“I am, but I can help out here.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the prospect of being an uncle.”
“Uncle Gabe has a nice ring to it, does it? Come on. Let’s see what’s happening with dinner.”
They joined Jess, the McCaffreys and Felicity in the kitchen and helped set up dinner outside on the patio, at a long table with a sweeping umbrella. It was simple fare: grilled chicken, fresh local corn on the cob, salad and peach pie.
Jess, not yet visibly pregnant, sat next to her older sister, both looking healthy and happy. They had no trouble eating dinner that Gabe could see. As Mark brought out the pie, Felicity eyed him and then Gabe. “What are you doing?” Gabe asked her.
“Noticing the similarities between you and Mark. I don’t think I ever paid attention. Jess and Olivia are obviously sisters and you two are obviously brothers.”
“Mark’s taller and leaner,” Gabe said.
“He’s more precise in his mannerisms and thinking, too. You can see how he became an architect. You’re more abrupt and action-oriented. A natural start-up entrepreneur.”
“Ah, so that’s it.”
She smiled. “Let’s just say I’m glad Mark’s the one who designed my house. But you two have so much in common, too. Coloring, your smiles, your eyes. Brothers.”
Gabe had expected a few digs at him, given their parting three years ago, but maybe their dip in the river had helped. He’d initiated staying with her in part because he wanted closure on their relationship. They’d never cleared the air. They’d moved on with their lives. The lingering feelings from their falling-out weren’t impeding them, but it still felt like unfinished business. Now that she was living in Knights Bridge—on his grandfather’s old campsite—it was time to smooth any ripples in the waters between them.
Olivia and Jess pulled everyone into a conversation on the various merits of peach pie, peach cobbler, peach shortcake and just a fresh, perfect peach. There was no shortage of good-natured opinions. It was the sort of pleasant discussion on a lazy summer evening Gabe hadn’t been a part of in ages. He thought he might get restless or bored, but he didn’t. He smiled to himself. He had a strong opinion about peaches.
The Frost sisters struck Gabe as content with their lives, not just because they were settled into good marriages, expecting their first babies, but because they were grabbing hold of their own hopes and dreams.
After dinner, Gabe joined Dylan and Felicity in cleaning up the dishes. With the inaugural boot camp in the morning, it was an early night for everyone. No one seemed nervous, including Felicity. Gabe had done the driving, and she sat next to him, her window rolled down as she gazed out the window. “It’s a beautiful evening,” he said.
She nodded without looking at him. “It is.”
“Boot camp on your mind?”
“Not right now, no. I’m enjoying the scenery.”
It could be true. Gabe said nothing.
Back at her house, instead of going straight inside, he decided to build a fire in the fireplace his grandfather had built at the edge of the woods, above the river. “Would you mind?” he asked as Felicity came around to the front of his car.
“Not at all. There’s wood in the garage. Help yourself.”
“Great, thanks.”
“I haven’t used the fireplace since I moved in. I keep thinking I will, but I haven’t gotten around to it. Maybe when my niece and nephew spend the night. I’m happy Mark kept the fireplace when he built the house.” Felicity bit her lip. “You and Mark, I mean.”
“Demolishing it wasn’t an option either of us considered. If a fire turns out to be more work than I expect it will, I’ll skip it.” He narrowed his eyes on her, debating whether to say something—invite her to join him, something—but he merely pointed at the fireplace. “I’ll see how it goes.”
“I’ll grab some kindling and matches,” she said. “I keep some by the woodstove.”
She was off before he could thank her. He went into the garage and collected an armload of wood from a half cord neatly stacked along a wall, probably left over from winter when Mark and Jess had moved out. He carried the wood to the old brick fireplace and set it on the cracked cement that passed for a hearth.
Felicity returned with an armload of kindling, a box of matches and a faded patchwork quilt. “I thought you might want to sit out here for a bit,” she said, spreading the quilt on the grass.
Gabe arranged some of the kindling in the fireplace. “Join me?” he asked casually.
“Sure,” she said, the slightest hesitation in her tone. “Why not?”
They had a fire going in minutes. Felicity sat on the quilt and stretched out her legs. She’d kicked off her sandals and was barefoot, still in the maxi dress she’d worn to dinner. Gabe had on khakis and a polo shirt, and he slipped off his shoes before he sat next to her on the quilt. His left leg was so close to her right leg that she swore she could feel the warmth of his skin.
It was past dusk but not yet fully dark, the flames glowing against the silhouettes of trees and the glimpses of the river. “Talk to me about your life, Felicity,” Gabe said cheerfully as he leaned back on his elbows and stared at the fire. “Tell me what you’ve been up to the past three years. Working, going out on your own, buying a house, moving back here. I’d like to hear all of it—whatever you’ve a mind to tell me, anyway.”
She started tentatively, maybe harboring a touch of resentment that he didn’t know the details of her life. Maybe with more than a touch. But if that were the case, she got past it, and he thought it was because she wanted to tell him—and because he wanted to listen. Being a man of action, he had to remind himself not to pepper her with
