Jackson at least managed to spit his food into a napkin. Nicholas didn’t even try—he just spat straight onto the floor. “Water! Water! Someone get me water!”
Jackson passed him an unopened bottle. Nicholas grabbed it with a look of pure horror and chugged it down in one go.
Once he’d recovered, Nicholas slumped back in his chair, staring at Clara like he honestly thought she’d tried to poison them.
Then, as if a lightbulb went off, he pointed at her. “You’re trying to kill Dylan, aren’t you? Clara, I knew you were up to something, but this is next-level!”
Clara had been feeling pretty awful, but with these two making such a scene, she couldn’t help but feel a little better.
She was about to fire back when she saw Charles coming in from the yard.
Charles had actually arrived in Palm Bay an hour ago. He’d meant to come in right away, but after seeing Clara was fine, he ended up hanging outside, playing fetch with MiloBuddy.
Now, spotting the food on the table, he hurried over. “Sis, you cooked again? Didn’t you take breakfast to your husband? Didn’t he get any?”
He reached for a spoon, ready to dig in, but Clara quickly caught his wrist. “Don’t. I got distracted while cooking. Seriously, it’s awful today.”
She’d barely finished talking when Dylan lowered his eyes, picked up his own spoon, and said quietly, “No. It’s really good.”
Jackson and Nicholas stared at him like he’d lost his mind. People said love made you blind, but this was just ridiculous.
Clara watched as Dylan kept eating, one spoonful after another, and her eyes started to sting. “Stop eating.”
Dylan looked up at her, then finally set his spoon down.
He reached out, gently brushing his fingers across her cheek.
Her lashes fluttered. She wanted to say something, but with everyone else right there, she just took a deep breath. “I’ll make something new.”
Dylan stared at his own hand for a second, looking lost, then suddenly grabbed her wrist. “You…”
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