Colby had stopped asking about their pregnancy status back in April. Now all she could do was pray for her brother and sister-in-law. Parenting required a kind of bravery Colby didn’t yet have, but she’d love a niece or nephew.
“Besides,” Sara continued, her startlingly sky-blue eyes filled with mischief, “you need it. You’ve been jumpy tonight, and it’s not because Hunter called you here to sign those new partnership documents.”
“I’m not jumpy.” Colby sipped the chilled wine, aware that she had, in fact, been jumpy, especially when forced to watch Gentry’s coquettish behavior toward Alec. Trust Sara’s uncanny ability to sniff out sexual tension like a foraging bear. Colby had admitted her ill-advised attraction to herself, but she could resist it in favor of smart choices. If only Hunter hadn’t invited those two to dinner. “But I am a little anxious. Taking on all that risk just to avoid answering to Hunter is a big leap,” she teased.
“I don’t blame you,” Sara commiserated. “He can be a dictator.”
“One you adore.” Colby envied her brother’s solid marriage. If she could be guaranteed their kind of steady love and respect, maybe she’d risk another try.
“Most of the time, anyway.” Sara quickly unwound and readjusted the loose knot of sandy-blonde hair piled on top of her head. Her generous, wide mouth turned upward in a knowing smile. That Julia Roberts smile might be Sara’s best feature. “But you don’t fool me. Alec has you worked up.”
Sara grinned like she’d just thrown a bull’s-eye, but Colby refused to cop to that suspicion. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Oh, come on. In all the years I’ve known you both, I’ve never seen you so aware of him before.” Sara backhanded Colby’s arm. “Don’t worry, they can’t hear us from the patio while Gentry’s yakking.”
Colby didn’t need that reminder. Gentry, in her skimpy, cleavage-baring black romper and high-heeled sandals. As if her laughing, devil-may-care sister needed any help making herself more appealing than other mere mortals.
Oh, dammit. Colby would not allow herself to feel jealous of her sister. Or possessive of Alec. She must be unhinged, because nothing else explained why she didn’t run in the opposite direction after witnessing his Jekyll and Hyde transformations several times this past week.
“I’m not aware of him, for Pete’s sake.” Of course, she was aware that he’d brought her mom some chocolate éclairs two nights ago, and Colby hadn’t even encouraged that visit. Moreover, he’d stayed and chatted for a half hour, which had thrilled her mom. How could Colby not be grateful? She’d also caught him consoling Margo, the entremetier, after she’d had an argument with her husband. Glimpses of Alec’s finer points let her gloss over his bad behavior, until she reminded herself of where that kind of thinking had gotten her in the past. “Dinner was great, but you’re brave to cook for Alec.”
“I’ve cooked for him dozens of times. He doesn’t scare me.” Sara’s expression grew pensive. “In fact, I feel sorry for him. He’s still grieving, even if he won’t talk about it with me or Hunter.”
“Considering the fact that he and Joe weren’t that close as adults, I’m surprised it’s hit him so hard for this long.”
Alec had turned the other cheek against Joe’s snarky remarks for years. She’d admired his maturity and assumed Joe would grow up and stop after high school. Then Alec was in Europe, and when he returned, he was so busy with his restaurant she barely saw him. At that point, she’d written most of Joe’s sarcasm off as jealousy, because no one could dispute Alec’s success.
“That’s probably exactly why it’s so hard.” Sara’s gaze turned distant as she smoothed her hand along the farm table she and Hunter had purchased at some antique shop a few years ago. “He’ll never get the chance to resolve anything with Joe.”
Colby knew how that kind of remorse poisoned the soul. If Mark hadn’t known that she’d been considering leaving him, maybe he wouldn’t have completely given up on life. That particular “what if” always formed a thick lump in her throat.
She’d never know the answer, and she’d never be able to make it right. Her inadvertent role in his suicide taught her that she could never predict the ripple effect of any choice, which made every choice seem more dangerous.
Another thing she now knew—something had hardened Alec. Part of her wanted to know what that was, but another part dreaded the truth. Past experiences had etched her consciousness with fear. Fear of never trusting whether the next man she might love would also be someone so different from whom she believed him to be. Fear of making another mistake and living another lie.