Too late. Their eyes met, and his were like a shot of espresso: dark and delicious and dangerously invigorating. She felt a bit jittery. Shit. Abbie dragged her gaze away and found herself staring at Jase instead. Her twin was currently watching her with that infuriating smirk he got when he thought he knew something she didn’t. The dick. She stuck her tongue out at him again, then yelped at the familiar whack of a wooden spoon on her shoulder.

“Behave yourself,” Grandma said sternly.

“Yeah, Abbie,” Jase snickered. There was a thud under the table, and his smirk was replaced by a wince. “Ow.” He turned to glare at Will, who was looking pointedly in the other direction.

Abbie felt herself smile.

“So, Will,” Jase began, sitting back in his chair and adjusting the cuffs on his black silk shirt. (Jason had told her, when they were fourteen, that he intended to dress like a sexy pirate for the rest of his life, and he had taken that very seriously.) “How is it, being back home?”

Will rolled his eyes and stabbed another sausage. “Same as it always is. Colder.”

“Hm, yes, fascinating,” Jase said. “Abbie. How is it having Will back home?”

Across the kitchen, Grandma whipped around with an expression of eager delight. Which was both weird and unnerving. “Yes, Abbie, how is it?”

“Fine,” Abbie bit out.

“Really?” Jase grinned.

Abbie narrowed her eyes at her twin. Shut the fuck up.

Jase arched an eyebrow. Make me.

Abbie kept on looking. I’m serious.

Jase rolled his eyes. “I see we’re all in excellent moods this morning.”

“They’re hungover,” Grandma put in slyly, “judging by the state of my secret gin bottle. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Will is hungover,” Abbie put in. “I was sober as a church last night.”

“That was the only churchly thing about you,” Jase said with a smirk.

Now it was Abbie’s turn to kick him under the table.

After breakfast, Grandma went off to wrap presents. Will announced that he was going to shower, then looked at Abbie in a way that made her feel a bit faint and said, “We need to talk later. Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed, momentarily brainless and legless and very, very aware of her own vagina, and also of the tight tangle of nerves in her stomach.

Will disappeared upstairs, his absence returning all the oxygen to the room, and Abbie sucked in a calming breath and got a grip. Then she headed into the family room to embroider and worry, and Jase followed her there with the express purpose of getting on her nerves.

“Nice silk stitch,” he said, peering over her shoulder at her embroidery hoop.

“Leave me,” she muttered, focusing very hard on the shell of the little turtle she was creating.

“No, thank you. Snogging Will in the garden, yeah?”