Page 14 of Forever in the Country

My finger caresses the delicate petals and a smile teases my lips.

I want those things with Sorren.

My breath catches and my smile fades like a flame being doused with a bucket of water.

There might have been a time—hell, I thought it was inevitable—but I’d been put so far into the friend zone there was no hope of getting out. I’d made peace with it, mostly, but moments like these still snuck in when I wasn’t paying attention.

A knock on the door pulls me out of my spiral, and I can’t help my smile as my brother Hank fills the doorway.

“Can you take that top pan? It’s not hot,” he says by way of greeting.

“It’s nice to see you too, big brother,” I tease, but he just narrows his eyes at me before walking into the kitchen and preheating the oven. “You could have told me to do that before you got here.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t need long anyway.”

“What did you make?” I ask, resting my elbows on the island and peering over at him. It smells delicious, and I can’t remember the last time I ate today.

“Stuffed manicotti. There’s sauce in there.” He levels me with a serious look. “Do not burn it.” My brother is a bear of a man like our father. His dark hair is pulled into a knot at the nape of his neck, and his beard is a little longer than usual. I wonder if it’s because his wife likes it or that they’re just too busy with the triplets.

“Seriously, once. It happened once and I learned my lesson.”

“I still have nightmares,” he states flatly and I stick my tongue out at him. Hank chuckles and it’s low and husky, and my heart squeezes in my chest. My brother deserves so much happiness and now, after all these years, he finally has it.

“How did you make all this with the babies?”

He shrugs like having three of them isn’t a hardship. “Duke likes to be in that wrap thing so I wore him around the kitchen.”

My smile is impossibly wide at the mention of my nephew and godson. Not to mention the fact that the hulking man in front of me wears the baby wrap.

“You’re adorable.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grumbles, but it’s not as gruff as he thinks it is and does absolutely nothing to lessen the aww factor.

“Don’t say shit like what?” Sorren asks from behind me and I jump, almost knocking over the seat next to me.

“Jesus!” I gasp as I spin on him. “Make noise next time.”

“What?” Sorren asks, but the hint of a smile on his lips says he knew exactly what he was doing and will definitely be doing it again. Like it was my fault he was damn near silent coming into the house.

“You guys still on for watching the babies this weekend?” Hank asks, pulling us both out of our staring contest.

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” I narrow my eyes at Sorren as he answers for both of us before turning to nod at my brother.

“We’ll be there.”

“You guys make me tired,” Hank laments.

“We make you tired?” I ask indignantly. “You have three babies at home.”

“I know.” He levels his gaze at me, and I huff because it’s ridiculous. And probably true.

Hank stares at both of us before giving me the rundown of last-minute serving instructions. The man is remarkably bossy when it comes to food, but because he usually provides me leftovers, I don’t tease him about it.

Much.

Seriously, over the last several months he’s practically become the caterer for all family gatherings not hosted by our mama, and even then he usually contributes something big. Also, the girls’ night drink bar and charcuterie spreads he does are to die for.

With one last promise not to burn the sauce, I finally hustle my brother out the door. My reprieve doesn’t last long because as soon as I turn around, I find Sorren leaning against the island with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

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