Liv nodded, trying to imagine it along with her. “And what are you doing?”

“I’m circulating the room, passing around cookies I made, talking with everyone, making them feel at home. I feel energized by all the chatter, but then I sneak off into the kitchen to refill the plate. The kitchen is shiny and new, the counters gleaming. The whole room smells like browned butter. I want to sneak a cookie myself, so I take a plate into the main bedroom, which is done in pale blues with a big, fluffy white bed. I think I’m alone, but then a hand reaches out and takes me by the elbow and…”

Liv nudged her. “And what?”

Kincaid opened her eyes and ducked her head, not meeting her friends’ gazes. “Never mind. I get your point.”

Liv searched her face. “Who took you by the elbow?”

Kincaid shifted away. “Doesn’t matter. Y’all are going to let me get carried away with the fantasies, and we’ll starve to death. Thank you for the pep talk. Let’s get cleaned up and order some pizza.”

“Hey,” Taryn said, catching Kincaid’s eye. “Was it Graham who took your elbow?”

Kincaid winced. “No. I don’t need a guy in this fantasy. This is going to be my business.”

Liv could tell she was spooked, but maybe they were finally getting somewhere. “Kincaid, was it Ash?”

Kincaid stood and dusted off the back of her jeans. “You think they deliver pizza all the way out here? Maybe we should drive into town and eat out.”

Liv got to her feet, a pang of compassion filling her. “Oh, chica, why didn’t you tell us?”

Kincaid crossed her arms. “Tell you what?”

Rebecca smiled sadly. “That you fell in love.”

* * *

Kincaid looked around at her friends’ empathetic faces, panic welling in her. She shook her head, not wanting to cry anymore. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Liv smirked. “Uh-huh.”

Her friend’s knowing look had her defenses crumbling like a gingerbread house. They knew her too well. When did she ever not want to talk? She let out a defeated sigh. “Let’s order pizza first and then I’ll tell y’all everything.”

Rebecca smiled and reached out to give Kincaid’s hand a squeeze. “It’s about time.”

“Yeah,” Taryn said, stepping up next to them. “You’ve been there for us. Now it’s our turn to repay the favor.”

“Falling in love sucks,” Kincaid declared.

“Ha,” Liv said, joining them. “Girl, preach.”

“Amen,” Rebecca said.

“And hallelujah,” Taryn finished.

They walked downstairs together, ordered pizza, and settled in for a long night.

Twenty-Seven

Ash sat down at the busy restaurant in Chelsea, the noise and compactness of the restaurant almost too much after his time in Long Acre. He’d already forgotten how frenetic the pace was in New York City. He adjusted the collar of his shirt and tried to settle his nerves.

“What’s your poison?” Alice, his editor, asked as she took her seat across from him and picked up the menu.