Page 14 of The Interception (Southern Sports Sweethearts #2)

Layne laughs but my sister puts her foot down.

“I think it’s time for some water and a nap, then we’ll see about another dance party, okay?

” Lula sticks her lower lip out but heeds her mother’s direction.

Sarah Beth lifts Lula into her arms and carries her down the hall.

“I’m going to lay down with her. You two get to work making a great dessert! ”

The living room is a disaster, but Layne is already on it.

She picks up the breakfast plates and heads to the kitchen, grabbing a few stray stuffed animals on the way to drop in the stuffy bin.

I move around the room and put the rest of the toys away and grab Lula’s mass of coloring books to put on the shelf.

Once I’ve picked up the last crayon, Layne leans on the door frame and sighs.

“Dishes cleaned. I’m so tired. That kiddo is a hoot and a half.”

I can’t stop my smile. “I know, she’s amazing. You didn’t have to do the dishes, but I appreciate it. You need a break before we work out a dessert recipe?”

“Uh, no, I think I’m all right. I worked out a few ideas this morning when Lula was still asleep and your sister was exercising.” She grabs the paper pad from the counter and hands it to me.

“Hand pies? That could be good. You know, a few years ago, I did lose the dessert round to a woman who made mini pecan pies. We have the same judges as we did that year, so it might be a good way to go.” I scan the list and see a variety of cookies and a banana bread recipe.

They would all be good, but the pies call to me.

“Let’s try the pies first and go from there. ”

“What flavor do you want to go with?”

She has apple, cherry, pecan, pumpkin…all the usual pie flavors for fall, which would be perfect for game season, but we need that twist she seems to be so good at to really knock it out of the park.

“What if we make s’mores?”

“S’mores? In pie?” She bites her lip and goes into visualization mode. I let her ponder over it and wait. Her eyes brighten, giving me a dose of dopamine to lighten my mood further. “What if instead of just chocolate, we do caramel and chocolate?”

“I could go for that. What kind of crust?”

“Well, the regular pie crust could work, but since s’mores are traditionally a graham cracker, we can try it.

Let me work on a crust with a decent consistency for a hand pie.

Maybe you can come up with some other variations like sea salt caramel, maybe bananas, who knows. Brainstorm and we’ll go from there.”

“Cherry,” I say. “Chocolate cherries are a favorite, right? Let’s do a salted caramel version and a cherry version, sound good?”

“Perfect.”

Layne gets busy with testing pie crusts while I figure out the best way to do the filling for both versions. The first few times, I end up with cherry filling the consistency of runny stew, but by my third go-around, I’ve got it thick enough that it doesn’t merge with the marshmallow.

I can’t stop glancing at Layne and thinking about the fun we had with my sister and niece.

She fit right in with our little family dynamic with no trouble at all, a fact I’m not sure how to process yet.

Especially since I spent all of practice convincing myself there wasn’t any room for more.

Of course, we can still be friends even after she goes back to Savannah, but I can’t shake the feeling that once she leaves, I might never see her again.

It does things to my insides I don’t want to think about.

“I think this version might work, but I’m not sure. Do you think regular pie crust would ruin it?” she asks.

“We can try both. Let’s do a test fry and see what happens.”

Layne makes the salted caramel s’more pies while I make the chocolate cherry s’mores. Both smell amazing, but I think I’m going to like the cherry better.

“This is a lot of fried food. We’re going to give the judges heart attacks. Acid reflux at the least,” she teases.

“Hey, it’s tailgating food. No one expects it to be super healthy.” I lean close to her while she masterfully lowers the pies into the oil. The first few don’t go so well, and I realize she’s right. The graham cracker crust lets too much oil in, and the marshmallow seeps out.

“I’m gonna have to go with the regular crust. Drat. I hope it’s still s’more-ish.” She drops the regular ones in the oil and we watch for the marshmallow to go goopy again. When it doesn’t, we both breathe a sigh of relief.

“Whew, okay. Now for a taste test,” she says, and plates them up. After a slight cooling off period, we dig in.

“Okay, I can’t decide with one is best,” I admit. “I thought I’d like the cherry, but yours is good too.”

“Can we do both?” she asks and wipes her mouth.

“I don’t see why not. I mean, they’re small, so we could easily make them a single serving, one of each flavor.” I finish mine and drop the dishes into the sink.

“We’ll save these last ones for Sarah Beth and Lula.” Layne covers them and puts her dishes in the sink with mine. Now that our task is done, I need to take her back to pick up her truck. I don’t want to, but I do need a nap. I’m completely spent, and the next round of the competition is tomorrow.

Still, I don’t want her to leave without letting her know how much it means to me that she treated Sarah Beth so well while I was at practice.

I lean against the counter beside her and cross my arms. “I wanted to thank you for earlier today. I haven’t seen my sister laugh like that in months. It means a lot to me.”

Layne’s smile falters. “She told me about how her husband died. It’s so tragic and awful. I’m so sorry, Ender.”

“It’s been hard. I won’t lie.” Running a hand over my hair, I squeeze the memory out again.

“It’s sweet you’ve taken them in, but I hope she can get the insurance and everything settled soon. It’s probably hard to lose everything at once.”

I nod but bite my tongue. If I speak, there’s danger I’ll break down, and that’s not something I need to do with my sister still in the house. I have to be stronger for her, solid and steady, unwavering.

“What’s going to happen?” Layne asks.

“I guess it depends on whether we win this contest or not. I plan to give my half to her as a down payment on a small house.” I motion around my home.

“I mean, this place is clearly big enough for all three of us, but I understand her need to be on her own, in her own house, doing her own thing. If the contest doesn’t work out, then I’ll sell this place and figure it out from there. ”

“I guess that’s true about needing to be on her own, but it’s still nice that she has you. You’re a great big brother. Trust me, I know all about them. Mine is pretty great, too.”

She shifts a little, putting her more in my bubble. So much so, her shoulder brushes my upper arm.

“Thanks. I try, but sometimes it’s harder than I anticipate. Little things come up and send her into a tailspin. I mean, I understand, but I don’t know what to do when that happens.”

Layne inhales and releases it slowly. “You just love her through it. That’s all you can do sometimes while God sets her path for her. Just gotta keep your eyes on Him, right?”

I gaze down at this amazing woman and my heart warms. “Yeah. Thanks for being here to remind me.”

Layne’s eyes soften. “What are friends for?”