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“Good,” I said, smiling as I turned to her. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” I drew Sophie into my arms and kissed her like no one was watching—at least the glass panel in the door was frosted. When the bell rang again, I squeezed her tighter to me, not ready to let go just yet. “Just promise me you’ll enjoy tonight.”
“I promise—”
“We can see the two of you,” Sam said, his thick voice audible through the door. “Save the canoodling for later. I’m starving.”
“You’re being rude, Sam,” said Maya, her familiar voice slipping beneath the door.
“He’s always rude,” I said loudly, letting Sophie go and moving to let them in.
“It seems my husband has left his manners behind,” Maya said, walking in.
She gave Sam a side-eye, then kissed me on the cheek before moving toward Sophie and embracing her warmly. Maya, with her dark curls and golden eyes, was the kind of woman who could light up a room but also keep everyone on their toes—especially Sam. Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes when he thought Maya wasn’t looking–though she was always looking. When her sharp glare caught him, he quickly flashed her an I’m-just-joking smile and held up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon in my direction. “A little housewarming gift.”
“Your house is beautiful by the way,” Maya said, gazing about the foyer. “That painting is gorgeous. Who’s the artist?” She pointed to the landscape painting Sophie had hung above the console table just that morning.
“Um . . . ” Sophie said. “I actually have no idea. I found it in the thrift store in town.
Don’t think I spent more than twenty bucks on it.”
Maya laughed, her eyes bright, her fingers reaching up to touch the canvas. “I’ve never thought about buying art from thrift stores. Next time you go, will you let me know? I’d love to come with you.”
"That sounds great," Sophie said, catching my eye. I knew what she was thinking: everything was going perfectly smoothly thus far.
“What’s for supper?” Sam asked, clapping his hands together. He then sniffed, tilting his chin up like a bloodhound. “I smell Parmigiano. Am I right?” He glanced at Sophie with that big toothy grin of his. “Because if I am, you’ve scoredat leastfive brownie points. Another two if there’s some protein with that.”
Sophie beamed. “Chicken Parmigiano.”
“No one cares about your brownie points, Sam,” said Maya, clapping her husband on the back. “But that does sound delicious, Sophie. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Nothing at all.” Sophie grinned, taking the lead to the kitchen.
“Who’s looking after the kids?” I asked, following the three of them. The best part of the house was the open-plan situation. You could stand in the kitchen and still have a conversation with a person sitting at the dining table. A perfect house for entertaining guests. A perfect house for a family.
“My mom,” Sam said, uncorking the bottle of wine. Sophie had placed three wine glasses down on the marble counter, andI was getting her a non-alcoholic spritzer. “She was more than happy to look after them for the evening.”
"His mother is a saint," said Maya. "She's got this way of soothing Anderson's mid-tantrum that's unbelievable. I keep telling her to write a baby book, but she just brushes me off.
One day, I’ll force her to put pen to paper.”
“I don’t think you can force my mom to do anything,” said Sam. “Especially when it comes to sharing her secrets.”
“True,” Maya replied with a laugh. “But maybe if we band together, Sam, we can at least get her to spill a few things. I’m desperate to know what her secret ingredient is for her famous banana bread.”
“She’s taking that to the grave, Maya, you have to let it go—”
Sophie’s phone rang. I glanced down at where it was lying on the kitchen countertop.
“It’s your brother.”
“Can you take it, please, Alex?” Sophie asked, looking far too preoccupied roasting the almonds for the salad to be taking the call. “He said he wanted to ask us something about the baby shower.”
“Will do.”
“And if it’s something crazy, shut it down immediately,” she added. “He needs to speak to Becks before he makes any decisions.”
“Got it,” I replied, pressing the phone to my ear.
Danny’s voice rang across the speaker. “I think I might’ve found the woman of my dreams, Soph, and I’m not just saying that. Imeanit. She’s—”
