It wasn't just the food. It was the feeling. The laughter, the banter, the comfort... She had never experienced a dinner like this before.
For the first time that evening, she wasn't Jean Adams the CEO, or Mrs. Kingsley the strategic bride.
She was just a woman eating good food... at a real dinner table... with a strange but oddly warm family.
After eating like a starved woman who hadn't seen a proper meal in a decade, Jean slumped back in her chair.
She could barely sit straight. Her stomach was painfully full, tight, and pressing against the waistband of her skirt like a rebellion was about to erupt inside.
She leaned toward Logan, grabbing his arm for support. "Logan…" she whispered dramatically. "I think I'm going to die."
Logan chuckled softly, then patted her hand. "Come on. Let's get you out to the garden. A little walk might help you ease up."
Martha immediately perked up, concern written all over her face. "Maybe she should lie down instead?"
