“I’m still mad that you kissed her.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
I take a breath.
“Fair enough. I’m just…I don’t know what got into me.”
“So you’re not mad at me anymore?”
Taking a seat on the patio bench, I can feel my pulse slow down. “No.”
“Good. Don’t be mad at Summer, either.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Summer.”
“Yeah, you might want to check on her,” he says.
I point a finger at him. “And you might want to check on Harmony. I suspect that’s the worst of the damage here.”
chapter
eight
Summer
“Harmony, wait!”
I find my sister sitting in the empty sitting room with the bar, curled up on a fringed chaise, shoving dinner mints into her mouth from a bowl on an antique end table. If she was wearing a corset and petticoats, she’d be the perfect picture of a scorned woman in a Jane Austen novel.
“There you are,” I say, breathless.
“There you are,” she imitates through a mouthful of chocolate.
“You’re so good at comebacks when you’re mad,” I say. I can’t help it, because this is so farcical and dumb.
“Shut up, Summer.”
I have to remind myself that she’s hurt by what she thought she saw.
“Can I sit down?” I ask.
“Evidently, you don’t care what I think about anything, so do what you want,” she says.
Ouch.
I sit on the edge of the chaise and try to will away the drunken urge to assault her with a lecture.
“Listen. It was a mistake.”
She snorts and unwraps another dinner mint.
“I kissed Carter earlier, and then things got awkward. When I came out of the bathroom, in the dark, I thought it was Carter. Cooper was obviously confused but I took that as Carter’s shyness. So I kissed him again, I thought.”
My sister remains silent.
“I wanted to crawl into a hole when I realized who I’d kissed.”
Harmony scoffs. “He sure didn’t though, did he? He was beet red.”