“Lay off it, Neen.”
Nina glared at him, and I sensed the tension between them getting into dangerous territory. I turned to Greyson, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. “We missed you at the thrift store this morning.”
Greyson, who’d been giggling with Kitty, looked up at me. “Oh, yeah,” she said, the laughter draining from her face. “I, uh, wish I could’ve gone.”
Alex stilled and kept his eyes on his plate. So the family thing hadn’t been for fun.
A hush fell over the table. Plates were empty, and the energy of the party was fading fast. “Dessert!” I cried, and left for the kitchen after telling Mia and Kitty to help clear the dishes. Fortunately, my guests rallied at the sight of key lime pie.
Alex took a bite and looked up at me. He pointed to the key lime pie with his fork. “Did you make this?”
Busted. “If by ‘make this’ you mean ‘picked it up from the Publix bakery,’ then yes.”
Smaller conversations broke out around the table. Nina leaned against Ollie’s shoulder, the two of them talking in hushed voices. Alexhad Mia, Kitty, and Greyson enraptured as he told them about the time his parents had “accidentally” taken them camping at a naturalist resort. I couldn’t hear what Belva and Captain Xav were talking about, but both were smiling.
I sat back in my chair, content to watch. Those first two years after leaving North Carolina, I’d fall into bed each night, achingly lonely and missing my family. I still missed my sister and Mark, and the girls when they weren’t here, but things were different now. I thought about the trip to Europe I didn’t take and was grateful for the screwup that had sent Mia and Kitty here for the summer. As I looked around the table, my heart was filled with more happiness than I’d had in months. My eyes settled on Alex, who was giving the finale to his story and had the girls doubled over in laughter. Maybe Nina was right. Maybe I didn’t want to be alone after all.
—
When Ollie, Nina, Belva, and Captain Xav left—Nina rather drunkenly on Ollie’s arm and both tripping over the skirt of her dress—I stood at the doorway and watched them walk across the parking lot. Their laughter echoed back to me, and I rested my head against the doorframe, trying to etch this moment of perfect contentment in my mind. I wanted to remember the warmth spreading from my chest all the way to my fingers (though maybe that was the wine).
When their voices faded, I returned inside and kicked off my shoes, feeling silly in my floor-length gown now that the party was over. Marvin Gaye had replaced the jazz, and I danced my way through the condo. Candlelight cast a dreamy glow on the faces of Mia, Kitty, and Greyson, who dipped their fingers in the wax of an extinguished candle, tapping them along the table once the wax had hardened.
On my way to the kitchen I gave each of them a kiss on the head, Greyson included, counting them in my mind. One, two, three. I’d missed the cadence of that. Always, every summer, one, two, three.When I took the kids to the store, or the beach, or the zoo. Each night before I went to bed: one, two, three. But this summer it had been one, two, one, two. Off rhythm, off beat, off balance.
I found Alex at the sink. He’d removed the jacket of his tux and loosened his bow tie. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled above the elbows as he washed dishes. His hair was fully disheveled now and had fallen into his eyes. He raised his gaze to mine, and when he smiled, the warmth in my chest spread right through me. So there was something sexier than a man in a tux cooking dinner.
Still dancing, I crossed the kitchen and stood beside him. “What do you think you’re doing? Guests don’t do dishes.”
I tried to push him away from the sink, but he didn’t budge.
Alex pulled a plate from the soapy water, watching me as he passed a dish towel over it. “Did you ever think that maybe I like doing dishes? Would you really rob me of one of the few joys I have in this life?”
I took the dry dish from his hands and danced over to the cabinet to put it away. “No one likes to do dishes, Alex. Or is this Ocean talking? I’m sure Oceanlovesto do dishes.”
“Oh no. Ocean hates doing dishes. He likes much more exciting things than Alex.”
“Intriguing.” I turned to face him. The kitchen was so narrow that when I leaned against the counter, we were barely a foot apart, giving me a marvelous view of his backside.
Alex dried his hands with the dish towel and turned to face me. He leaned against the counter on his side of the kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest, like he always did when he leaned against counters. He did a lot of counter leaning, come to think of it. I drew my eyes from his arms up to the dish towel, which he’d tossed casually over his shoulder. Was he doing this to me on purpose? How was it fair for him to be so easygoing and attractive at the same time? Could he hear how loud my heart was beating? It was practically drumming through my chest as he looked at me.
“You changed the music,” I said when the first song ended and another Marvin Gaye song began.
“I did.”
“Songs I actually know for once.” I grabbed the empty wine bottle from beside me and lip-synched a few lines into it. “My mom loves Marvin Gaye,” I explained.Loved, I thought. There wasn’t much she loved anymore.
“So you like it?”
I shrugged, feeling a little light-headed. “Seems a little suggestive. It makes a person wonder what sort of exciting things Ocean might be into.” I froze, clutching the wine bottle tighter. “Did I... say that out loud?”
“You did.” Alex’s eyes darted to the dining room before flicking back to me, and my face grew hot under his gaze. Damn those Drunken Joeys. And the wine. And that tux. All I could think about were my burning cheeks, and the silver in his hair, and how utterly screwed I was, because these feelings for Alex were more serious than I’d realized.
He pushed off the counter and stopped right in front of me. Ducking his head, he looked me in the eye. “Are you tipsy, Florida Girl?”
“N... no.” I set the wine bottle on the counter, then glanced at the now clean wineglasses drying beside the sink with the pitchers Nina had left behind. “Maybe. Okay, a little.”
Alex looked at me for a long moment during which I didn’t breathe at all. “Good,” he said with a nod. “It’s your party. You should be tipsy if you want to be.” He pulled the dish towel from his shoulder and dropped it into my hands, his eyes bright with amusement. “Here, you dry.”
