didn’t know that anymore, either.
“You ever make a promise to someone, positive you were doing the right thing, then live to regret it?”
Beside him, Becca let out a short, cynical laugh. “You have no idea.”
Chapter Four
The following evening, Cecelia paused at the edge of Evan and Malia’s kitchen. Nervous tension twisted in her stomach. Any other day, being there might have relaxed her. She adored the get-togethers, and the Morgans threw one for just about everything. They were always laid back and low-key, with lots of laughter and good food, and she could use a bit of both. But the thought of seeing Kyle had her stomach doing somersaults. After what happened between them, she had to face him, and she had to do it while telling his family she was pregnant. The thought of both scared her to death, because she didn’t know how to do either.
Luckily for her, Malia was the only one in the kitchen. She stood off to the right, in a blue halter top and a matching sarong skirt, chopping what looked to be pineapple. Her thick dark hair flowed to the middle of her back, and the rhythmic
thunk-thunk-thunk
of her knife hitting a wooden board filled the silence. From outside beyond the sliding glass doors some twenty feet in front of her, feminine laughter and the low hum of conversation drifted, along with children squealing and the luscious aroma of cooking meat.
Cecelia took a moment to draw a few cleansing breaths. Truth be told, she almost hadn’t come tonight. She didn’t know how she’d react to seeing Kyle after what happened the day before. Or how he would. She wasn’t sure she knew how to be around him anymore. A simple, albeit mind-blowing, kiss turned their entire relationship on its end. What did that tell her about him? Had his feelings for her changed? God, just the thought had her stomach flip-flopping again.
She’d come anyway, though, because, blood or not, these people were her family, too. Not only did they treat her like one of them, but they’d been through everything with her. Including Gran’s illness and death. Whatever they celebrated with this luau, she wanted to be there to support them.
“I hear you thinking back there, Ceci.” Malia turned, offering a warm smile, and waved a hand at her. “Why are you lingering? You don’t need an invitation to come in, sweetie.”
She offered an awkward smile and stepped into the space. “Hey, Lia. Just listening to see where everybody is. Has Kyle arrived yet?”
“Not yet.” Malia shook her head as she scooped the chunks of pineapple she’d chopped and deposited them into the hollowed-out rind. “So, you never told me why you two were fighting when I called last night. What’d he do now? He spout off about Jimmy again?”
At Malia’s innocent question, Cecelia’s heart skipped a panicky beat. Oh God. She’d irrationally hoped to avoid this conversation. She didn’t know what to tell anybody. There was no use denying it, though. One thing about the Morgans . . . they shared everything. It’s what she loved about them. Now, it meant she had to make up an excuse.
Deciding to stick close to the truth and go for the most obvious, she let out a heavy sigh. She’d have to tell them eventually. “Jimmy and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
Malia paused in her task and twisted at the waist to look back at her. Worry creased her brow. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. How come?”
Cecelia leaned back against the counter beside Malia. “Because he’s a jerk. Kyle was right.”
Malia pursed her lips and shook her head, going back to slicing up the pineapple.
“I told Kyle he needed to keep that to himself. It doesn’t help. Is that why you’re nervous? Waiting to see if he’s still mad? Evan likes to hold a grudge. He holds it in until he works it out in his head, but a kiss always melts his walls.” Malia shot a sassy wink over her shoulder.
Butterflies fluttered in Cecelia’s stomach as her mind flooded with thoughts
“You ever make a promise to someone, positive you were doing the right thing, then live to regret it?”
Beside him, Becca let out a short, cynical laugh. “You have no idea.”
Chapter Four
The following evening, Cecelia paused at the edge of Evan and Malia’s kitchen. Nervous tension twisted in her stomach. Any other day, being there might have relaxed her. She adored the get-togethers, and the Morgans threw one for just about everything. They were always laid back and low-key, with lots of laughter and good food, and she could use a bit of both. But the thought of seeing Kyle had her stomach doing somersaults. After what happened between them, she had to face him, and she had to do it while telling his family she was pregnant. The thought of both scared her to death, because she didn’t know how to do either.
Luckily for her, Malia was the only one in the kitchen. She stood off to the right, in a blue halter top and a matching sarong skirt, chopping what looked to be pineapple. Her thick dark hair flowed to the middle of her back, and the rhythmic
thunk-thunk-thunk
of her knife hitting a wooden board filled the silence. From outside beyond the sliding glass doors some twenty feet in front of her, feminine laughter and the low hum of conversation drifted, along with children squealing and the luscious aroma of cooking meat.
Cecelia took a moment to draw a few cleansing breaths. Truth be told, she almost hadn’t come tonight. She didn’t know how she’d react to seeing Kyle after what happened the day before. Or how he would. She wasn’t sure she knew how to be around him anymore. A simple, albeit mind-blowing, kiss turned their entire relationship on its end. What did that tell her about him? Had his feelings for her changed? God, just the thought had her stomach flip-flopping again.
She’d come anyway, though, because, blood or not, these people were her family, too. Not only did they treat her like one of them, but they’d been through everything with her. Including Gran’s illness and death. Whatever they celebrated with this luau, she wanted to be there to support them.
“I hear you thinking back there, Ceci.” Malia turned, offering a warm smile, and waved a hand at her. “Why are you lingering? You don’t need an invitation to come in, sweetie.”
She offered an awkward smile and stepped into the space. “Hey, Lia. Just listening to see where everybody is. Has Kyle arrived yet?”
“Not yet.” Malia shook her head as she scooped the chunks of pineapple she’d chopped and deposited them into the hollowed-out rind. “So, you never told me why you two were fighting when I called last night. What’d he do now? He spout off about Jimmy again?”
At Malia’s innocent question, Cecelia’s heart skipped a panicky beat. Oh God. She’d irrationally hoped to avoid this conversation. She didn’t know what to tell anybody. There was no use denying it, though. One thing about the Morgans . . . they shared everything. It’s what she loved about them. Now, it meant she had to make up an excuse.
Deciding to stick close to the truth and go for the most obvious, she let out a heavy sigh. She’d have to tell them eventually. “Jimmy and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
Malia paused in her task and twisted at the waist to look back at her. Worry creased her brow. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. How come?”
Cecelia leaned back against the counter beside Malia. “Because he’s a jerk. Kyle was right.”
Malia pursed her lips and shook her head, going back to slicing up the pineapple.
“I told Kyle he needed to keep that to himself. It doesn’t help. Is that why you’re nervous? Waiting to see if he’s still mad? Evan likes to hold a grudge. He holds it in until he works it out in his head, but a kiss always melts his walls.” Malia shot a sassy wink over her shoulder.
Butterflies fluttered in Cecelia’s stomach as her mind flooded with thoughts
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