Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(28)

She laughed. “Oh, God . . . now don’t you go talking about how much we look alike. A couple of days ago, I was at that little market over by Grandma’s. Remember her neighbor, Margo? I was loading my groceries onto the conveyor belt when I heard someone shoutin’, ‘Nikki, Nikki, is that you?’ I don’t know why she even bothered asking the question when she refused to believe I was your sister and not actually you.”

“You say this as if looking like me is a bad thing.”

She laughed as she flitted around her cozy country kitchen, preparing dinner, the smell of a roast simmering on the stove making my stomach growl.

Her face really was so much like mine that it felt as if I was looking in a mirror.

A few years younger and a tiny bit rounder from the few pounds she was still clinging to after giving birth to my sweet niece two months ago.

“Did you show up at my door diggin’ for compliments?”

“Um, no, I didn’t show up at your door diggin’ for compliments. I showed up at your door diggin’ for dinner.”

That, and I needed a distraction.

I had to tell Seth about the notes I’d found on my car. I knew I did. But I needed to work myself up to it. Figure out exactly what information I could give without betraying confidence, knowing I didn’t have proof.

But my gut?

It was sure.

On top of that? I’d needed to get out of Ollie’s loft. Clear my head. Decide exactly what I was going to say to him.

I couldn’t just stay there and keep him in the dark about what was happening.

But God knew, I was terrified of letting him in on this.

He wasn’t exactly rational when it came to a threat.

Plus, I had to be careful before I lost my heart all over again.

No doubt, that was the most dangerous position I could get myself into.

Sammie pulled out a cutting board and set a head of broccoli on it. “Well, I guess you came to the right place, then, didn’t you? Just expecting your married sister was gonna be slaving away in the kitchen for her husband.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” I teased, eyeing the spread she was preparing.

Chuckling, she shook her head. “I do it because I want to do it, not because I’m obligated.”

I nudged her with my shoe. “You think I don’t know that? And there is not a thing wrong with you wanting to take care of your family.”

She glanced over at me. Something about her expression was wistful and sad. “I never really thought it was what I’d want to do. I always envisioned myself in a big skyscraper in an even bigger city, working my way up the corporate ladder, and now all I want to do is spend the day rockin’ that baby.”

“You always dreamed of getting away from Gingham Lakes, didn’t you?”

Her head shook a bit. “Sometimes you think it’s the place you need to escape when really it’s just your situation.”

I stilled at that, something unsettling about her statement. I searched her face. “What does that mean?”

Her posture stiffened, and she pinned on a smile. “Nothing. Just means I thought there might be better things out there waiting for me in the world.”

“Why’s that?”

She inhaled deeply, biting her bottom lip as she continued chopping. “It’s nothing. Just never quite felt comfortable in my own skin.”

I shifted to the side so I could see her better. “I don’t get that, Sammie. You were always the happiest of us all.”

She puffed a little sound. “Not even. You and Sydney and those boys. You were always running free, leaving your poor baby sister behind.”

A chuckle rippled out, and I reached over and grabbed another handful of grapes from the bowl. “Ha. Every time I tried to take you anywhere, you didn’t want to walk. How many times did Ollie have to carry you home on his back?”

She laughed low and tossed the florets of broccoli she’d just cut into the pot of water boiling on the stove. “Good thing that boy was always the size of a bear, always having to carry all the poor, pathetic girls around.”

She grinned. “Of course, you were probably just faking being tired so you could get yourself one of those rides. Anything to get your arms around that man.”

Nostalgia moved through me. Joy chased by sorrow. I couldn’t stop the sad smile.

She sobered a bit. “You know, I always thought the two of you would end up together.”

My head shook. “No. We have too much in common. Too much history to ever make that work.”

“Isn’t that what makes a good relationship?”

“Not when all that history is filled with pain.”

She nodded slowly, quick to change the subject. “So, how are your classes?”

“Good. I’m so close to being finished. I can’t believe it.”

“I’m really proud of you, you know?”

Light laughter escaped. “It’s about time, isn’t it? Here I am thirty and barely figuring out what I want to do with my life.”

Funny how things were supposed to be coming together and every piece of me felt as if it were descending into disorder.

The apartment.

Brenna.

The internship.

And somehow staying with Ollie felt just as big as all of that.