Page 24 of Love Always

“Maple crème brulée,” she corrects me.

“Okay, maple crème brulée, and then there’s pie—”

“Mom’s quadruple berry pie is delicious and there’s chocolate cake as well with tiramisu frosting.”

I stare at a layered confection in the middle. “And what’s that? Some kind of tort?”

“What’s a tort?” asks Jackson.

“Ah, I didn’t make that,” she says. “It’s a secret family recipe we call Clouds and Mountains. It’s one of Laurel’s specialties.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not the only one who cooks. It’s three thin inch-high meringues, with thick chocolate ganache in between, topped with fresh whipped cream.” She folds her arms and fixes her gaze on the already half devoured round. “It’s clearly to die for.”

“Oh my God.” I gaze at the Clouds and Mountains.

“That’s what you’re going to say when you eat it.”

Jackson looks like he’s going to start drooling. “Can I have two?”

Chloe backhands a whisper. “You can have a sampler with of all of them.”

Just then, Laurel swings around in the back porch, her face smooth and oval, her pretty mouth set in a grin. She’s got a plastic trash bag filled with garbage. Colleen is right next to her with her own bag of trash.

“You headed to the bins?” I ask. “You want some help?”

“I’ll help,” says Jackson, his focus on food suddenly redirected. He grabs the trash liner from Laurel in one hand while the other gently takes Colleen’s arm and guides her between vacationers and off the porch. He moves fast. The thousand-year-old woman arrives and needs a dessert tour. Chloe is happy to oblige.

“So, I’m going for the Clouds and Mountains,” I say.

“Great,” Laurel says, but won’t meet my eyes.

“Listen,” I step toward her, closing the gap between us. “I’m sorry again that I sprang my um … this on you.” I gesture to my left leg.

She lays a hand on my shoulder. “You’re fine, no worries.”

“But—”

“Really,” her face twists slightly and I know I don’t have a chance. My gut churns. She’s clearly trying to put distance between us. “It’s fine.”

She steps back just as Colleen and Jackson walk onto the porch through the back door—they must have cut through the downstairs. Colleen looks scared, pale, and there’s big dark circles under her eyes. Her glance to Jackson is wary and it’s clear they’ve had a conversation.

“We’ll talk later,” Laurel says but her smile is wan and she turns to Colleen. “You need a ride home?”

Colleen nods and it seems like Laurel can’t leave fast enough. She hustles her off the porch and around the corner.

Jackson immediately turns to me. “We gotta talk.”

There is such urgency in his voice I know this has nothing to do with possibly dating Colleen.

He juts a finger toward the ceiling. “Upstairs.”

“We need to get Finn then. Those are his offices.”

“Fuck. Forget it then. This is probably nothing.” He still looks uncomfortable, digging hands into his front pockets.

I wave him inside, to the parlor, next to a huge fireplace with a wide granite hearth. “Give it up. What?”