“Party time,” Selene sang tunelessly, shaking her hips from side to side as she sliced pickles. She piled them onto the plate beside her and grabbed a tomato.
“Not yet,” Brandon called through the screen. The scent of glowing coals and grilling beef floated in the window.
“That smells amazing, babe,” she called back. “You're the grill king, aren't you?”
“Maybe, maybe,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Are you sure it's okay with you that you're cooking your own birthday dinner?”
“It's not a birthday dinner. It's just dinner,” he replied. “That this happens to be my birthday is irrelevant.”
“Okay,” she replied, laughing. “It's just dinner… with cake… and guests.”
“Family members aren't guests,” he reminded her. “Everyone who will be there has a designated bedroom in this house.”
Family.
