Yours Truly(99)

He wrapped me up in a big bear hug, rubbing his knuckles across the top of my head when he finished. Yup. If I had to marry that man, I would probably shoot him walking down the aisle.

“Let me go,” I said after squeezing him back. “Now I have to wash my hands again!”

“Did you hear our little Izzy was out on a date?” Devon asked Lucas, his voice far too innocent. I rolled my eyes. This is why I stopped bringing my dates home.

“A date?” Lucas grinned and batted his eyelashes at me. “When do we get to meet him? Is he coming for dinner?”

“No and no,” I told him, pulling out the chopping board. “Hand me the cooking oil so I can start the fish.”

“Come on, Izzy,” Devon said pulling out the frying pan without being asked. “We're just looking out for you.”

“I know.” I turned and looked at the two of them. The three of us couldn't have looked more physically different, but I loved them both as if they were my own flesh and blood. “And I appreciate the two of you being SO concerned, but as much as I love having you both involved in my love life... no.”

Devon laughed and elbowed Lucas in the ribs. “She thinks we're trouble,” he whispered loud enough for the next island to hear.

“On a different topic,” I changed the subject, glaring at both of them, “have you guys heard anything about the Grove? I haven't seen Doc yet today.”

Both of them shook their heads.

“Nothing so far. There's some sort of new snafu he's having to navigate,” Lucas said with a shrug. “Doc's going to be glad you're making tacos. It might actually cheer him up after dealing with lawyers all day.”

I frowned and tested the oil before putting the fish in. The fish sputtered in the oil, giving the room the delicious scent of cooking herbs and spices. Both boys' mouths were visibly watering. It was a good thing I had a lot of fish to cook.

“Do I smell someone making tacos?” Brooke asked, joining the three of us in the small kitchen. With two people, the kitchen was cozy. With three, it was slightly crowded. With four, it was claustrophobic.

“Yup. A batch big enough for eighteen,” I answered. Brooke stood between Lucas and Devon, playing with a tendril of hair from her ponytail. I did a double-take. She was wearing makeup. Not much, but just a little mascara and eye shadow. I wondered when she had put that on, especially since she had probably been out on a boat all day.

I went to get the big kitchen knife, but Devon was standing directly in front of the butcher’s block. I cleared my throat and he blushed slightly, and shuffled to the side. Unfortunately, since everyone had decided to cram into the kitchen, he bumped into Brooke, knocking her off balance.

Brooke stumbled and would have fallen, but Lucas caught her, his hands wrapping around her shoulders to keep her upright. She giggled, and he didn't release her right away. Instead, Lucas got a stupid-happy smile on his face while Brooke fluttered her eyelashes and apologized.

I looked over at Devon and raised my eyebrows, asking him a silent “What's going on here?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head, telling me he didn't have a clue, but saw it too. Something was going on between Lucas and Brooke.

I put the onion on the chopping board and then turned to face the three non-helping adults in the kitchen. It was far too crowded for four people, especially when two were so busy flirting they wouldn't have noticed if their shirts caught fire. “All right. Either you help me chop, or you get out of the kitchen.” I held up the knife in my hand.

“I think I hear the sharks whining,” Devon said quickly, heading to the back door. “I'd better go feed them.”

“Right. Be sure to tell them to clean their rooms while you're at it,” I said sarcastically. I knew he was really off to see his soon-to-be wife. “Tell Mimi dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”

“Will do,” he called back, slamming the screen door behind him. I turned to face the remaining non-helpers.

“I gotta go finish... uh... unpacking. Yeah, unpacking,” Lucas stammered, backing away slowly and eyeing my knife. I stuck my tongue out at him as he ducked into the living room.

Brooke went to the sink and washed her hands before going to the chopping board to peel the onion I had set there. I let her have that knife as I pulled out another and started on dissecting the mango.

“So, what's up with you and Lucas?” I asked innocently.

Brooke fumbled with the onion, nearly dropping it on the floor. She recovered it at the last second and set it down. She then flipped her hair over her shoulder like nothing had happened. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Brooke,” I said. I set my knife down and put my hands together under my chin and did an imitation of her high-pitched giggle. “Help me, Lucas, I fell!”