Yours at Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page B

without him. That had been the first time he noticed Lyric wanted to be with Oliver much more than she wanted to be with him. Of course, it might have had something to do with the frogs he’d put in her backpack the day before.
    “We wanted to find out if the color of a candle affected its burn rate,” Lyric said, looking only slightly mortified.
    “How many cabinets caught fire?” Ella asked.
    “Two.” Neil scooped more mashed potatoes onto his plate. “It was a good thing Oliver had his wits about him and smothered the fire, rather than panicking.”
    “Oliver always had a good head on his shoulders,” Hank added. “He was a bright kid.”
    Quinn took a deep breath. Listening to them talk about his brother, he half expected him to come strolling through the doorway, sit his ass down, and charm everyone like he always did. Hell, Quinn still picked up the phone at least once a week to call him, before remembering the accident wasn’t a dream.
    That Oliver was never coming back.
    Lyric’s warm, soft hand took his underneath the table. It fit inside his better than any other girl’s ever had, and the urge to pull her up and drag her to the guesthouse, where he could do what he should have done four years ago, raced through his veins. He should have stayed. Should have made love to her over and over and over again.
    He looked at her. She looked back with tenderness etched around her eyes, her lightly glossed lips soft and parted.
    “Mom did get a new kitchen out of it.” Ella raised her wine glass.
    Laughter sounded from the kitchen. Caroline, Douglas, and the kids were definitely having a great time eating dinner in there. They’d thought it a nice idea to spend dinner alone with their grandchildren so their grown children could enjoy a meal without interruption.
    “My favorite Lyric story—”
    “When did this become the Lyric hour?” Lyric protested, releasing his hand far too soon and glaring at her sister.
    “As soon as you were born, baby sis.” Ella looked at her brothers. “Remember when Lyric tried to legally change her name?”
    “You tried to change your name?” Quinn asked. He loved her name.
    “Who names their daughter Lyric ? It’s embarrassing, and kids used to ask me all the time if I was related to limerick, and did I carry notes around with me. Was my favorite TV show The Sopranos ? It sucked.”
    “She thought the principal could do it—and when he said he couldn’t, she asked the librarian.” Ella chuckled.
    “My library card was the only official looking thing I had with my name on it! What did I know?”
    “The best was the mailman, though. What was his name? Phil? He really wanted to help you and brought you that letter, remember?”
    A smile so genuine and beautiful crossed Lyric’s face that Quinn gulped and prayed no one noticed.
    “Jill Whetstone.” Lyric leaned back into her seat. “He brought me a letter addressed to Jill Whetstone. I still have it somewhere.”
    “You wanted your name to be Jill?” Quinn asked.
    “Yep.”
    “What was in the letter?”
    Lyric’s eyes lit with joy. “A note from the Name Fairy telling me that I was very lucky to have such a unique name, because not every little girl who had a dad working in the music business got to be special like that.”
    “Aww,” cooed Lyric’s sisters-in-law.
    “It’s too bad you can’t even carry a tune.” Hank put his napkin on his empty plate.
    “Says the guy who’s tone deaf.” Lyric sat up and put her elbows on the table.
    “At least I didn’t go around singing at the top of my lungs all the time, hoping to be the next Madonna.”
    Lyric pointed at her brother. “You were Madonna!”
    “For Halloween. Won best costume, too. Shit, that was a great party.”
    “Quarter, Dad,” Hank Jr. said, walking into the room and shaking his head. “Grandma said to tell you guys that Lyric and Quinn are on dish duty.”
    Lyric pushed back her chair and stood. “Tell Grandma guests don’t do the