducking his head back through the door before he backs away and lets it slam shut.
My eyes widen slightly and I stare down at the pan in front of me for a beat. “This is the last of the ham and it’s a little burnt around the edge.”
Noah turns off the faucet and grabs a towel to dry his hands. He lifts his shoulders and his eyebrows simultaneously when I look over at him. “Jace isn’t picky. He’d probably eat the whole thing burnt.” Noah reaches into the cabinet to grab a thermos and twists off the lid.
“So, I should just give it to him?” I ask my brother as I remove the grilled cheese from the pan and set it down on another plate.
Noah pours the soup into the container and grabs four small bowls before taking the plate from me. He lifts it to inspect the sandwich. “It looks fine to me.”
“Can you take it out to him?”
“Yep,” Noah says with ease as he slides the stack of bowls beneath the plate in one hand and holds the thermos with his other. I grab two more pieces of bread and spread some butter on one side of each before dropping it onto the pan with a slice of cheese in between.
The hinges on the front screen door groan. “It smells good in here.”
My spine straightens at the sound of his voice.
“Shit, Noah, let me help you.”
Noah chuckles and my head whips to the side. He’s about to lose the plate and the grilled cheese on the floor. “I thought I could get it all.”
“Yeah, of course,” Jace says, taking the plate from him as I flip my sandwich over, noting the perfectly burnt perimeter of the bread. Jace steps up beside me, his firm shoulder brushing against mine as he leans over the stove. My stomach tumbles as his warmth seeps through the fabric covering my bicep while he inspects my work. “You still like them like that?”
“Yes,” I say over the groan of the screen door as Noah exits through it. “I didn’t know you were coming, so yours is a little burnt too.”
“I don’t mind,” he says softly as he takes a step back, turning to face me as I turn off the stove and move the pan to a cold burner. The spatula slides under my grilled cheese with ease and I set it on my plate. Warmth creeps up my neck and the side of my face from his attention still on me as I find a knife and cut the sandwich diagonally. “Yours doesn’t have any ham on it.”
I turn to look at him. “What?”
“You like ham on your grilled cheese.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, a soft laugh slipping from me as I shake my head dismissively.He remembers that?“We ran out, but it’s fine.”
Jace looks down at his and a frown tugs his lips downward as he tilts it to the side. He sets his plate down next to mine and grabs the knife. My eyes are on his hands. His tendons flex, the veins protruding through his skin as he cuts through his sandwich.
His gaze meets mine as he takes half and sets it on my plate before he takes half of the plain grilled cheese and sets it on his. “There,” he says, his dimples making an appearance as a slow smile creeps across his lips. “You get half and I get half.”
“Oh, wow,” I chuckle, lifting the plate as I smile back at him. “Look at how far you’ve come. I remember a time where your ‘only child syndrome’ was strong and you refused to share with anyone.”
“That’s not true.” Jace flattens his lips. “I always shared with you.” His expression softens and a warm smile drifts across his lips.
“You’re right,” I say softly, pulling the inside of my cheek between my teeth as I look down at the two halves of the grilled cheese and back to meet his green eyes. “Thanks, Jace.”
