Chapter 6
six
LUCY
I’m wiped out but also so incredibly satisfied. Looking around at the mess of cookie crumbs, frosting smears, and sprinkles scattered across the floor, I can’t help but grin. Tonight was a total win.
Bree grabs a damp cloth, tossing a teasing glance toward Callan as he eats another cookie.
“What?” he protests around a mouthful of red icing. “Quality control doesn’t just do itself, you know.”
Bree cackles. “You say that, but I’ve watched you eat at least seven of those.”
He winks, never breaking eye contact with Bree as he licks a stripe of frosting from his knuckle.
Knox leans against the counter with his arms crossed, raising an unimpressed brow. “You two are getting dangerously close to weird territory. I suggest you take…wherever this is going elsewhere.”
Callan just grins, grabbing Bree by the waist and spinning her in a circle. By the way Bree shrieks and laughs, you can tell there’s nothing else that exists for her in that moment. They orbit each other without even trying. I love that for them.
Juliette watches them goof off with a fond, slightly exhausted smile with the twins perched on each hip.
Then she turns to me. “These two are going to crash hard as soon as we get them in the car.” Maisie’s already rubbing her eyes, and Keira has her whole fist crammed into her mouth, a sure sign she’s moments from a meltdown.
Knox fumbles for the diaper bag, taking Juliette’s cue, but he keeps glancing at the twins with awe, like he can’t believe they’re real. Knox and Juliette have always moved together in a seamless rhythm. They have the kind of partnership I’ve always dreamed of.
I keep telling myself I’m fine with how things worked out…or rather, with how they didn’t. But tonight, with the twins’ sleepy faces pressed against Juliette’s shoulders, the ache sneaks back in.
My last relationship fizzled in a slow, painful way.
We’d been together for a year when I eventually had the doctor’s visit that gave me all the answers I didn’t want to hear.
I told him about the numbers and the odds.
He tried to act like it didn’t matter, but the shift in our relationship was palpable.
Date nights turned into takeaway and TV.
His hand, once always in mine, became a casual brush on the shoulder, then nothing at all.
I knew he was running the risk calculations in his head, weighing a relationship with me against the big family he’d mapped out for himself. I wasn’t the safe choice anymore.
When he finally left, it was with a sheepish apology, some half-hearted line about different futures. I remember standing in the doorway after he drove off, feeling stupid for being surprised. I’d seen the retreat happening in real time.
What stung most wasn’t losing him. It was the way he’d looked at me near the end, as though I was already a disappointment.
Since then, romance has felt like walking barefoot over thin ice. I’ve gotten into the habit of pretending I’m not listening for cracks, but they always eventually make themselves known.
We say our goodbyes before Juliette wrangles the twins into their coats.
Knox lingers with her by the door, holding it open as a bitter wind snakes in.
I watch them bundle the girls into the car with their tiny hats pulled down over their ears, identical chubby faces peeking out from around fleece.
They wave, headlights swinging past the café windows as they drive off.
Inside, it’s just the three of us. Callan’s stacking chairs, and Bree is scrubbing down the tables with a vengeance. I’m gathering sticky spatulas and empty sprinkle jars when Bree sidles up beside me.
“All right, spill,” she whispers. “You spent the whole night giving googly eyes to some guy.”
I freeze, every muscle in my body locking up as I scramble to mask the rush of heat flooding my face. I know exactly who she means, but I’m not about to admit it. “Which guy? I chatted with a lot of people tonight.”
“You can’t fool me, Lucy.” Bree smirks, folding her arms as she raises a brow. “I could tell you were getting all flustered from across the room.”
“I was not!” I protest, but even I can hear the faint crack in my voice.
She shoots me a knowing look. “Uh-huh, and I’m the Queen of Scotland.”
I groan, grabbing the nearest trash bag and pretending to focus on something, anything, to avoid her amused stare.
Bree leans in closer, her grin growing wider. “You know, Cal and I could do some recon for you. Figure out what Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy actually likes, besides brooding in corners. See if he’s single?”
Of course she lands the one question I absolutely am not asking. Not out loud, anyway. Inside, I’ve been pathetically wondering if he’s married or not. I’m not giving Bree and Callan that kind of ammunition.
Callan flashes a wicked grin, playing along. “Plot twist: He loves puppies and long walks on the beach.”
“Goodnight!” I blurt, tossing the trash bag over my shoulder with far more force than necessary. “I’m going home before this turns into an actual roast.”
Bree waves innocently. “Fine, fine. But we’re not done with this conversation, you smitten kitten!”
They’re ridiculous, but unfortunately, they’re also not wrong. That’s what makes it even worse.