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Then she walks off in the direction of her office.

Damn, she’s something.

And she’s mine.

“What did you do to my sister?” Gavin asks as I head toward the cabin to put our bags away.

I shrug and grin, then keep going on my way.

The real question is, what didn’t I do to her?

I’m in the cabin for ten minutes when Grace walks through the door.

“Hi,” she says when she spots me. She holds up a planner. “I needed this so I can reorganize my week.”

“Oh?” I ask and wrap my arms around her hips, kissing her.

Yeah, this will never get old.

“What do you need to reorganize?”

“So much.” She sighs. “Gavin did so well without me, and it truly was nice to just be me and not think about every little detail while we were gone, so I want more of that. I want a life outside the lodge.”

“I think that’s great, Grace.”

Her head snaps up.

“What?” I ask.

“You just called me Grace.”

“Is that not your name?”

“It is, but you call me Sunny.”

I nod.

“I do.”

“So why did you call me Grace? Are you mad at me?”

I chuckle, walking up to her again. Like before, I smooth my hands over her hips and then grip her butt, pick her up, and place her on the kitchen table.

I step between her legs.

“I’m not mad at you.”

I kiss her neck.

“Good.”

I press my lips to one side of her throat, then the other.

“Why do you call me Sunny?” she asks, and I pull back. She smiles sheepishly, and her cheeks begin to blush. “I probably should have asked you that a long time ago.”

“The summer I first thought of you as more than Grace Richford, as more than Gavin and Dutton’s little sister, and as more than the daughter of my parents’ best friends, you wore yellow every single day.”

Her brows dip.