Page 94 of Need You Now

She brightens. “Really?”

“Yep. Go get dressed.” He reaches behind her, one hand slipping beneath the robe to cup the curve of her bare ass. “You’re leavin’ in half an hour.”

She gasps. “I can’t get ready in thirty minutes, Seth.”

“You can today.”

She gives him the finger and pushes past him, heading for the door.

“Lace?”

She whirls on him, hisses, “What?”

A warm grin from Seth. “You look really beautiful.”

She scowls at him, at that damn smile that has her threatening to melt, and yanks the door open. She peeks her head out of the room.

Alabama Forester turns the corner of the hallway, already dressed for the day in a chunky knit sweater and leather leggings.

Shit.

Alabama freezes at the sight of Lacey in Seth’s doorway.

Lacey grimaces and adjusts her robe. She has two options. Retreat or walk.

She walks.

Spine straight, Lacey exits Seth’s room, chin held high as she strides down the hall. Fast. For the kitchen.

At the coffee bar, Lacey keeps a straight face as Alabama enters behind her. A tight tension fills the space.

“I reckon we both have the same idea,” Alabama drawls, going straight for the coffee mugs.

“I guess so.” Lacey pours herself a cup of coffee then steps away from the pot, freeing it up for Alabama. Praying she doesn’t bring up what she just saw. She needs coffee first for that conversation, and if Prentiss were here, she’d steal a Xanax.

As she hunts in the fridge for some cream, Alabama’s soft drawl floats. “Top left shelf.”

Then— “I know you don’t like me, Lacey,” she says from the other side of the fridge.

Lacey shuts the door to meet Alabama’s solemn gaze.

She sniffs. “I don’t like what you did to my sister. Or Luke.”

“I understand. And I agree with you.” She shakes her red head, guilt creasing her pretty features. “Sometimes I still ain’t sure how Sal can forgive me.”

Lacey dunks a dollop of cream in her coffee, refusing to be swayed. She leans back against the counter. “Because that’s Sal.” Pride swells in her. “My sister’s the best.”

“She is.” Alabama reaches across her for the cream. “Which is why, even if you don’t like me, I hope we can at least get along. For Sal.”

Lacey considers the thought. The door held open to something between her and Alabama. At the very least, a defrosting.

Before she can respond, Sal’s in the kitchen, dressed in running gear: tennis shoes, leggings and a navy hoodie hugging her belly. Beside her, Winston trots, his nose hoovering across the kitchen floor for scraps. Sal smiles at Alabama, says to Lacey, “Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Lacey’s throat tightens. She looks down into her coffee like it can give her an answer. “Oh, uh, I—”

“We were checkin’ out the pool on the lower level,” Alabama offers.

“You were?” Sal looks surprised. Surprised, but pleased.

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