“So what are we making again?” Kelly asked, her eyes wide as she surveyed the mass of bags on her kitchen counter.

“It’s basically chicken, rice, and veggies,” I said as I unpacked ingredients and began lining everything up.

“Oh.”

“It’s fancy chicken, rice, and veggies, okay?”

Kel sighed in relief. “Okay.”

I peeked out the kitchen window, watching the kiddos play with Henry, who was Kel’s best friend from high school. He was also a very good chef in his own right and worked at the local restaurant his family owned.

“You sure Henry doesn’t mind watching Max and Allie?”

“Nope. He wanted some time away from the diner, and the kids are a good distraction.”

I raised a brow at that very nondescript explanation. Kel put her hands up. “Not my story to tell.”

“Hmm.” I gathered the canvas shopping bags, folding them up and setting them on the counter. “And why didn’t you hit him up to cook?”

“I did,” Kelly said. “He wouldn’t bail me out.”

I bumped her shoulder, nodding at the sink so she could wash up. “I see how it is, I’m second best?”

“That’s not—”

“Second best,” I sing-songed, walking over to where Abby was stacking blocks in a playpen in the corner of the kitchen. It was shoved between the wall and a wood table and chairs, one of which looked a little lopsided. “Just like this chair,” I said as I pushed it out of the way and smacked a kiss on Abby’s head.

“Your eyes”—emerald green just like her daddy’s—“are gorgeous.”

The water turned off, and Kelly came over, drying her hands with a towel. “They are. I thought she might look like Rex, and then . . .”

“Justin is her dad, Kel. Not Rex.” I put an arm around her shoulders. “You have the papers to prove it.”

“I wish I hadn’t—”

“You made a mistake, but you got something precious and valuable from it, yeah?”

Kel nodded, and I went for levity.

“Plus, it’s good you chose to make a mistake with twins because it makes explanations a lot easier.”

Kel had previously been in a relationship with Justin’s twin, Rex, and had ended up pregnant and alone . . . at least until Justin had showed up in Darlington.

They’d hit a few bumps but had eventually figured it out. Or I’d thought so anyway.

“Are you unhappy?” I asked, taking in her pale face and the lines around her mouth. “You don’t have to stay with—”

“I’m not unhappy,” Kel said. “I’m freaked out.”

Abby had been thoroughly entertained with her wooden blocks, but at the sound of her mom’s worried voice extended her arms. “Up, mama.”

“Why?” I asked as Kelly swept her from the playpen.

“I’m pregnant again.”

I shrieked. “What?”

“I know.” Kelly hugged Abby tightly before the little girl squirmed to be put down.

“But—but how?” I shook my head. “Okay, don’t answer that.” I crossed back to the kitchen island and began washing vegetables.

Kel giggled. “No details?”

I wrinkled my nose as I began chopping onions. “No, thanks.”

My sister corralled Abby in the kitchen as I moved on to chopping carrots and lettuce. I peeled some potatoes, trimmed some asparagus, and then set all the veggies to the side. “So are we celebrating?”

“Justin doesn’t know yet,” she said, biting her lip. “I—uh . . . we moved so quickly with Abby and the wedding and now . . .”

I put the knife down. “That’s not what has you worried.” I fixed her with a glare. “Spill.”

“What if he loves her less?” Kel asked. The question was quiet and almost drowned out by Abby’s babbling of “Ma! Ma! Ma!”

“Oh, Kel.” I crossed around the island and sat down on the floor in front of Abby. The sweet little girl crawled into my lap and tugged at my hair. “How could anyone not love her?”

“She’s not his. Or not entirely anyway.”

“Bullshit.”

Kelly and Abby both stared up at me with wide eyes. I sent up a silent prayer that the little parrot wouldn’t pick that moment to begin mimicking me.

Her first curse word courtesy of Aunt Melissa. Yeah, that would be awesome.

“Justin loves her. He loves you.”

“But what if he thinks it’s too soon.”

“He won’t.”

Kel sighed and sat back onto her heels. “How do you know?”

I smiled. “I know.”

“But how?”

I took my sister’s face in my hands and turned it to the doorway, where Justin stood. His face was a little pale, his eyes a little wide, but he was grinning.

“Is it true?” he asked.

Kel bit her lip and nodded shyly.

Justin was across the room in a few short strides, scooping Abby up, and then pulling Kelly into his arms. “How are you feeling?” he asked fiercely.

“Fine. Not sick at all,” Kelly said. “Or not yet anyway.”

He smiled and hugged them tightly as I backed slowly away. I’d give them a few minutes before I went back and finished cooking dinner.

Justin’s voice trailed after me as I slipped out onto the front porch. “I’m not going to call you an idiot, but what were you thinking? I love you both so, so much.”

And, ding, that was the correct answer. Good job, Justin.

Henry and the kids were running like maniacs over the front lawn, tagging each other and then sprinting away, giggling and falling all over the place. Adorable little monkeys.

I slipped back inside, found the kitchen empty, and got back to work. The thought of another baby made me smile. I loved babies. They were so squishy and fluffy and smelled yummy.

Okay, I knew I was weird.

I didn’t want another one for myself, but I did like the idea of being an auntie again.

Most of the perks but less of the work.

Smiling to myself, I got back to my own work. From what Kelly had told me, the clients were coming over at five thirty. I threw together a quick appetizer of brie, cranberries, and candied walnuts then sliced up and toasted another loaf of my sourdough bread, deciding that my sister owed me big time for parting with my favorite snack.

Maybe I’d put her on babysitting duty for the monsters. Rob and I hadn’t had a date night since—

I couldn’t remember.

Frowning, I sliced herbs and mixed them with butter, then pounded the chicken breasts until they were very thin. I spread the herb butter over the surface before rolling up each piece and searing it in a pan. It would give the chicken a little color—anemic-looking food did not taste yummy—and some nice texture.

And though I snapped pictures each step of the way, my mind was on autopilot. When was the last time I’d spent some time alone with my husband that wasn’t a half hour on the couch before I fell asleep?

Years.

It had literally been years since I’d been on a date with Rob.

A knot loosened in my chest. Well, that was clearly the issue. We’d grown apart. But I could fix that. I could eliminate the distance between us, and we could go back . . . find ourselves again.

It was so simple.

We needed a date night.

I rolled my eyes. We needed more than a date night, but spending some time alone together would be the first step across that bridge. I would call Callie and set up a time in the next couple of weeks.

“Okay,” I murmured, sliding the pan with the chicken into the oven to finish cooking. “I can do this.”

We could get back on track. We had to. I glanced out the window at the little monsters now collapsed on the grass, pointing up at the clouds in the sky. I could picture their voices calling out the shapes, knew that I would do literally anything for them.

I could fix my marriage.

For them.

For me.