Название: Dead Don't Lie
Автор: Lynell Nicolello
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
isbn: 9781474001052
isbn:
“I knew you wouldn’t say no.” Releasing her hold, Kate stepped back. Her curly red hair fell to one side as she tilted her head slightly. She clucked her tongue. “Wow, Ev. You look awful.”
Evelyn laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks.”
She was forever amazed at her friend’s bluntness. It was the trait that had initially drawn Evelyn to her. The moment Ryan introduced them, a tight bond had formed between them. Knowing where she stood with Kate had been a welcome place for Evelyn. And eight years later, she still appreciated Kate’s candor and friendship. Looking at the green-eyed beauty, one would never guess that she was a cutthroat, shoot-from-the-hip, take-no-shit assistant district attorney.
“Just saying how it is,” Kate teased as she closed the door behind them.
Kate moved across the foyer, entered the dining room and flipped the light switch. Evelyn followed behind her. The clear, blown-glass chandelier twinkled to life. The room had plush cream carpets and pale blue walls. The table settings were laid out on the pub-style table.
For six.
Evelyn, plus the O’Neil clan, made five.
“Why are there six plates on that table?”
She pushed down the frustration bubbling inside her. If she had known Kate planned to pull this tonight, she would have declined—and nothing would have stopped her. Damn Kate, always trying to set her up.
“Are there?” Kate smiled innocently.
“Tonight, of all nights? You know how much the Langdon case took out of me. And how much I hate you trying to set me up.” Evelyn fought to keep her voice level.
Kate giggled.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Ryan owes me ten bucks.” Kate reached for the sixth place setting and gathered it into a neat pile. “Do you honestly think I would have made this a blind date? Tonight? Not in a million years. I haven’t seen either of you in weeks, and I want you all to myself. Besides, Ry thought it would be funny to see how long it took you to notice the number of place settings. I told him less than two minutes. He said ten. We bet, and I won.”
Evelyn should have known better. Heat kissed her cheeks. Apparently she needed this evening with her friends more than she realized.
Kate balanced the plate setting on one hand and reached for the flowers. She stopped, tilted her head. “Hear that?”
Little feet clapped down the hardwood floors, tiny giggles bouncing off the hallway walls. Evelyn grinned. She dropped to her knees and waited for the assault to commence.
Right on cue, Ava, Kate and Ryan’s six-year-old daughter, charged around the corner, long blond hair swinging wildly, and flung herself into Evelyn’s open arms.
“You’re here! You’re here!”
Ava tightened her grip around Evelyn and squeezed. Her little face pressed into the soft curve of Evelyn’s neck. She returned the child’s hug and quietly sighed. Kate knew her too well. This was exactly where Evelyn needed to be tonight.
Here with this family...her adopted family.
Ava pushed back from Evelyn’s embrace and, despite her lisp, babbled a mile a minute. Evelyn and Kate exchanged an amused look—the child was an attorney in the making. Evelyn turned her attention back to the chatty child as Kate headed toward the kitchen.
“Ry, can you grab me a vase?”
A baby’s contagious laugh pulled Evelyn’s lips into a smile, and she shifted Ava to one side to lock eyes with the little love of her life.
Liam O’Neil. At sixteen months, he was still a sweet baby to her, but he’d started to tear around the house as soon as he learned to walk, and his constant nonsense babble was heartwarming to hear. Liam hesitantly toddled toward her, his eyes sparkling with determination and untold mischief. Oh, dear. He took after Ryan with his playful demeanor, jet-black curls and matching dimples.
Liam was going to be one solid heartbreaker when he grew up.
His feet got ahead of his small body as he glanced up at Evelyn and he face-planted. Hard. His chin connected with the floor with a hard crack. Ava’s jabber halted. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at her brother’s crumpled figure.
He lay there for a minute, hugging the floor, his tiny body a statue. A whimper escaped his lips as he slowly lifted his face toward Evelyn. His chin quivered and tears collected in his eyes.
Evelyn set Ava down and, in two steps, scooped him into her arms to cuddle him close to her.
“Look at you, little man. You’re okay, sweetheart.” She lightly kissed the red, angry knot on his chin. He whimpered again, fat tears threatening to roll down his cheeks.
“You’re okay. See? All better.”
Evelyn pushed the curls away from his eyes. Liam tentatively smiled up at her. She kissed the tip of his nose and felt his body relax. She looked into his eyes, the stress of the Langdon case gone. She didn’t know how or why, but the tiny man in her arms pushed back the darkness in her world.
Seeing that her brother wasn’t broken, Ava once again launched into chatter about the red-haired boy who sat behind her in class, always pulling her hair. Why did he do that anyway? When no one answered, she embarked onto her next story.
“Kate, can I get a bag of frozen peas?” Evelyn grabbed Ava’s hand, cradled Liam to her chest and headed toward the kitchen.
* * *
RYAN AND EVELYN’S phones beeped at the same time. In tandem, they reached for them. Their delightfully calm and refreshing evening crashed and burned.
Ryan skimmed the text and set down his frosted mug of Guinness. “Son of a bitch.”
“Ryan,” Kate chastised between clenched teeth, casting a quick glance at Ava.
A look of chagrin crossed his face. Kate had a mouth that made the trashiest sailor blush, but demanded clean language around the children. It was one of the many contradictory things about her partner’s wife, and Evelyn knew he loved every single one of them.
Ava giggled at her parents’ exchange, nothing lost on her brilliant young mind, and went back to her favorite meal: cedar plank salmon. Which still boggled Evelyn’s mind—what six-year-old loved salmon? But after one nibble off Evelyn’s plate when Ava was five, the little munchkin was sold. Liam stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth without the use of his fork, which now lay on the floor. Kate had given up that fight not even five minutes into dinner, as he insisted on using the utensil as a drumstick against the wood. Fearing for her lovely table, she’d left the fork on the floor when it went flying after her son’s last particularly creative drumming session.
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