Family. The word hits her like a shot to the heart. If anyone else called her Malcolm’s family, she’d roll with it because it might as well be true. But coming from Summer, that word in her mouth feels like a backhanded compliment so good Grace would be proud. You’re like a sister to him, Joy.

One thing’s for sure: Joy isn’t his damn sister.

If that’s how Summer wants to play it, Joy can dish it right back. Summer called Malcolm a “friend.” Someone so indoctrinated in traditional dating values would claim Malcolm if he were hers. She’s definitely the kind of person to correct someone the second she got engaged. He’s my fiancé now. We’re getting married. While using a voice that’s equal parts snotty and sweet.

“For his partners, sure. Not his friends. I mean, that’s what you said, right? You two are friends.”

“We are.” Despite Joy’s panic, there’s no tension between them. No animosity filling up the car. Summer seems fine, relaxed even. “But that’s how it always starts with him, isn’t it? Caroline was his friend first too.”

Joy turns back to the road, hands gripping on the wheel. She knows.

Six

Summer carries most of their haul into the house, multiple bags looped around her arms like a pro. “One trip.”

Joy snickers, amused despite her inner turmoil. “Impressive. My delicate hands are happy to leave you to it.”

Malcolm’s face lights up when he sees them. Joy isn’t sure if it’s for Summer or her, but for now the best she can hope for is both. “Get what you need?”

Summer quickly scans the room. No sign of Fox. “We’re making a cake for tonight.”

“You are?” Malcolm asks Joy, who reclines against the counter after setting his keys down.

“We.”

“A cake? Together? Really?”

“I said oui.” It takes several heartbeats for her joke to register—and the resulting look in Malcolm’s eyes as his soul tries to leave his body sends Joy cackling into oblivion.

“What’s so funny?” Summer, dedicated to secrecy, begins stashing the ingredients as far back in the cabinets and fridge as she can push them.

“Nothing,” Malcolm says. “That’s the problem.”

Joy snorts. “But you recognized it, though. Ten out of ten for effectiveness.”

“Anyway.” A reluctant laugh escapes him. “I have a small aquatic surprise planned. So if you want to go put on your swimsuits . . .”

“Is it a boat? Are we going boating? Wait, don’t tell me. I want to be surprised.” Summer plants a kiss on his cheek before dashing out of the room, presumably to go change.

Malcolm didn’t react to that kiss at all. A very good sign.

Joy squints at him, making her best Marge Simpson–type groan.