Carter comes to stand behind me. “You’re worse than Shay. At least she has whole-wheat bread and stuff for sandwiches most of the time.” He pulls open my freezer and fridge, then nods to the stool. “Sit. I’ll cook, and you can fill me in on the lesser-known details of Teagan Chopra.”

I open my mouth to protest then decide not to. I don’t know if Carter is any good in the kitchen, and that does seem like something I should know. “Okay, you know I have one sister, younger. Her name is Saanvi.”

“And her fiancé?” he asks. “Leroy?”

“Liam.” I’m honestly impressed that he’s even that close. I don’t remember talking about Liam, but I’m sure I have. He came to Jackson Harbor last spring to help Saanvi finalize some wedding details, but I’ve never had the chance to introduce either of them to my friends.

Carter nods as he pulls a package of chicken breasts from the fridge. “And you like Liam?”

I have to smile at the question in his voice. Given how protective I am of Saanvi, maybe it’s odd for me to love her guy so much. “Once I would’ve thought no one was good enough for my baby sister,” I admit. “But when she started dating Liam, I realized it isn’t about whether he’s good enough—it’s about how happy he makes her. How much better her life is when he’s in it.”

“I like that.” He puts a pan on the stove and drizzles it with oil, letting it warm while he pulls out a cutting board and knife. “I guess I feel the same about my brothers. I want them to be happy, and if the women they marry bring them joy, then I approve.”

“The KonMari method, but for spouses.”

He laughs, and I watch as he butterflies the chicken with the smooth, steady movements of someone who’s done it a hundred times. “I guess so. And your parents? They’re still together, right?”

“LouAnn and Kamal. Yes. They’re both doctors—Mom’s an OBGYN, and Dad’s a general surgeon.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that. Did you feel pressured to go to med school?”

“Not at all. They love what they do, but since they live it, they know the downsides of the career. They wish I’d become an NP and will probably bring it up at least three times while they’re in town, but I’ve become adept at ignoring them.”

The chicken sizzles as Carter places it into the bubbling oil. “NP?”

“Nurse practitioner. I’d have to go back to school, but it would mean more pay. It’s a hard pass for me. I don’t want to get stuck working in an urgent-care clinic. I love the hospital, and there’s not a lot of opportunities for NPs working there.” I cock my head as he grabs an apple out of the basket, washes it, and starts slicing on a clean cutting board. “What are you making?”

He looks up from his work and grins. “You had some Havarti in there. I thought I’d make apple-and-cheese-stuffed chicken.”