“I knew that.”
“And you’re getting the strawberry.”
“I am.” His grin broadened. He was so toying with me. Why?
“Can you also get a slice of lemon meringue? So I don’t look uncouth. But I also want a bite… or two of your strawberry pie.”
He threw his head back, chuckling. “Is that all you want? Nothing more?”
“Stop teasing me,” I whisper-shouted, grateful it was only the two of us on the veranda. “It’s dessert, Will.Dessert.” I made a pouty lip.
“Damn, you’re working hard. You know you can have some of mine, but I want to see a slice of all three on your plate when we bring the others home. Okay? Those are my conditions.”
“What?” I threw my arms around his neck, touching my nose to his.
“It’s pie, baby.Dessert. We always have the same thing every year. I asked my mom to order an extra of each for us to take home…just for you.”
“Mmm, I love you.” I pecked kisses over his lips and chin.
“Still want me to get the lemon?”
“Absolutely! I can’t wait until we get home tonight.”
He roared with laughter. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go get drunk on pie.” Will took my hand and kissed it.
The living room was tastefully decorated in spring colors. Arrangements of yellow, pink, and lilac tulips graced the end tables. Their green stems captured my eye through the crystal vases housing them. Brass bunnies and Fabergé eggs completed the presentation. Although, perhaps the bunnies were gold and not brass.
Nothing Claire had in her home was a knock-off, just as there was nothing fake about her. I liked her a lot, and I loved how she changed the décor to match the season.
I’d be the same way… someday.
We’d all settled in with our dessert plates in hand, various conversations floating in the air, when a man suddenly bounded into the room.
“Did you save me some pie?” He laughed, a cheerful smile and arms open wide.
“Henry!” Will’s Uncle Peter exclaimed, rushing to him. “My boy, how the hell are you?” He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him.
Oh, this guy was tall and handsome. His brown hair was cut close on the sides, long on top and swept to the side, and he sported a sexy five-o’clock shadow. I could tell he had a great body beneath his jeans and white button-down oxford shirt, casual yet high quality. And he had a smile that lit up the room. If only I could see behind his shades. If I followed his gaze, it led straight to…
Lily. My sweet friend’s cheeks were pink. I could see her breathing rapidly with intrigue.
“Sorry to intrude without calling ahead. Thought I’d surprise dear old Dad here.” He removed his glasses, and yup, his eyes were on Lily.
“Not at all,” Claire replied, hugging Henry next. “You’re always welcomed, dear.”
One by one, Henry greeted family members. Friendly banter and laughter took place. Once he made his way to Will and me, his grin turned into a smirk.
“Cousin.” Will stood with his hand out. Henry accepted but pulled Will in for a hug. “It’s good to see you. Missed you at Christmas.”
“Europe called… and so did my mother,” Henry whispered as if mentioning her was taboo.
I understood. I never brought up my parents’ history if they were in earshot. I appreciated Henry’s tact.
One late night over a bottle of Chianti, Will had told me the story behind Henry, how his mother wasn’t viewed as suitable to be a St. James. They had paid her one million dollars to sign away her parental rights so Henry could be raised by the family. I’d been much too drunk to properly react when Will had told me the tale, but I thought about him andheroften.
How could she take the money and give her son away? Did Peter not love her? I wondered, given the fact he’d never married.
Seeing Henry now made it all real, and my heart ached for him. For them.