“I’m fine,” I grumbled, setting my glass on the counter and pushing it away. A little.
“Yeah, sure you are. Wanna try again? You’re not very convincing.”
“Who’s not convincing?” Gabriella asked as she floated into the kitchen.
“No one,” I replied, not wanting to get into it.
“Something’s up with Grace,” Georgia snitched.
“No there’s not,” I countered.
“Yeah. I’m calling bullshit,” Gabriella answered. Damn, I hated how in sync these two were. The curse of having twin sisters.
“What? Why?”
“Because you have your liar face on,” Gabriella declared.
“Liar face?”
“Grace,” Georgia started in her patronizing tone as she finished washing her hands and dried them on the towel. “We’re your sisters, and we love you, but you have the world’s worst poker face. Something’s up and you need to fess up. If Cole did something …”
“We’ll take care of it,” Gabriella finished, and I snorted. She made it sound like she’d have him taken out the back, shot, and buried without chipping a nail.
“Oh my god! You did not just say that.” Georgia gasped, shaking her head, picking up my glass, and taking a swig.
“What?” Gabriella shrugged.
I stood and pushed in the stool before picking up my phone and stuffing it in my pocket.
“Where are you going?” Georgia asked.
“The store. I need to get a few things for dinner.”
“You’re cooking?” The disbelief in Georgia’s voice annoyed me.
“I can cook, you know,” I reminded them. I may not run a B&B and have people leaving reviews raving about my amazing food, but I could put a meal on the table that wouldn’t poison anyone. At least, I was pretty sure I could. It’d been a while since I’d cooked for someone or had someone in my life I wanted to cook for.
Georgia opened her mouth to say something, but Gabriella clamped her hand over it, silencing her.
“What are you making?” Gabriella asked, always the peacemaker.
“Lasagna and salad. I’m pretty sure they don’t know there are more vegetables than potatoes,” I joked, grabbing my keys.
“They? Who else is there? I thought it was just Cole,” Georgia questioned curiously.
“Cole’s friend Zane is staying until he figures out his next move,” I explained.
“Next move?”
“He just got out of the army. He and Cole served together,” I told them, giving them enough details to satisfy but not oversharing Zane’s personal business.
“Seems like Wattle Creek is becoming the place for it,” Georgia commented.
“For what?” I asked confused.
“Resetting. Figuring it out. Taking a breath,” Gabriella offered, and I felt my back go ramrod straight.
She wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hear it either. I’d been home a while now and still no closer to workingout my next move, and seeing Ben’s name on my phone hadn’t helped.
