“I just love you,” I tell her.
“I just love you, too,” she says, smiling and winking at me.
“I want you to be proud of me. I want all the sacrifices you’ve made for me to be worth it.”
At this, her smile falters. Her expression dims and she regards me with skepticism. “What sacri
fices are we talking about? I already am proud of you, Laurel. Where is this coming from?”
“I know you weren’t happy that I slept with Rafe.”
“Oh.” She rolls her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. “Honey, that’s water under the bridge. It’s over, it’s done. It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t judging you, I was just worried. Getting entangled with any of the Morelli men is a mistake, and I wanted to save you from making it.”
I raise an eyebrow at her declaration. “You married one of them.”
She rolls her eyes. “I realize that, but I pulled him out first. Rafe is the anti-Vince. There’s no pulling that one out, and if you can’t pull them out, they pull you in. They ruin your life. Ask Vince, he’ll tell you.” She shakes her head, stirring the macaroni mixture. “I know they’re sexy beasts, but they’re soul stealers, every last one of them.”
I understand she meant that rhetorically and I don’t really want to, but perhaps I should talk to Vince. I already have a pretty good idea of what Carly will tell me if I appeal to her for advice about my predicament, but maybe I should listen to the male perspective. Lacking a father, brother, or any other paternal family figures, my brother-in-law is the closest thing I have.
Besides, he’s Rafe’s cousin. Surely if anyone would have some insight, he would.
2
Laurel
The food on the grill sizzles, flames jumping beneath the wrought-iron rack. My brother-in-law reaches for the tongs, then sets about flipping over each slice of zucchini.
“Five minutes ago you hated food, now you’re so famished you gotta stand here and watch me cook?”
I tear my gaze from the food and look up at Vince. “I’m not here for the food; I’m here for the family time. Can’t a girl just enjoy her favorite brother-in-law’s company?”
He slides a dry look my way. “I’m your only brother-in-law.”
“Then you don’t have to worry about competition,” I point out.
“What do you want?” he asks, wily enough to see through me.
Damn, I was being so slick, too.
I smile faintly at my own joke before remembering the predicament I’m in. Dumbass girls who find themselves in dumbass situations like these can’t afford smiles. We get scarlet letters sewn onto our garments and waste away in the shame we’ve brought on our families.
Vince quirks an eyebrow since I still haven’t spoken.
I sigh. “All right. I have some questions.”
“All right,” he says, already tentative.
“Okay, so you know I’m a student of science,” I begin.
Nodding once, he says, “Chemistry, right?”
“Correct. And in preparation for my genetics class in the fall semester, I’m doing a summer workshop—online, just for extra credit.”
This is all bullshit, but I don’t expect him to question me. He surprises me by frowning. “I’m no scholar, but wouldn’t genetics fall under the umbrella of biology?”
“It’s science,” I say, waving him off. “I have to take a bunch of scientific classes, not just one type. There are technically chemistry courses that—just, never mind, that’s not important. But since it’s extra credit, the teacher has leeway on the project and she added a sociological component.”
I’m completely crossing schools now, but thankfully my sister’s husband did not attend college, and doesn’t question this oddity. “Okay.”