Page 238 of The Sweetest Return

Tasha nodded. “I told her. Boiled eggs. Cut fruit. Chicken wraps. Something she can grab between meetings without acting like chewing is a personal failure.”

“I have improved,” Imani said.

“Barely.”

“Some improvement is still improvement.”

“Listen to you trying to negotiate nutrition.”

I crossed the kitchen and touched the back of Imani’s neck. “Hey.”

She turned toward me on the stool, eyes lifting to mine. “Hey.”

Her braids were twisted into a low bun, a few soft pieces loose near her temples. Cream blouse. Camel coat. Dark trousers. Gold hoops. Saint Aurelia diamonds at her wrist and throat because apparently a regular Thursday deserved evidence.

I kissed her slow.

Soft enough for company.

Long enough for her lashes to lower when I pulled back.

Tasha made a sound behind us. “I have food on this stove and eyes in my head.”

Imani laughed against my mouth.

I kissed her once more because I could, then leaned back. “Go shower. Dinner’ll be ready when you come down.”

“You telling me to shower?”

“I’m telling you to get comfortable.”

“Bossy.”

“Concerned.”

“That sounds like a rebrand.”

“I know somebody in marketing.”

Her smile came tired but real.

I walked her to the stairs because I liked doing that too. She stopped halfway up and looked back at me.

“My bag still in your room?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t move it?”

“No.”

“You didn’t put it in the guest room?”

I looked at her.

Her mouth curved. “Okay.”

I watched her go until she disappeared.