Bloody hell. I’m in trouble.
Sienna’s grin stretches ear to ear. “Told you she was pretty,” she announces, loud enough for Ember to hear.
Ember’s cheeks flush, her lips parting in surprise before she covers it with a laugh. “Hi, Sienna. You look beautiful.”
Sienna twirls around in her blue dress. “It’s like Elsa.”
Flint strides down the hall. “Come in, let me take your coats.”
I hand over my jacket. “Sienna wouldn’t wear a coat.”
She does another twirl and sings, “The cold never bothered me, anyway.”
Ember and Seraphina laugh, but the joke seems lost on Flint.
“Dinner’s ready, come through,” Flint calls, his voice carrying as he strides down the hall.
Sienna skips ahead, her dress swishing, while Ember and I follow at a slower pace. My hand twitches, wanting to reach for hers, but Flint’s presence in the kitchen is enough to keep me in check.
The dining table is already set. A pot roast sits in the middle of the table, and the smell of roast beef reminds me of traditional roast dinners back in the UK. Though now, my life there seems like a distant memory, and here in Starlight Bay feels like home.
Flint serves, Seraphina at his elbow, handing him plates as if they’ve done this a hundred times before.
Sienna plops herself into the chair opposite, eyes shining. “This smells better than Nannan’s,” she declares.
Flint chuckles. “Don’t tell your grandparents that.”
“I won’t,” she promises solemnly, then points her fork towards Seraphina. “Is Chief Sparks your dad?”
The room freezes. Ember’s cough sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
Seraphina blinks, cheeks pink. “Uh—no. No, definitely not.”
Flint mutters under his breath, but his ears are red as he hands her another plate.
Sienna tilts her head, confused.
Bloody hell. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Bug…”
Seraphina recovers quickly, flashing a grin. “He’s like family. He acts like my dad sometimes.”
“Oh,” Sienna says, satisfied. Then she adds with brutal honesty, “You don’t look alike, anyway. You’re not grumpy.”
Ember nearly spits out her water. Flint’s jaw works, but Seraphina beams as if she’s just been crowned Miss Universe.
I risk a glance at Ember, who’s biting her lip to keep from laughing. Our eyes meet, and heat hums low in my chest.
Plates are passed around, the usual chorus of clinking cutlery filling the silence. Ember sits beside me, the edge of her green dress brushing my arm. Too close, but not close enough.
Under the table, my knuckles graze hers by accident. At least, that’s how it starts. She stiffens, then lets out a breath, her hand still.
I should move, but instead, I turn my palm, slow and deliberate, and let my fingers slide against hers. Her skin is soft, warm. She doesn’t pull away.
When I glance sideways, she’s already watching me. Her green eyes soft and uncertain, but warm.
I tilt my mouth into the smallest grin, squeeze her hand once beneath the tablecloth.
Her lips curve in return. A shy, secret smile, meant only for me.
