EXCERPT:
Ignoring the surprise in the older sister’s eyes, he moved around to the side entrance so he could speak more privately with Josie.
Tessa moved with him and blocked his way into the booth. “Leave her alone.”
Nash spoke around her. “Can we talk?”
“No,” Tessa snapped.
Josie laughed without facing him. “Oh, now you want to talk?”
She picked up a knife and slit a pumpkin pie in half with one sure stroke. Probably wished it was his gut. Or lower. Judging by Tessa’s glare, she wouldn’t stop her, either. Lora had returned her attention to their paying customers after depositing his hundred in the cash box.
Tessa crossed her arms over her chest. “You need to leave.”
His stubborn streak took a defensive stand. “I’m waiting on my pie.”
“I got this,” Josie tossed over her shoulder.
“But I thought you were going to—”
Tessa broke off when Josie whipped her head around to meet her gaze. With obvious reluctance, the second oldest Sullivan moved back to the counter to help take orders.
He stepped inside the booth as Josie’s attention returned to the table in front of her. She spun the pie a quarter turn and sliced again as she accused, “You’re only eight years too late, Nash.”
“You’re right.”
Her hand wavered, then continued its motion with a swift jerk. He heard the cringe-inducing screech of aluminum on steel as the knife powered straight through the pie tin.
“Well, good for me. You’re one hell of a selfish sonofabitch, you know that?”
He didn’t deny it. Even though he knew he’d made the right decision back then, he’d screwed up the execution. “I was hoping we could sort this out like adults.”
She finished cutting the pie, then turned toward him, knife raised between them. Her smile was cold and nasty as she stepped closer. He took an involuntary step back and felt the side wall of the booth against his shoulder blades.
“As opposed to the coward you used to be?”
She was right about that, too, but that six inch knife in her hand was making him more nervous than the conversation they needed to have. “I, ah, had my reasons.”
“Too bad you couldn’t explain them in person back when it actually mattered. Or even over the phone the one time you bothered to call.”
She shortened the distance between them to less than a foot, putting the tip of that knife about three inches from the underside of his chin.
Sonofabitch, she’d changed all right. Feisty. Unforgiving.
~~~
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