We walked towards the front door arm in arm. I was almost calmed down. When we got past the garage and saw Seth sitting on a wooden bench, my fears eased even more. Seth stood up as if he had been waiting on us to arrive. He linked arms with me on the other side, and we marched forward towards the massive front door.

I felt a little like Dorothy going to see Oz, but at least we presented a united front. I was beyond touched that Seth had waited for us, likely knowing that this would be incredibly awkward for me.

When we reached the door, I looked back and forth between the two of them. They were so similar looking, both of them impossibly handsome. I was so grateful to have them both on my side. With them, I could face anything. “No time like the present,” I said as Sam lifted his hand to ring the bell. I still found it so odd that they had to knock at their parents’ home, especially when they were expected, but once again, I stopped myself from commenting on it.

Janice answered the door herself and gave her sons warm smiles and hugs. She stiffened noticeably when she made eye contact with me and forced a brittle smile across her lips. “Abigail.” She greeted me formally without any offer of a handshake or anything more.

“Hello, Mrs. Davis,” I said politely. “Thank you so much for inviting me here today.”

Her eyes darted to Sam, as if she had nothing to do with the invitation, but she refrained from saying so. She nodded stiffly before ushering us inside.

Sam and Seth stayed at my sides as we walked into the front room for cocktails. Sutton Davis, their father, was standing near the bar. He had a huge, dominating presence, even more so than his sons. He finished off a glass of golden brown liquor before striding across the room with a glass of champagne that he handed to Janice.

“Would you like a glass of champagne?” It was the first time he had ever addressed me directly. His bright green eyes were mesmerizing as he studied me.

Finally, I realized that he was only looking at me because he was waiting for an answer to his question. “No, I shouldn’t. The baby…I’m pregnant. Thanks, though.” I stammered a little over the explanation.

“Right, of course.” He waved me off in a dismissal as he strode back over to the bar to refill his glass.

We stood there awkwardly for a while. The only topics I could think of to fill the void were Peanut, which seemed like a touchy discussion area, or the plans Davis Industries had for Harbor Shores, and that seemed like it would be a subject that was even more filled with landmines.