Lyrica dropped from the lower balcony railing, barefoot, dressed as Eve was in a pair of shorty pajama bottoms and a snug camisole.
Her long black hair was twisted into a braid behind her as she leaned back against the rail she had just jumped from, her hands gripping the vinyl-covered railing.
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Mom with breakfast in the morning?” she asked her sister.
“Well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Lyrica tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear as she shifted on her feet and smiled back at Eve brightly. “I was hoping I could get you to cover for me.”
Eve’s brow lifted in doubtful surprise. “Did you even notice what time I came in tonight, or what time it is now?”
“Yeah, you came in at two thirty and it’s now ten after three.” She waved the time away. “Come on, Eve; it’s really important. I know you won’t get much sleep—”
“Try no sleep,” Eve reminded her. “What would be the point of going to sleep if I just have to get up again in less than two hours?”
“I know; that will so suck.” Lyrica pouted as she brushed another strand of hair back and shifted on her bare feet again. “So you’ll do it for me?”
“I didn’t say that.” Eve laughed. “I said what would be the point of going to sleep if I were to do that? And I have to be back at the bar at six tomorrow evening. I’m closing with Matteo, so I’ll be even later getting home. I’ll need some sleep.”
“Come on, Eve; you can get to bed before noon, and that will easily give you five hours’ sleep.”
“And I easily need eight,” Eve pointed out. “What’s so important on a Saturday that you can’t help Mom and Piper with breakfast?”
Lyrica blew out a heavy breath, her head tilting to the side as she gazed down at the boards of the porch. A second later, her gaze lifted as she stared back at Eve. And Eve knew that look. Her younger sister was considering the best way to work her oldest sister to get what she wanted.
“Tell me why,” Eve bargained. “Otherwise I’m going to bed. Like I said, I have to help Matteo close the bar, and I need my sleep if this isn’t important.”
“Maybe it’s just important to me.” Lyrica shrugged. “I was invited to go with some friends to Louisville for a spa day.”
Her expression became animated, her voice filling with excitement. “Massages, a mani and a pedi, and being spoiled and rubbed and oiled for hours and hours.” Lyrica was all but jumping in anticipation. “Please, Eve, pretty please cover for me. I can’t just slip off and leave Momma a hand short. Piper would kill me if I did that.”
Because then Piper would have the majority of the work in the kitchen as their mother fixed coffee, set the long dining room table, and made fresh-squeezed orange juice and the fruit bowls for the guests who came down early to catch the news, read the paper, or just socialize as they checked e-mail before breakfast.
Piper would get together the individual orders that were turned in the night before, prepare all the ingredients as well as the plates and silverware. She would have to do all the cooking and carry all the food out as well if her mother didn’t finish early to help her. And normally it was impossible to finish one job early to help someone else with another when all the rooms were rented out. Lyrica wasn’t even lucky enough that most of the rooms only held a single guest. With the exception of the three long term guests, it was couples.
Eve’s suite didn’t count. It was a smaller suite. The other side was a pantry connected to the kitchen and the large laundry room with two heavy-duty stacking washers and dryers that were used by guests as well as their mother to wash the bedcoverings in.
“So I’m supposed to give up eight hours of sleep so you can go have a girls’ day?” she asked.
“Come on, Eve. The invitation came from Kyleene Brock. I’ve been trying to make friends with her for months now.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “No, you’ve been trying to get close to her brother for months now,” she retorted.
“Same thing.” Lyrica waved the protest away. “If I have to back out because of breakfast, then it’s going to be just horrible.”
“Just horrible, huh?” Eve tucked her feet up in the chair and knew she was just making her sister wait before giving in to her. Because she knew she was going to do it.
Lyrica had had a crush on Graham Brock for years. She’d been plotting just as long to get into that inner circle of friends Kyleene was so careful before making.
As one of the larger land owners in the area, and one of the few influential bachelors since the Mackay cousins’ marriages, Graham was well sought after. Because of his popularity, Kyleene was extremely careful of the friends she made.
“Come on, Eve, please,” her sister asked again, this time quietly, and with much more restraint. “Kyleene has invited all of us back to the house for a late lunch after we’re finished at the spa, and Graham is home on leave.”
Graham was serving his second tour in the Middle East, and Eve knew her sister had been watching for him to come home for months.
“Fine,” Eve agreed impatiently. “I’ll do it. But you owe me big-time, Lyrica.”
“Oh, my God, Eve, thank you so much.” Lyrica jumped across the short distance, reached into the chair, and wrapped her arms around Eve’s neck tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Drawing back, Lyrica threw her fist into the air in a silent victory shout before gripping the porch post and pulling herself up the railing again.
“You can use my door to get to the stairs, Lyrica.” Eve laughed quietly. “You don’t have to risk life and limb climbing like a damned monkey.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Love you, Eve.” Her sister blew her a swift kiss before her gaze swung to the side of Eve’s patio door. “Morning, Mr. Campbell, I hope we didn’t wake you.”
Eve tensed with a silent groan of frustration.
“Not hardly, Ms. Mackay,” he drawled. The spicy sweet scent of his cigar reached her nostrils and had her body reacting to the sensual smell.
She pretended to hate the scent of it, but during those times when she forced herself to be honest, Eve admitted, to herself anyway, that the evocative scent would always be associated with wanting this man.