Page 44 of Offside and Off-Limits
I resume my task, stirring the sauce and adding the parmesan cheese. “You’re right across social media, huh?”
“I guess. I used it with my CFS to reach out to others, and it became an important part of my healing process.”
“Like the Chronic Warriors.”
“Exactly. Connection with others can show us we’re not alone. But then you know that already, hence your coming tonight.”
I look up at her. “You know, I said you were a triple threat, but I think you’re actually quadruple.”
“Why?”
I count them off on my fingers. “Because not only are you a total babe, a mom, and a social media expert, but you’re smart, too.”
“Thanks?” she says with a laugh, and I watch for that familiar cheek flush, and when it happens I want to punch the air.
Either that or kiss her.
Man, do I want to kiss her.
But instead, we work side by side to make fettuccini carbonara as though cooking together is something we’ve done for an eternity, rather than just this one time.
It feels nice. Homey. A guy could get used to having a woman like Clara Johnson around.
I serve up the food, keeping some behind for her kids, and we chat about inconsequential things as we eat, and I learn more about this woman who can knock the air right out of me with just one look.
I catalogue the facts in my mind as she speaks, everything from her favorite music to the fact she was a cheerleader in high school—which creates a new image in my head to rival even the hot librarian.
Just as I insist that I clear the table, the doorbell rings and Clara springs to her feet. “That’ll be Keira and the kids. Do you mind if I get it?”
“Be my guest.”
I hear them before I see them, their excitement at seeing their mom and telling her about the things they’ve been up to filling the air. I wipe my hands on a towel and make my way around the counter to greet them.
“Hey, Benny,” I say when I spot my little comic buddy. I hold out my hand for a low high five, which he takes with enthusiasm. “You worked it out yet that Zara Kazan is the true hero ofThe Timekeeper Chronicles?”
“No way! It’s Max,” he says vehemently, sticking to his favorite.
I smile at the pretty blonde woman and the girl, who looks a lot like her mom and her aunt. “Hey, I’m Cade,” I say.
“I’m Keira Roberts, and this is Hannah,” she replies, her hands on Hannah’s shoulders.
“Hey guys. Great to meet you,” I say, shaking Keira’s hand and high fiving Hannah, who does so more cautiously than her brother.
The family resemblance is strong, each person with varying shades of blond hair, and all with those big piercing blue eyes Clara possesses.
“It’s so kind of you to have not only Hannah and Benny, but Clara, too,” Keira says, and I think I detect a playful tone in her voice.
“Your sister is such a handful,” I tease, my gaze flashing to Clara’s.
Keira's blonde and pretty, objectively speaking, and she and Clara could pass for twins at a pinch. Same hair, same delicate features, same blue eyes. But where Keira's smile is perfectly nice, Clara's smile hits me like a sucker punch to the solar plexus.
Keira’s eyes brighten. “That she is. Hey, I’m sorry to drop and run, but I’ve gotta go,” Keira says, giving her sister a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks again, sis,” Clara says.
“As long as you two had a good time, then it’s all worth it,” Keira replies, and Clara throws her a warning look that makes me chuckle.
“We’ve had a wonderful time. Right, Clara?” I say, and Keira nudges her sister, who looks totally mortified by the conversation.
