out as much, and I don’t even know where this Inn is.”
Leah folded her arms and balanced her elbows on the table. Also let out a disgruntled humpf. “Well, damn.”
Not really the reaction Sophie expected. “What?”
Leah reached over and scooped up the photos. “Beck said the same thing.”
He started grabbing things out of the fridge. Those impressive arms held containers of butter and jelly, plus cartons of milk and juice. He dumped it all in the middle of the table. “I actually gave you a list of reasons why number four was the right one.”
“Yeah, like ten of them.” She shifted the breakfast items around, opening jars and clicking off lids.
Since it looked like they were on the verge of a homemade family breakfast, Sophie picked up the coffee Leah poured, ready to make a quick exit. But a question nagged at her. “Isn’t it a good thing if we both pick the same ad?”
“You’d think.” Beck reached over Leah’s shoulder and put the heaping plate of toast right in front of Sophie.
She inhaled and her mouth watered a little. Something about the fresh scent of warm bread made her want to forget about the big kitchen search . . . and her addiction to carbs. Not that she could stomp on floorboards now anyway. Food or no, Beck and Leah would pick up on that right away.
“This is an informal ad study with you all as my test audience. It just so happens, you two and Declan said the same thing and somehow missed the awesomeness of number three.” Leah’s frown morphed into a wide smile when Beck set a plate of eggs in front of her. “Thank you.”
“Which is her charming way of saying she wanted number three,” he said before heading back to the counter.
Oh my God, was that bacon?
Sophie had no idea how she’d missed that amazing smell, all crisp and salty, until right now. Now that it wafted around her, she had to fight the urge to snatch a strip off the edge of Leah’s plate.
Sophie tried to find a safe topic, one that didn’t revolve around stealing food. But, man, when bacon entered the picture it was hard to think about anything else. Especially when Leah left it unattended while she slipped a napkin into her lap.
Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate
. To get there, Sophie focused on the ads or whatever they were. “Did you design the one we both like?”
“I designed them all.” And then Leah munched on the bacon.
Sophie seriously considered diving across the table. Yeah, that wouldn’t be weird or anything.
She cleared her throat and tried to convince her brain the granola bar she ate each morning tasted good. “Then why are you upset about—”
Beck came around the butcher block island one last time. He held two plates. One thudded on the table in front of Sophie. He carried the other one with him and took his seat perpendicular to her at the head.
She glanced at the crisp bacon strips and then to Beck. She forced the words out. “You don’t need to feed me.”
He held up a fork to her, balancing it on the tip. “You never eat.”
She had a pair of jeans that suggested otherwise. “That’s clearly not true.”
“He’s right.” Leah buttered several pieces of toast then handed them out. “I’ve never seen you sit down for a meal with us. We’re not that scary . . . well, most of us aren’t.”
Sophie drew in a long breath, trying to get her brain clicking in normal time again. Beck went through his usual morning routine, preparing food and making sure everyone had what they needed. And this time he included her. No fanfare. No arguing. He acted like he did it every day, and for Leah and his brothers he did. Just not Sophie.
She was confused and more than a little touched. It had been a long time since anyone watched over her. Her aunt and uncle gave a shy and depressed little girl all they could—support, the necessities and love. But anxiety continued to thump inside Sophie. Some days just out of hearing and tucked away in a dark, walled-off
Leah folded her arms and balanced her elbows on the table. Also let out a disgruntled humpf. “Well, damn.”
Not really the reaction Sophie expected. “What?”
Leah reached over and scooped up the photos. “Beck said the same thing.”
He started grabbing things out of the fridge. Those impressive arms held containers of butter and jelly, plus cartons of milk and juice. He dumped it all in the middle of the table. “I actually gave you a list of reasons why number four was the right one.”
“Yeah, like ten of them.” She shifted the breakfast items around, opening jars and clicking off lids.
Since it looked like they were on the verge of a homemade family breakfast, Sophie picked up the coffee Leah poured, ready to make a quick exit. But a question nagged at her. “Isn’t it a good thing if we both pick the same ad?”
“You’d think.” Beck reached over Leah’s shoulder and put the heaping plate of toast right in front of Sophie.
She inhaled and her mouth watered a little. Something about the fresh scent of warm bread made her want to forget about the big kitchen search . . . and her addiction to carbs. Not that she could stomp on floorboards now anyway. Food or no, Beck and Leah would pick up on that right away.
“This is an informal ad study with you all as my test audience. It just so happens, you two and Declan said the same thing and somehow missed the awesomeness of number three.” Leah’s frown morphed into a wide smile when Beck set a plate of eggs in front of her. “Thank you.”
“Which is her charming way of saying she wanted number three,” he said before heading back to the counter.
Oh my God, was that bacon?
Sophie had no idea how she’d missed that amazing smell, all crisp and salty, until right now. Now that it wafted around her, she had to fight the urge to snatch a strip off the edge of Leah’s plate.
Sophie tried to find a safe topic, one that didn’t revolve around stealing food. But, man, when bacon entered the picture it was hard to think about anything else. Especially when Leah left it unattended while she slipped a napkin into her lap.
Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate
. To get there, Sophie focused on the ads or whatever they were. “Did you design the one we both like?”
“I designed them all.” And then Leah munched on the bacon.
Sophie seriously considered diving across the table. Yeah, that wouldn’t be weird or anything.
She cleared her throat and tried to convince her brain the granola bar she ate each morning tasted good. “Then why are you upset about—”
Beck came around the butcher block island one last time. He held two plates. One thudded on the table in front of Sophie. He carried the other one with him and took his seat perpendicular to her at the head.
She glanced at the crisp bacon strips and then to Beck. She forced the words out. “You don’t need to feed me.”
He held up a fork to her, balancing it on the tip. “You never eat.”
She had a pair of jeans that suggested otherwise. “That’s clearly not true.”
“He’s right.” Leah buttered several pieces of toast then handed them out. “I’ve never seen you sit down for a meal with us. We’re not that scary . . . well, most of us aren’t.”
Sophie drew in a long breath, trying to get her brain clicking in normal time again. Beck went through his usual morning routine, preparing food and making sure everyone had what they needed. And this time he included her. No fanfare. No arguing. He acted like he did it every day, and for Leah and his brothers he did. Just not Sophie.
She was confused and more than a little touched. It had been a long time since anyone watched over her. Her aunt and uncle gave a shy and depressed little girl all they could—support, the necessities and love. But anxiety continued to thump inside Sophie. Some days just out of hearing and tucked away in a dark, walled-off
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