Page 51 of Forged By Sacrifice

“Who wants coconut and nuts in their chocolate?” she said in disgust.

“See. Trusting me with a lot.”

“Chocolate, Robbie. Chocolate. Not nuts. Not coconut. Chocolate.”

“Okay, but when you hate it, I’m eating it.”

And I walked out.

? ? ?

That night, when we got home, Georgie was on the couch with some show on that had people singing. Dani flopped down on the couch next to her, instantly enthralled as they barreled into a debate that made me realize they’d been watching it while I’d been at sea.

I sat down on the other side of Georgie, putting my feet up on the coffee table, and our legs knocked together. She adjusted, pulling hers away from me.

The people on the stage were croaking out something in a godawful voice.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

“Fighting for the Stars,” they both said at the same time without looking at me once. Eyes glued to the TV.

“It’s awful.”

“Shh,” Dani said.

“This duo is, but you should hear Kerri who is up next,” Georgie said over the top of Dani’s shushing.

The TV flashed to a row of people sitting at a table in front of the stage before returning to the couple onstage.

“Wait. Was that Brady?” I asked.

Georgie nodded. “Yep, he’s one of the guest judges this week.”

I couldn’t help but feel that roll in my chest that I’d felt when Georgie had run into his arms at The Salty Dog back in July. It was unwarranted. Undeserved. I couldn’t have her, but I didn’t think Brady could either. She didn’t seem the type to go flitting around the country after a musician.

I couldn’t stomach the thoughts or the show, so I rose from the couch and headed to the kitchen. “I’m going to order from Bentley’s. You ladies want something?”

“Of course. I’ll have the lasagna tonight,” Dani said without once having removed her eyes from the screen.

“What’s Bentley’s?” Georgie asked, looking at me.

“Only the best Italian outside of our grandma’s,” I retorted.

“Don’t let Vinnie hear you say that,” Dani said, laughing, turning to join our conversation as a commercial started.

“Who’s Vinnie?” Georgie asked.

“Our brother-in-law. He’s married to Gabi, our oldest sister. He owns an Italian restaurant in Wilmington. It’s decent, but it’s one step further removed from Grandma’s than Bentley’s, but we humor Vinnie and Gabi by saying it’s the best,” Dani explained.

I handed Georgie the menu we had hanging on the refrigerator because, as much as we loved Bentley’s, we didn’t have a standard order. It changed with our mood and often required a deep perusal of the options that we really had memorized.

“I’ll have an order of the gnocchi,” Georgie said.

“Good choice,” I told her.

I called in the order, and she went to her purse, handing me some cash. “Nah, we take turns. This one is on me.”

She looked to Dani, but Dani was back to staring at the singing on the TV now that the commercial was over.

---