Oh, I thought.That’s why you’re here.
I almost smiled. Almost let myself enjoy the fact that this—me—was enough to rattle him.
“Good news,” came a voice from the side, cool as shade. “She’s not going to be hurt by you ever again.”
Cara stepped into view like she’d been summoned, expression pleasant and lethal all at once.
“But,” she continued, “she might get very dramatic anyway. And so will we.”
Relief washed through me, sharp and sudden. Not because I needed saving—but because I wasn’t standing alone. I hadn’t been for a while now. I just hadn’t fully trusted it yet.
Graham’s smile faltered.
And for the first time, I didn’t feel small across from him.
“You know who really gets dramatic when they’re hurt?” Cara continued. “Men. So dramatic the lot of you,” She shot Graham asharp look, then let her gaze flick down just enough. “Funny how those big egos usually cover… other deficiencies.”
She stood just to the side of the porch, arms crossed over a navy peacoat, expression politely lethal. Beside her, Lucy’s cheeks were pink, and her eyes were bright and furious in a way that would terrify any sensible person.
“We were dropping off books,” Lucy said, too pleasantly, “but I guess we can stay and find out exactly what the hell is going on here.”
Graham straightened. “Ladies. Good to see you both. You look well. Nothing is going on, right, Eliza?”
“Everything is fine,” I confirmed.
“Mm,” Cara muttered, clearly trying not to say anything else.
A man entered the walk-up line—Mr. Hawkins, who taught woodshop at the high school, cleared his throat. “Is this line for coffee or a show? I’ll take either.”
“Coffee,” I said, moving to make his usual order. “A show will cost you extra.”
I made his usual and slid it across the sill, heart thudding a steady, furious beat I kept under my ribs. Graham watched me like he was judging the air I breathed.
“You don’t have to explain anything, Eliza,” he murmured. “Least of all to them. Remember our agreement?”
“I don’t have to explain myself? To my sisters? Funny,” I said. “That’s what I was thinking about you. I don’t owe you anything, least of all an explanation for what I choose to do with my life.”
His smile thinned. “I guess we’ll see what the town thinks at the Taste-Off.”
“I look forward to it,” I said brightly, which was Eliza forbring it, you condescending dillweed.
He tipped two fingers off his brow in a mock salute and turned away, footsteps crisp. The porch felt larger when he left, like someone had cracked a window.
I let out a breath.
“I’m just glad Piper and Paige didn’t hear that,” I said, forcing a laugh. “They’d be?—”
“Enraged?” Piper’s high-pitched, pissed off voice floated up from the far end of the cabin, and my stomach did a flip. She and Paige rounded the corner together. “We needed coffee, instead we walk in on some kind of intimidation scene?”
Paige planted her hands on her hips. “He was out of line. Beyond. No one gets to talk to you like that. Like, what the hell? Who does he think he is? I have half a mind to follow him to his dumbass, fancy pants restaurant and kick his stupid ass.” She stepped off the porch muttering, “Maybe I will?—”
Piper grabbed her arm. “No.” Paige shot her a look. “Okay, fine. Maybe later. After we find out what’s happening here.” They stepped back up and joined Cara and Lucy at the window.
Cara’s mouth curved into a snarl. “I believe the legal term for men like him isgaslighting garbage person.Is he mad about you entering the Taste-Off? That makes no sense.”
“Were you with him?” Paige asked knowingly. “Personally? Professionally? Both?”
“He’s just—um…”
