She gives me a look that says she knows exactly how untrue that is, then steps farther into the kitchen. “This space looks wonderful,” she says, running her fingers along the edge of the counter. “You finally fixed the oven?”
“Knox did,” I say. “Twenty minutes ago.”
“Good,” my father says. “That kitchen’s been underused for too long.”
I fold my arms loosely across my chest, already clocking the way this conversation is drifting. “You didn’t drive all the way back here to talk about ovens. What’s wrong?”
“No,” my mother agrees. “We drove back to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” she says lightly. “You always are.”
My father claps a hand on my shoulder, firm and familiar. “Vineyard’s running well. I’ve been hearing good things.”
“You should be hearing good things,” I say. “I run it properly.”
He smiles at that. Proud. Something in my chest tightens at the quiet weight of his approval, but I don’t dwell on it.
Dwelling isn’t productive.
“When you retire and pass this place on to your son or daughter,” he continues, “you’ll understand why your mother and I can’t quite stay away.”
I huff out a breath. “That’s assuming I ever retire.”
My mother’s eyes flick to mine. Sharp. Knowing. “And assuming you don’t plan on running this place alone forever.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of laughter filters in from the hallway before I can. Light. Familiar. My shoulders tense instinctively.
Knox appears first, slipping into the kitchen with a grin and a snack in his hand. Like there’s a show to watch. “Hope I’m not interrupting—oh. Well. Would you look at that.”
I shoot him a look. His eyebrows lift as his gaze lands on my parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Boone,” he says easily as he sweeps his attention toward them. “Didn’t know you two were back in town.”
“Knox,” my mother says warmly with an easy smile on her face. “Still causing trouble?”
“Only the fun kind,” he replies with a wink. “I’ll let you guys catch up.”
“What do you need?” I ask.
Knox’s smile is practically mischievous. “Your guests are here.”
My pulse kicks.
Lia and Eli.
They’re here.
Knox steps to the side and disappears just outside the kitchen doorway as Eli steps into view. Amber bounces at his side, her smile bright as she clings to a hand at her side. Lia stands beside the girl, her gaze curious but cautious as it sweeps the space.
I can’t help it. My nostrils flare, my body greedy for her scent. For her presence. For her body to be against mine again. I feel my mother’s gaze on me, studying me in that way only meddling mothers can.
Lia’s blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail that would wrap perfectly around my hand. Her cardigan of choice today frames her curves nicely, calling to my palms as I flex my handsat my sides. Her scent is sweet and damning, like a tray of cinnamon rolls I want to dig into with a fork.
She freezes the moment she realizes she’s walked into a family reunion.
“Oh,” she says quietly.
