“O-kay.” She glanced over his shoulder and he realized his grandmother had joined them. Hopefully she hadn’t heard him demanding Zoey’s attention like that. Nana smiled, not showing any indication she’d heard a thing.

“Thank goodness for disposable plates and dinnerware—cleanup is easy!” Nana put more used plates in the trash bag. “And you even have a helper. You make a good team.”

“We’re not a team.” He winced at how that sounded. There was just something in the way his grandmother was examining them that made him defensive. “I mean... I just happened to come in the kitchen while she was here.”

“Well, as long as you’re in here, you two could clean the pots we used for the corn on the cob, and that big pan we baked the beans in.” Nana looked up as Mary started to enter the kitchen and waved her off. “You go take care of your husband, Mary. Mike and Zoey are in charge of the kitchen. Too many people in here will make it impossible to work.”

“I see,” Mary replied, giving Mike a strange twin-vibe look that he couldn’t interpret. “Let’s leave the two of them alone, then.”

Zoey’s forehead furrowed as the women left.

“I feel like we’re being set up.”

“I’m just glad we’re alone for a few minutes.” He put his hand on her arm and steered her toward the sink, which was loaded with pans.

“So what’s this urgent matter we need to discuss?” Zoey sprayed dish soap in a pan and started filling it with hot water.

“It’s about that question you asked earlier.” He took the pot from her and started scrubbing while she filled the next one. Zoey’s eyes closed and her cheeks went pink.

“Oh, that. I saw you with Gavin earlier and remembered what you said about you and Becca not having children and...”

“Are you pregnant?”

The pot dropped from her hands, banging against the sink and making them both jump.

Mary appeared in the doorway. Mike couldn’t help thinking she arrived freakishly fast. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yes—sorry!” Zoey waved, the pink gone from her cheeks. There wasn’t much color left in her face at all.

Mary sent Mike what looked like a watch-your-step look, but she was gone again before he could question what her problem was. He looked to Zoey and quickly backed away from her glare. He wasn’t fast enough, because she reached out and pinched his forearm. And twisted, just like she used to do when they were kids.

He didn’t want to bring Mary back by yelling, so he pulled away and whisper-yelled instead. “Shit, Zoey! What was that for?”