Migraines? She picked through her memory banks and came up dry. “Okay. Then one of whatever she usually drinks.”

“You got it, kiddo.”

Snagging the table the couple had abandoned, she put her back to the bar so she wouldn’t have to watch Man Mountain smolder at her all night. She blew out a breath and congratulated herself on not acting like a terrified woman mid-nervous breakdown, then realized her foot was tapping out a frantic beat against the floor.

She jumped at a sudden bark of laughter behind her and pinched her eyes closed.

Coming apart at the seams was not an option at this point. Besides, if she was going to have a mini-breakdown, she wouldn’t do it in front of Brick Freaking Callan…who was most definitely staring at her right now. She hated being so stupidly aware of the man.

“You’re here.”

Remi nearly fell out of her chair before realizing that her sister had materialized next to the table.

“I thought I’d beat you here,” Kimber said, shrugging out of a hunter green parka. She wore an ivory hat over her hair that she’d loosely braided. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but the winter wind had tinged her cheeks a delicate pink. She looked tired, pretty, and annoyed.

Remi comforted herself with the fact that it hadn’t been anything she’d done. At least not this time.

“I was on time for once,” she said as Kimber slipped into the chair across from her.

“Ladies.” Darius of the impeccable timing appeared with their drinks.

“My hero,” Kimber said, feigning a swoon.

“Damn. It is nice to see the Ford sisters reunited,” he said.

“It’s good to be in the same place,” Remi agreed.

Kimber’s response was cut off by her phone vibrating on the table. Remi caught a glimpse of Kyle’s name on the screen before her sister hit ignore and flipped the phone over.

“If you two need anything, wave me down. Specials are on the board,” Darius said, pointing at a chalkboard that looked like a third-grader had attacked it with chalk.

Neither man, it turned out, had the artistic talent for lettering. Their barely legible specials boards had become part of the lure of the place.

When he left, Remi sampled her All the Alcohol drink. It tasted like a tropical version of a Long Island iced tea. Delicious and deadly. “So, Darius was saying something about you getting migraines,” she began.

Kimber rolled her eyes. “What about them?”

She was out of sync, like she was dancing just off the beat and couldn’t quite catch up with her sister’s metronome. They’d always been a little out of step, but when they were growing up, Kimber had made an effort to help her catch up.

“I don’t know,” she said, feeling awkward. “I guess, when did they start?”

“They started about two years ago, and they’re triggered by stress, which apparently a boring stay at home mother finds in monotonous household chores and the daily ins and outs of raising human beings. Do you like it when people ask you about your asthma all the time?” Kimber asked pointedly, picking up her vodka and soda.