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“It will once I tell you about the time Vin cut the tip of his pinkie off trying to chop an onion.”

Her brows shoot upward. “He did not.”

I grin. “Oh, he absolutely did. In fact, he made our pilot airlift him to the hospital with the tip on ice so the plastic surgeon could save it.”

Her laughter floats around me, shooting straight through my damn heart, and I try everything in my power to memorize the sound.

I reach above her, retrieving the stainless-steel pot hanging from the rack, then carry it to the sink to fill it with water. Behind me, I hear the steady scrape of cheese against the grater. Charlotte works more slowly this time, her brows pinched in concentration as she watches every movement.

“By the way,” she says after a moment, “thank you for the painting supplies.” Her smile softens. “I got everything set up in your greenhouse this afternoon with help from my assistant, Clara.”

I grab the zester and the lemon. “Good.”

She pauses her movements, her eyes downcast. “I haven’t painted in years.”

“You should change that.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “I’m hoping to.”

Something warm settles in my chest, and I let myself hold onto it. I turn my attention back to the stove, dropping the pasta into the boiling water as we fall into an easy rhythm, passing ingredients back and forth and sharing quiet smiles between conversations like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

Thirty minutes later, we’re on the deck overlooking the lake, enjoying the last bites of our meal. I swirl the whiskey in my glass before taking a sip, the familiar burn trailing down my throat. I set my cup and plate on the table beside me and look over at Charlotte, who is lying back in her seat, staring up at the night sky.

I open my mouth to speak when she says, “The view here is so beautiful.”

I don’t take my eyes off her, not bothering to look at the stars. Why would I when I could look at her instead? “It is.”

“I’ve lived in the city my whole life.” Her eyes remain fixed on the endless stretch of stars overhead. “I’ve never seen so many stars in the sky. I feel like I could paint this.”

“You should.”

A silence settles between us.

It’s comfortable as we both admire the night sky, with only a foot or two of space between us.

“Clara is so lucky to have you all,” she muses. “I’ve never seen so much love for one person.” Her lips curve up, and her head tilts to the side, her eyes catching with mine. “There’s something really heartwarming about it.”

For a second, I lose myself in those impossibly green eyes before I remember where we are. I clear my throat. “I don’t ever want her to feel anything less.”

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, her brows drawing together, looking like she has something on her mind. “Can I ask you something?”

I turn toward her. “Anything.”

Her gaze drifts to the lake before returning to mine. “What happened to Clara’s mom?”

The question hangs between us.

I lean farther back in my chair, my eyes lifting to the blanket of stars overhead.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s fine.” I rest my forearms on the armrests, my fingers curling around the wood. “She decided she didn’t want to be a mom and left Clara at the front gate with the guards.”

Charlotte’s eyes widen, a gasp slipping from her lips. “What?”

I nod once. “I didn’t even know Clara existed. If I had, well…” I rub my temple. “Things would have been a lot different.”

“And where is she now?”