Page 8 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

“Oh,” I replied. “Same to you. I thought you were my brother. I can bring that in.”

“It’s fine,” he said. His son came around the car and stood next to him. I watched him study my hair and decided that we didn’t need to address whether or not it looked shiny enough in his eleven-year-old opinion, so I grabbed the casserole dish and closed the car door with my hip.

“Everyone’s in the den getting ready for the game to start. You want a drink?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Mikey, grab the pies from the back seat.”

“Pie!” I beamed at the two of them. “How wonderful!”

“Store-bought,” Sean clarified. The sun’s rays slanted against his face, gilding his skin and causing his eyes to look particularly striking. He wore a button-down and dark-wash jeans under an open wool jacket, and he looked both casual and put-together. And utterly edible.

I tore my gaze away. “If it’s got a crust, and it’s got a filling, it’s called pie to me,” I told him, then led the two of them inside to the kitchen. When Sean put the pot of potatoes down on top of the stove, his shoulder brushed against mine and I got a whiff of a delicious-smelling cologne. My lady bits went wild.

Forcing my expression to remain neutral, I thanked the two of them and checked the oven, then got to work.

“You need help?”

Surprised that Sean was still there, I spun around with oven mitts on my hands and gave him a smile. “It’s all under control. Turkey’s in, so we’re on track. Beer’s in the fridge, and I know Emily had some snacks out in the den. You just enjoy yourself.”

He watched me for a moment, then knocked his knuckle on the countertop and grabbed himself a drink. I may have watched him walk away, but only because his jeans fit really nicely, and the sight of them made me feel a little woozy.

Which reminded me. I hadn’t eaten anything yet.

I grazed while I cooked, and when things were under control, I finally poured myself half a glass of wine and followed the sounds of conversation to the den. People had moved in and out of the kitchen for the past hour and I’d gotten to say hello to everyone, so I snuck into the room and smiled at Emily, who nodded at me from her perch on the sofa.

I began to lower myself onto a chair and reached for a chip from the depleted chip bowl. My legs were already aching, and there was a lot more cooking and cleaning to do.

Emily glanced at the empty plate on the table. “Would you mind putting on some more of those pigs-in-a-blanket, Lizzie? And where’s Levi? Have you had a chance to talk to him?”

My hand stopped halfway to the chip bowl. “Shoot,” I said. “I’ll go see him now.”

“Anyone need a drink?” Emily asked, and made as if to get up. As she did so, she glanced at me, brows arched, and I waved her back down.

“I’ll grab them,” I said, and took everyone’s order. When it came to Sean, I resisted the urge to avoid eye contact by staring at his chin the whole time and forced myself to meet those beautiful green-blue eyes. “Still working on that one?”

He checked the level in his bottle. “Nearly done. I’ll help you.” He began to stand.

“She’s got it under control, believe me. Lizzie is everyone’s mom. She loves it,” Aaron told him, slapping a hand on Sean's shoulder and shoving him back down to his seat. “I haven’t seen you in two years. We gotta catch up, man!”

I bristled, but…was Aaron wrong? Ididlike to play hostess, and I was already headed to the kitchen anyway. And Sean was a guest.

Sean nodded at my brother, and I noted the tightness of his smile. For a moment, I wondered what had happened in the years since he’d been in high school—and then duty called.

My brother shot me a grin and a thumbs-up, and I forced a smile onto my lips that dropped as soon as I stepped out of the room. It wasn’t that he was wrong, exactly. Iwasthe mom of the group. I’d been the mom of every group, and when I became an actual mom, that role seemed to cement itself in all aspects of my life.

It did cross my mind that I was doing a lot of work for an event that wasn’t actually being held at my house. As I refreshed everyone’s drinks and got the pastry-covered mini sausageswarming, a traitorous, wriggling thought made its way to the forefront of my mind.

I would love to sit in the den with everyone and catch up. I’d love to be like Emily and have my head on my husband’s shoulder while I sipped a glass of wine. I’d love to be seen as an actual adult who had interesting things to contribute to the conversation and not just the de facto cook and nanny for every family event.

But Iwasgood at it. And I did enjoy seeing everyone loving my food. And it made me happy to care for my kids—and my nieces and nephews. So could I really complain? Lots of people didn’t have what I had.

I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and headed for the stairs. Levi’s room was at the end of the hallway upstairs, and his door was ajar when I got to it. I knocked lightly and poked my head in.

Levi glanced up, then went back to the LEGOs spread out on his desk.

“Whatcha working on?”

He pointed to the box propped against the wall. On it, Batman rode a LEGO Batmobile. I could see the beginnings of the project taking shape in front of Levi.

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