Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Sam, as usual, didn’t do the deep dive into his brain that I did. He answered pragmatically. “Sorry, do we have what? Things that we all love?” He squinted, looking confused.
“Yes.”
“Of course,” he replied, like the answer was obvious. “Jory’s a great cook, and his lasagna is the best. There’s a meat and no-meat version, but the meat one is better. People always want to be invited for lasagna.”
“Is that right?” she asked him.
“Yeah,” he assured her, and probably would have said more, but his phone went off. Pulling it from the back pocket of his jeans, he answered, and then turned to leave the kitchen at the same time Gina walked in.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, slipping around her, heading for the back deck.
She watched him walk away, and I took that moment to ask Anne if there was any macaroni and cheese left.
“Of course,” she assured me, seemingly as enamored by me as my husband. “So, Jory, what is the secret of your lasagna?”
“Well,” I began, “I use béchamel instead of ricotta.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“The béchamel sticks better to the pasta,” I told her. “And my family prefers it.”
“I’ll have to try that,” she said just as Hannah walked into the room and leaned on the island as she looked at me.
“You’re gonna die,” she said with a very inelegant snort.
“Should whatever this is wait until we get home?”
“No,” she assured me. “So Chloe, she’s one of Finn’s cousins, she told me that there was some lady sitting with Dad and Eammon, that’s Finn’s dad––”
“I know who Finn’s father is.”
“Fine, anyway, some woman was sitting with them earlier while they were eating, and get this, she was flirting with Dad.”
Ilise turned her head to look at Gina and smiled slowly.
“I mean, can you imagine?”
“Of course I can. Your father’s a very handsome man, everyone notices him.”
“And you’re what, chopped liver?”
I grinned at her.
“But that’s not the point,” she assured me in the high-handed manner she had when she was absolutely certain of something. “The point is Dad—he’s made loyal and steadfast and all that other stuff. And most of all, he still gets that dopey look on his face when he watches you when you’re not looking.”
“Is that right?”
She scowled at me. “You know it is. I’ve told you enough times. He loves you like crazy.”
And I knew that. I didn’t need her to tell me that he stared at me fondly, but I still liked hearing it.
“Oh, Mrs. Murray, I wanted to tell you that your macaroni and cheese is really good.”
“But your father’s is better, is it?”
She made a face. “Oh no. He doesn’t do great mac and cheese.”
“What?” I gasped in mock outrage, and everyone but Gina laughed.
“You don’t, come on. Your baked ziti is to die for, and the lasagna is what you get fed in heaven, but Auntie Aja’s mac…come on.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Hers is the best,” I said, and then added, “In our family,” for Anne’s benefit.
Jake walked in then.
“Are you still eating?” Hannah asked him.
“That was harshly worded,” I scolded her, even though yes, Jake had wolfed down quite a bit of food and was still going.
Hannah turned to me. “If I ate like he does, I’d be as big as a house. And he doesn’t do anything but run and swim.”
“Those both burn a lot of calories.”
“Yes, I know, but come on,” she said, gesturing at him as he put more food on his plate.
“This way Mrs. Murray knows I like her food,” Jake said in his defense.
“That’s true,” Anne agreed, smiling fondly at him. Everyone liked Jake.
Sam came back into the kitchen then and gave me a smile.
“No,” Hannah said with a whimper. “Where do you have to go?”
“It won’t take long, but I have to make sure everyone is okay and probably talk to the press,” he said just as the front doorbell rang. “Sometimes people need to hear it from the boss, not the guy who they normally talk to.”
“You can say Eli,” she scolded him. “We know who he is.”
“Yes, dear,” he said, smiling at her, seeing her bottom lip tremble.
One of the little kids went to open the door, and when he did, he looked up and up until he could see Ian Doyle’s face.
Of course, Ian was glowering, it was his default expression as far as I could tell, and he was wearing Kevlar, which I never liked to see. He was also carrying Sam’s tac vest, and you couldn’t miss the gun strapped to his thigh. I noted that he did not suddenly smile when faced with the small child. I had to wonder if he knew any kids at all.
“Archie, let the marshal inside,” Anne called over to the little boy.
He stepped aside, Ian thanked him and strode in, over to Sam, who took the vest from him as soon as he was close.