Page 4 of The Summer We Danced

But never in his life had so much been at stake. He’d either lose his mother…or Kate Wylie, the woman he’d only just realized he loved.

“Hey.”

They both turned at the sound of Crista’s voice. She stepped outside onto the deck, the lights in the house silhouetting her narrow figure. Her hair was weirdly wild—she normally managed to tame her dark curls into smooth submission. Her shoulders seemed a little slumped, as if the fight had gone out of them, or maybe they were just pressed by the weight of her job tonight. She seemed even more petite than usual, and very, very sad.

At ten years her senior, Eli had often felt like both brother and father figure to his perfectionist little sister. Especially tonight, despite how her arrival had damaged the lovely peace they’d spent a month happily building at the Summer House.

Poor kid. It wasn’t easy being Maggie’s messenger.

“Come on out, Cris,” he said, taking a step forward. “Let’s start over with a nice family hello.”

She smiled and lifted a red Solo cup. “Jonah’s version of a greeting. It’s strong and I’m dizzy enough. Want it?”

He shook his head and led her to the grouping of furniture around a coffee table. “Have a seat.”

Before she did, Vivien came closer, the two of them regarding each other in silence.

Crista blew out a breath, caving first. “Hurricane Crista, cat five, has arrived.”

Vivien smiled at the ice-breaker. “Hey, it’s Florida. We get hurricanes here.” With that, she put her arms around Crista and closed her eyes. “Sit down and tell us everything, okay? Without…”

“Raising my voice?” Crista suggested with a wry self-deprecating laugh. “I’ll try, but it’s…upsetting. I’m really upset and when I saw her…” She huffed out a breath. “Yeah.”

Vivien reached for a throw blanket on the back of the sofa and Eli touched the wall switch to turn on the fire feature built into the coffee table.

Crista sat down on the sofa and took a sip, then quickly set the cup down. “Look, I’m sorry for…that. I was stunned to see her, is all. But…” She bit her lip and looked over the dancing flames into Eli’s eyes. “I stand by my position. We cannot fraternize with that family.”

Fraternize?Eli almost laughed. Should he tell her that he’d fallen so hard for Kate Wylie he couldn’t see straight? That he planned to get her down here from Ithaca this summer with her two kids? That Tessa and Lacey had started an event planning business together and they’d basically been one big happy family for almost five weeks?

God forbid.

No. The God he loved would never forbid that. But his mother would.

He opted to start on slightly more neutral territory—the house. He made a vague gesture around them. “So what do you think of the Summer House, twenty-first century version?”

“It’s nice.” She gave an easy laugh. “Understatement alert, and I’m not known for those.”

Eli smiled. “It’s fine, Cris. We know you’re upset. We just don’t quite understand why.”

“Well, this house is a work of art,” she said. “I mean, wow, what a flip. I can’t believe it’s the same place we came and stayed as kids.”

“Just the same piece of land,” Eli said. “Although we saved a few things from the original place, like the front door, which has been repurposed as the pantry door. And some ancient window glass. What else?” he asked Vivien.

“My diaries,” she said. “Those are a good time.”

Crista rolled her eyes. “I can only imagine.” She air-quoted, “‘Crista had a meltdown.’”

Vivien snorted. “That’s in there.”

Crista smiled, but her expression grew pained as it became obvious that they had to stop the small talk and get down to the business of why she was here.

“This is very serious, you guys.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, but Artie Wylie is responsible for Dad’s death.”

“How?” Eli demanded. “Do you realize you haven’t told us yet?”

She nodded, taking another sip, but the booze made her shudder so she put the cup down and slid it away. “I couldn’t tell you while she?—”

“Tell us now,” Vivien interrupted with an impatient look.

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