“We’re talking about going to Aspen. Before the leaves change and all the tourists descend. After Ayla and Sariah are ready. Y’all in?”
There’s a quiet intake of breath from the woman next to me. Shit. I’m half of an us, or we, or y’all now.
I nod, but hedge. “Let us know the details. If we can, we’ll be there.”
I look to my right and wish I hadn’t. Lorien’s face is soft and curious. There’s something approving in her look that makes my insides warm. I have no fucking time for warm insides.
“We’ll get you details.”
“Am I good to…” Renée drifts off and points down the hall to her room.
“Sure thing, Née,” Sariah says and watches her daughter walk away, Eleanor right on her heels.
“She loved me. She only had eyes for me,” Cian mutters. “But then you women folk came and stole her away from me.”
“Women folk? Are we in the 1800’s now?” Sariah chides.
“A man and his dog should be sacred. That’s all I’m saying.” He moves around the kitchen, putting away leftovers and fake complaining. He loves that dog, but he loves his humans more. Never thought I’d see the day.
“I’m glad you have something to grumble about. The rest of your life is so perfect.” I shovel in the last of my nachos and cringe when Sariah unwraps the cookies.
Don’t do it. Please don’t do it. You have no idea.
My telepathy must not work because she takes a huge bite and schools her features almost immediately. “Wow.” The wonderin her voice isn’t joy, I’d bet. I’d bet she’s confused and wondering how to swallow it. I could be wrong, but…
She looks at me, and I shake my hand and my head at the same time. “I can’t. Sorry. I ate too much dinner.” My eyes crinkle. I know they do, but I fight to hold my lips in a perfect line. “Thank you. It was delicious.”
“Um hmm.” Her eyes narrow on me but brighten up the moment Lorien looks up at her from Wills.
“They’re my mom’s recipe. I don’t really like to eat sweets, but I love to bake.”
“Ci, you have to taste this.” Sariah smiles sweetly and hands him her half-eaten cookie and faces away from us working at the sink.
I will not laugh. I will not laugh.
“Oh. Wow.” He pauses for a while. “Brownies yesterday and cookies today. It’s not an expectation you know.” His jaw is working and his lips are moving but his eyes tell another story.
“You sound like Liam.” She waves a hand.
I don’t know whether it’s the dismissal in her tone or the familiarity of my name on her lips, but I lean in, closer than I should. “Are we good?”
She turns and there’s her little intake of breath. We’re too close and our eyes lock. I fight to swallow for a brief second as she drops her eyes to my lips before they slide away.
“Yeah. We’re good.”
I pull the folded papers from my pocket and pass them to her. She opens them, her eyes scanning from top to bottom before returning to the top and reading it more slowly.
The water is running in the sink, and I’m pretty sure Cian and Sariah are talking between themselves, but the world blurs around me aside from the paper and the woman reading it.
She slides the top one aside. Below the certificate is a second document that I hadn’t shown her before. It bears the stationery of Nettles and Cohen, Sherman’s firm. This is the prenup. I know this one by heart like I do the one above it. Everything she came into the marriage with is hers. Any property bought in only her name is solely hers. Same for me. Any property or luxury itemsbought with both of our names will be split equally in the case of dissolution. At least, legally, we sound like we want this to work.
“Do you have a pen?” she asks quietly, her voice little more than a whisper.
One appears between us. It’s probably Cian’s doing. I don’t know.
She signs her name twice and drops her eyes closed. When she opens them, she’s resolute, sliding the papers my way.
I sign, not bothering to double check the date or the correctness. I’ve already had the time to do so.
