Beautiful Sacrifice (The Maddox Brothers, #3)(51)

They both stopped their giggling and swaying back and forth long enough to look at me, making me regret the interruption.

With the fork in her hand, Abby pointed at a stack of brown glass plates. “If you’d like, you can set the table.”

Taylor passed me and picked up the plates, gesturing with his head for me to follow. I grabbed the silverware and trailed behind him into the next room where Jim sat alone.

Taylor set a plate in front of his dad, and I placed Jim’s knife and fork down. Abby hadn’t set out spoons, but I didn’t imagine a soup course would be served. Any home where I felt I belonged wouldn’t have courses—or maids or life-changing selfish agendas.

Travis came in, positioning hot pads on the table, and Abby quickly followed, lowering a glass casserole dish with several juicy, heavily spiced pork chops. They were young but clearly in love, always sure to kiss or touch when they passed one another.

Taylor pulled out a chair next to Jim. “Have a seat.”

The maroon fabric was stained and faded, but the cushion was nicely worn in, just like Taylor’s family.

Jim pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He smiled at me, the slightly swollen skin under his eyes pulling up.

When the bowls of mashed potatoes, white pepper gravy, and snap peas were on the table, Jim nodded. “Looks good, son.”

“I got me a good one,” Travis said, smiling at Abby.

“Yes, you did,” Jim said, winking at his daughter-in-law.

Once Jim took a bite, I picked up my fork and dug in, not realizing the three bites of Taylor’s sandwich I’d mooched on the way to Eakins hadn’t been enough to tide me over like I thought.

“Oh God, this is good,” I said, closing my eyes.

Phaedra was a good cook, and I always ate well at the Bucksaw, but eating from the same menu every day made someone else’s home cooking feel like eating out.

“Do you cook?” Abby asked.

Her gray eyes pierced straight through mine into the deepest parts of me. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect her family from anyone unworthy. They’d been through a lot, and any woman important enough to bring home deserved a thorough evaluation.

“Only some things. But what I cook, I cook well,” I said.

“Like what?” She grinned sweetly as she chewed.

“Breakfast foods mostly.”

“Does Taylor get up early enough for breakfast?” Travis teased.

“Shut up, *,” Taylor grumbled.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Everyone looked at me.

“We’re just friends,” I added.

Abby’s eyebrows shot up, and then she looked to Travis. “Oh.”

“Baby,” Travis said, “pass me the salt and pepper, would ya?”

Abby reached over and handed the small glass shakers to her husband. He seemed too young to be wearing a wedding band. They both did, yet those rings and their marriage seemed natural, as if they were always meant to love each other, working toward their forever.

“We were friends once,” Travis said, unaffected.

Abby pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. “Not that I didn’t fight it.”

Travis shook his head while he chewed. “Christ, did she ever.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say you enjoyed the chase,” I said.

The room filled with laughter, deep tones from the Maddox boys and Abby’s lighter cackles. It made me feel more at ease—the conversation, the laughter, the inflection of the back-and-forth. It felt like the dining area at the Bucksaw.

“So, you can relate?” she asked.

I stopped chewing, mid-bite.

Taylor looked at me, hope in his eyes.

When I didn’t answer, he looked to his brother. “So, how did you guys get from there to now?” Taylor asked. “Just … out of curiosity.”

Travis and Abby traded knowing glances. Travis took a bite of pork chop, and Abby rested her chin on her hand, smiling at him, so in love.

“We didn’t wait until we worked out our shit,” Travis said after he swallowed. “Otherwise, I’d still be chasing her.” He leaned over and kissed Abby’s cheek. “And thank f*ck that’s over. Being with her and then without her felt a lot like dying slowly—with a little bit of crazy thrown in for good measure. You’ll see.”

Taylor shot me a quick side glance and then sawed at his pork chop.

Abby rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t quite that bad.”

Travis stopped chewing and looked at her. “It was exactly that bad.”

Just as Abby reached out to touch her husband’s cheek, the front door opened. We waited to see who had arrived, listening to footsteps padding down the hall along with the sounds coming from paper and plastic.

Another Maddox brother appeared, holding a brown sack. Below him stood a tiny girl holding small plastic sacks in each hand. Her platinum hair cascaded in soft waves over her miniature-sized peacoat. Her enormous bright green eyes targeted each one of us, one at a time.

“Olive!” Jim said. “How was Chicken Joe’s?”

Bile rose in my throat, and my hands began to tremble. A thin sheen of sweat immediately formed on my skin. I felt like laughing and crying and cheering and collapsing all at once.

“It was good,” she said in a voice that matched her small stature. “Cami couldn’t come. Twent was ’posed to wash the dishes before we weft, but he fowgot. Cami will be mad, mad, mad.”