“I was hungrier than I realized. Of course, go home. You stayed way too late as it is. Take your time coming in tomorrow.”
“I’m fine, ma’am.” June pinched her lips together, clearlyfighting a smile. “Enjoy your dinner. And you should take your own advice. Go home and get some sleep. You’ve had a long day.”
Bronwyn chewed, swallowed, and waited before she took the next bite. “I will. Meredith’s coming in a few minutes, then we’ll head to my house to talk all things decorating.”
“That sounds fun, but don’t stay up too late.”
“Yes, Mom.”
June made a face, then laughed. “See you tomorrow.” She closed the door behind her, and Bronwyn took five more bites before she slowed enough to truly taste the food. The ache in her stomach eased, but with the surcease came awareness of other small miseries. Her head hurt. Her eyes burned.
Exhaustion was winning.
And if the unknown Quinn cousin hadn’t sent her food, she would have settled for some yogurt and a few berries before she crashed.
This had been the longest week ever. How was it only Tuesday night? She took another bite. The pasta deserved to be savored, but right now, her body refused to do anything more than consume the needed calories. She ate with single-minded focus for several minutes, and the bowl still looked full. Cassie must have assumed she hadn’t eaten for three days, not just one. She’d sent enough to feed her for a week.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and saw a text from Meredith.
I’m inside the gates. Sorry I’m so late.
Bronwyn gathered her things, including the pasta bowl because she wasn’t done and there was no way she was leaving it behind, and walked outside to meet Meredith.
What she found was Meredith parked behind her car, with Mo idling in his Jeep behind her.
Meredith lowered her window and waved. “I guess when you run the joint, you can walk off with the dishes.”
“You know it.”
“We’ll follow you home.” Meredith rolled her window up, and they waited for Bronwyn to climb into her car. She’d had Cal give her a ride home after she was done at Landry’s this morning, and she’d driven back to her office. She’d hoped Meredith and Mo would give up on the whole “let’s have a sleepover at Bronwyn’s” idea, meaning she would need her own car to get home.
But here they were.
They all parked at Bronwyn’s home. Once again, Mo cleared her house before they entered. He caught her eye as he returned to the door, but she had no idea what the look he gave her meant.
Bronwyn went straight to the kitchen and called over her shoulder, “I have this pasta from Cassie. It’s possibly the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“That’s because she isn’t eating enough to remember what food tastes like.” Mo’s low grumble wasn’t directed at her, but also ... it was.
“We already ate,” Meredith said. “Besides, Mo will strangle me if I eat your food. He took the time to check your fridge and decided it was alarmingly empty. And yes, that is an exact quote. He’s worried you’re losing weight from stress and general neglect.”
Bronwyn had returned to the living room during Meredith’s speech, and Mo’s eyes didn’t waver from hers. He’d said all of that. And right now, he was daring her to say something about it.
She dragged her focus to Meredith. “So he decided to send creamy pasta to my office.”
“No. He called Cassie and asked her for the most decadent thing she had on the menu tonight.”
Bronwyn looked between the siblings. “That would be the lobster.”
“Yeah, but you don’t eat lobster. At least, that’s what Mo said. And it doesn’t reheat well, anyway.”
She couldn’t stop her eyes from returning to Mo. Again, he was looking at her. No hesitation. No shying away. What was happening?
“Bronwyn?” Meredith waved a hand in front of her. “Hon, you need sleep. Go to bed. We’ve got this.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Seriously. I’ll prep your coffeepot, hassle my annoying brother for a few minutes, and then be right behind you.”
“It’s only eight o’clock.”
“We got up at four.”
