Sharon bent down to see a photo of a teenage Jake and Patrick at Christmas, both of them showing off swords that they’d been given as gifts, and she had to grin. Everyone knew that Jake had accidentally given Patrick the scar on his face, but it was still something to see the actual photographic evidence of the weapon. Both of them were pretty cute, grinning at the camera as they stood in fighting stances.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s deep voice startled her, and she jumped up straight in the air, squeaking slightly, before spinning around to face him. He was leaning against the wide doorway of the room, hands in his pockets, and she had no idea how long he’d been standing there watching her.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she accused, scowling at him. Her hands came down on her hips. “What are you doing sneaking around?”

Jake shrugged as Sharon glared up at him. The truth was, as soon as Ellie had come downstairs without her, he’d had the immediate impulse to go looking for her. Actually, he’d been fighting that impulse as soon as she’d been out of his sight, but he’d been winning the fight up until that point.

She wasn’t where he’d expected to find her though. The other rooms still had plenty of people milling in and out, and he’d seen his mom talking to her friend Connie, but this front room was empty. People were welcome in it, but for some reason hardly anyone ever used it, except at Christmas when his parents put up the tree.

Finding her looking at pictures instead of in the center of things…

Well, it was kind of throwing him a little. Especially after the revelation of Michael’s perspective on Sharon’s behavior earlier.

“I was just wondering where you were,” he said, tilting his head at her. “Usually you’re right in the middle of everything. It’s much quieter when you’re not. Seemed kind of weird.”

A month ago, he would have made that statement in a rather derogatory way. Tonight, he was more curious than anything else.

“I just wanted to see the pictures,” she said with a shrug, turning back to look at them, although she didn’t bend at the waist for a closer look, the way she had been before. Which was probably for the best, because, despite the tights, seeing her standing like that had been giving him all sorts of inappropriate ideas. “I’ll be back to get my share of attention when I’m done.”

Annoyance twinged through him at the matter-of-fact way she said it. Then again, he’d accused her of being an attention whore in the past, much more bluntly and less politely than he just had. It wasn’t like she was unaware of his thoughts about that.