Page 85

“Good morning,” she says brightly. “I was asking Barbara how your father is feeling this morning. He certainly had a party for one last night.”

I grab two cups, filling them both with coffee from the silver urn, adding milk from the jug. “What time did you all go to bed?”

“God only knows,” she says lightly. “I’m feeling it now though.”

Her eyes catch mine and for a moment I’m ten years younger, sitting with her in this same room, certain I knew exactly how my life was meant to look.

I look away first. I’m not interested in visiting the past.

“Georgia asleep?” she asks.

“Yes. I’m taking her up some coffee, to make up for dragging her here.”

“Alex says the two of you hardly know each other.” Kate’s voice is light. “I’m surprised you brought her here.”

“Why are you surprised?”

She shrugs. “It might give her the wrong impression.” She sips at her coffee, looking at me over the rim.

“What kind of wrong impression?”

“If you bring a girl home to meet the parents, you’ll make her think it’s serious.” Though there’s no emotion in her voice, I catch the undertone.

“Kate…”

“Are you serious about her?” she asks.

For God’s sake. “Yes,” I say. “Very serious.”

For a moment she says nothing. Then a frown pulls at her brows. “You always said you weren’t interested in settling down. Does she know you don’t want children?”

“We’ve talked about it, yes. Not that it’s any business of yours.” I don’t bother sharing that I’m rethinking the idea of kids. Like I’m rethinking everything. “I’m going to head back up,” I say. “Before the coffee gets cold.”

Kate nods, though I don’t miss the hurt in her eyes. She pulls out her phone, tapping something into it as I leave the room.

And I take the stairs two at a time.

Twenty-year-old me didn’t care about who was waiting upstairs. Now I do, and it puts a spring in my step. When I walk into my bedroom it feels warmer. Or maybe that’s just her.

Georgia’s sitting up against the headboard, hair loose around her shoulders, the duvet pooled at her waist. “You’re back,” she says, her eyes crinkling at me.

“I come bearing coffee,” I tell her, passing her a cup. “Thought you might need it.”

She takes a sip and lets out a soft sigh. “Are you always this perfect?”

“Hardly,” I say. “I just didn’t want you freezing to death in a four-poster bed.” I reach out and tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “I was wondering if you were up for a walk today. I’ll take you on a tour of the estate. And we can head down to the beach and see if there’s any storm damage.”

She takes another sip of coffee. Her hair has an edge of morning frizz to it, and when the sunlight catches it, it almost looks like a halo around her face. “Don’t you have to help set up for the party?” she asks.

“Absolutely not. If I interfere my mother will kill me. Or Barbara will. They’ll have hired extra staff to help.”

“In that case a walk sounds perfect,” she says. “We’ll be alone, right?”

“Unless you count the dogs,” I tell her. “Then yes.”

Something flickers across her face. She relaxes like I’ve said the right thing.

“I’m sorry if this is all too much for you. It’s not too late to back out.”