“I’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice. “I just logged in and she’d messaged, and she seemed like your type, that was all.”
“And I still appreciate you caring, but you have got to let it go.”
She pouted. “Okay, okay, fine.”
“And I’m changing the password.”
Now she really pouted. “Fine. You suck.”
“I know. I’m the worst. When’s that lasagna ready?”
“Ugh. You only love me for my food.” She walked through to the living room.
I joined her in time to see her drop herself on the sofa while expertly not spilling any wine. “Wrong. If I wanted someone for their food, I’d have shacked up with Saylor. She can cook.”
She shot me a look. “You’d murder each other in twenty-four hours.” She dropped her head back and looked up at the ceiling.
Something was wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
“Who said anything is wrong?”
“You have food in the oven up the street yet I come home from seeing Grandpa to see you on my front porch, reading, when there are a thousand other places you could be. Also, you have a key.”
“Has Josh said anything to you?”
Shit.
I knew where this was going.
“About what?” I scooted her feet off the sofa and sat down with her. “Is something going on with you two?”
“I don’t know.” She scooted to sit up straight and put the wine on the table. “He’s been… weird. I know there’s nothing going on with his family, and if there was, he’d have told me.”
“He hasn’t said anything to me. Maybe he’s just having an off day. We’ve been working to the bone at Seb’s place doing this barn conversion.”
“I know.” She hugged one knee to her chest and peered over at me. “Colton, I’m not worried he’s going to break up with me.”
“Okay…” I paused. “Then what are you asking me?”
“I’ve watched enough movies and read enough books to know that a guy acting suspicious is one of two things. He’s either breaking up with his girlfriend or he’s planning on proposing to her.”
I said nothing.
“Given that I’ve ruled out him breaking up with me, that leaves the other option.” She fixed me with a look. “He’s still your best friend. If you knew something, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
I laughed. “Kins, I love you, but I have no idea what’s going on. If he’s thinking of something like that, he hasn’t told me.”
“You’d tell me if he’d mentioned it, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Colton!”
“What?” I laughed again. “I wouldn’t say a thing, because anything he would have told me would have been in confidence. I’m sorry, sis, but I don’t know anything anyway.”
My pants were about to go up in flames.
She stared at me. “Are you sure?”
I nodded as earnestly as I could without making it obvious I was lying through my teeth. “I don’t know anything. But I do have a question.”
“What?”
“Why do you look absolutely terrified of the idea that he might ask you to marry him?”
She moved uncomfortably. “I’m not terrified. I… I think a part of me always assumed that this would end, and we haven’t really been together that long, so—”
“Stop.” I leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Kinsley, stop it. Josh is going nowhere. He loves you, enough that he would have risked almost thirty years of friendship to be with you.”
She swallowed.
“And no, you haven’t been together that long. It’s barely even a year. But that doesn’t matter. You’ve known him your entire life, and if he is proposing to you, it’s going to be the most natural thing in the world for you. All right?”
“You’re not mad about the idea of it?”
“Let’s think: he marries you or he breaks your heart. Which one am I likely to break his nose over?”
She smiled, dipping her head. “Dating me in general.”
“Low blow, sis, low blow.”
“I know, but it felt good.” She sat up with a grin. “Okay, well, thank you. I need to go check that lasagna, but I’ll bring you the leftovers.”
“Did you make garlic bread?” I asked as she got up and picked her book back up.
“Yes. I did.” She smiled and headed out. “Oh, Colt?”
“Yeah?”
“At least look on that dating website, would you?” She hugged the book to her chest. “I think she’d be good for you.”
I sighed. “I’ll look tonight.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes were bright and warm, and she dipped her head as she turned away to leave.
I didn’t breathe easy until I’d heard the front door click. Then, I eyed my laptop.
Fuck it.
I pulled it over and opened the lid, letting it boot up, then logged into the stupid dating website she’d signed me up to.
A quick navigation to the messages told me my sister hadn’t been lying. The woman who’d messaged was relatively local, a fitness instructor at a gym in Dartree Mountain, loved to hike and cook, and was, to use Kinsley’s word, ‘cute.’