Page 55 of Blame It On the Lattes

“Well, we thought for a moment we would have to close Sugar Faced Bar down after our top patron stopped coming in,” Aiden teased.

I rolled my eyes and started a small pot of coffee before texting Avery to let her know I would be home a little late.

“You know how busy this time of year gets around here,” I said with my back to him, not wanting him to see the lie sitting on my lips.

“Yeah. It definitely gets busy when you’re balancing work with falling in love with your little sister’s best friend and her daughter,” he countered with a hint of humor.

I let my head fall forward, knowing I was busted. I turned around and looked at my best friend.

“I wasn’t trying to fall in love with her. It kinda just happened.”

“I know. It happens to the best of us. But I’m seriously happy for you. Maybe after things settle down after the holidays, we can all do dinner, and I can get to know them.”

“I would like that, and I’m sure Avery would too.”

I didn’t want to talk about how I didn’t know what the future held or if she would even still be here after the New Year. I finished his drink and then cleaned up the mess while he sneakily tried to pay for it. I grabbed the twenty he left and shoved it back in his hand as we walked out and locked up for the second time.

“I’m still doing Christmas dinner at the bar if you want to join us,” Aiden said. “Avery and Kennedy are more than welcome as well.”

“I’ll talk to her and let you know,” I replied, swallowing the ball of emotion sitting in my throat. “Have fun tonight. Be sure to have Jackie record it if you get wasted and decide to sing Celine Dion again.”

“Not in your lifetime,” he snorted. “I don’t sing anymore, and no amount of liquor will get me to start again.”

I shook my head and laughed as I climbed into my truck and headed home.

Twenty-Nine

Avery

“Do you need help?”I asked as Kennedy stood at the sink on a step stool and washed the veggies for the salad we were making for dinner.

“I got it, Momma.”

I grinned and checked on the pasta that was boiling on the stove before peeking into the oven to make sure the chicken and garlic bread weren’t burning.

I hadn’t cooked a meal like this in so long I was doubting my ability to make something edible. Sam had been cooking for us so much lately that I wanted to return the favor. We were initially supposed to go to his parent’s house for Sunday dinner, but they needed a little more time to finish their Christmas shopping.

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