She pressed her bruised lips and savored the ache. When was the last time she’d had sex like that?

Have you ever had sex like that? her mind countered.

It didn’t matter. Last night was all she wanted to think about. She conjured up the memory of Morgan lying on the deck of her boat with moonlight painting her fair skin. And her hands. Emilia turned her face against the pillow and let out a wistful sigh.

No. She’d never had sex like that before, especially not the first time. The way her body opened up for Morgan would have alarmed her if it hadn’t felt so good. Too good. She grimaced as she realized how wet she’d gotten at the thought.

I’m hungry, she told her body, and I want coffee.

Ten minutes and two orgasms later, neither of which were even remotely as satisfying as last night’s, she roused Nell and padded to the kitchen. She managed to get a cup of coffee and a slice of toast down before her phone rang.

Anna Maria. She put it on speaker and poured herself a second cup of coffee as her sister’s voice filled the kitchen.

“Guess what?” her stepsister asked.

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Is it still morning? Kids got me up at four. Whatever. The good news is that I’m coming to see you.”

“Awesome.” Emilia tried to remember when—or if—she’d invited her.

“Mom said you were having a hard time.”

“I was.”

“Was?”

Trust Anna Maria to pick up on semantics. “Yeah.”

“Spill.”

“Jesus, Anna Maria, I just woke up.”

“It’s almost ten o’clock.”

Emilia glanced at the clock on the stove and blinked. “Oops.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. How many cups of coffee have you had this morning? You sound like a parrot on speed.”

“Very funny. I should be at your place in three hours.”

“Wait, what? Today?”

“Blame Mom. She got worried and ordered me to check on you.”

“Some warning might be nice, next time.”

“Why? You got a house guest?”

“No. But I need to clean, and buy food—”

“Emmy. It’s me. I don’t give a shit about any of that.”

“Hang on.” She slurped down half her coffee and leaned against the counter. “Okay. Start over. You’re driving up today, you don’t have the twins, and Mark is . . .?”

“Taking a few days off. And I didn’t want to overload you. I was planning on staying two nights if you’re up for it, but you can kick me out sooner. I just need a photo of us together to send to Mom as proof.”

“The worst part about all of this is feeling like I’m sixteen again. Remind Mom I turned thirty last year, will you?”

“Funny how suicidal depression makes people protective,” Anna Maria said a little too sharply.