If she just happened to have her nose pressed against the glass and was leaving a ridiculously large smudge, well, that was her right, too.

But honestly, it was hard to look away when Andrew and Kennedy were making out—making-out making out—right there on the deck for God and everyone to see. Including the neighbors, such as Gracie. Kennedy, in a black bikini, her red hair like a beacon against her pale, pale skin, Andrew with his shirt off.

Gracie’s stomach turned. Jeez. Take it inside already.

She wasn’t jealous. She sighed. Crossed her arms. Okay, so maybe there was a teeny, tiny bit of jealousy trying to work its way into her system. It stung, knowing that while Andrew had been with her, he’d really wanted to be with Kennedy.

Mostly she was disgusted, both at their current display and that they didn’t care about Luke enough not to wait awhile before officially becoming a couple. God, it’d only been a week since Luke had discovered them together. The least they could have done was wait a month or so before rubbing their relationship in his face.

Poor Luke. If he saw this, it would kill him. Something about that scenario niggled at her brain. She frowned. Luke...

Oh, no!

She turned, leaped for her phone on the bedside stand as someone knocked on her door—clear indication it wasn’t any of her brothers. “Come in,” she called, still hopeful she could catch Luke before he left his house.

Too late. Luke was already following Molly into the room.

“Luke’s here,” Molly, queen of the obvious, said, baby Carter on her hip.

“Hey,” he said, giving Gracie a grin. The swelling around his eye had gone down considerably, enough that it no longer looked as if he was squinting all the time. The skin was still black, but fading, the outer edges of the bruise bleeding into blue, then gray. He lifted the basket of clothes in his hands. “Where do you want this?”

“Luke offered to carry it up for me,” Molly said, wiggling her eyebrows at Gracie behind Luke’s back, then wiping drool from Carter’s chin. “Wasn’t that sweet?”

Gracie blushed. Tossed her phone onto the bed. “Yes. It was very nice. Thank you,” she told him.

And noticed her purple bra was there, right there, smack-dab on top of the pile.

“I’ll take it,” she blurted out, rushing over to grab the basket from him. He held on for a moment, sent a sly glance at the bra, then back to her, the brow over his good eye raised as if he was teasing her. Or flirting with her, which was just too crazy a thought to contemplate. She tugged until he let go. “Thanks.”

“Luke!” Caleb cried from the doorway, as if discovering gold in them thar hills. Still in his pajamas, his hair sticking up, his feet bare, he rushed into the room and tackled Luke’s legs. “Luke! Come see my LEGOs!”

“Luke and Gracie have to go to work.” Molly laid her hand on Caleb’s head while Carter babbled and reached for his brother’s hair. The baby loved to pull hair. “He can look at your LEGOs another time.”

“No,” Caleb grunted as he pulled on Luke’s hand. “Now. Come. On!”

“Do you mind?” he asked Gracie. “We have a few minutes, right?”

Did she mind getting him out of the room where he could possibly catch a glimpse of the two people who, just last week, had been his girlfriend and his best friend pawing at each other?

“Nope. I don’t mind at all. Go right on ahead.”

“Cute and good with kids?” Molly asked in a low murmur as Caleb dragged Luke away. “That boy is a keeper.”

“We’re just friends,” she reminded her stepmother for what had to be the hundredth time. “Coworkers and friends.”

Molly gave her a serene smile—the same one she bestowed upon Gracie’s dad whenever he tried to argue with her. The one that said “aren’t you cute, in your deluded little way?” “I realize things have changed since I was seventeen, but it seems to me there’s only one reason a boy spends several nights a week with a girl—two of those nights at her house surrounded by her six little brothers. And it’s not because he wants to be in the friend zone.”

Just because she and Luke had hung out a few times—the first being the night he’d told her about Kennedy cheating on him—didn’t mean anything. Yes, she’d gone to his house twice, and okay, so he’d spent a few nights here, as well. All they did was watch movies or play with her brothers or just talk. Nothing romantic or even remotely date-like.

Gracie glanced at the window, but all she saw from this distance was the roof of Andrew’s house and the endless blue sky. “Luke and his girlfriend just broke up last week. I doubt he’s looking for a replacement already.” And she was smart enough not to want to be his rebound. “Even if he did want another girlfriend, he wouldn’t be looking at me.”

Switching Carter to her other hip, Molly frowned, an unusual occurrence for someone who was always so calm and happy. “What does that mean?”

Gracie lifted a shoulder. Pretended great interest in matching a pair of socks from the basket. “Just that I’m the complete opposite of Kennedy and girls like her.”

“Did you ever think,” Molly asked quietly as she brushed a strand of Gracie’s hair back, “that might be exactly what Luke wants?”

Gracie couldn’t meet Molly’s eyes. Tears clogged her throat. She wished she could throw herself into Molly’s arms. Tell her about Andrew and how stupid she’d been to trust him. How afraid she was to believe that Luke could like her.

How much she was starting to like him as more than a friend.

But she couldn’t say any of that. Didn’t want the woman who’d been more of a mom to her than her own mother to know what she’d done. To be disappointed in her.

“Friends,” Gracie said, hoping Molly wouldn’t notice the unsteadiness of her voice. “Just friends.”

Molly looked as if she wanted to say more, but luckily Luke came back. “One of the twins is calling for you, Mrs. Weaver. He’s in the bathroom.”

“Please call me Molly. Mrs. Weaver is my mother-in-law. And no one wants to be confused with that woman,” Molly added under her breath, then winked at Gracie, who grinned back.

Grandma was one mean old lady.

“Hey,” Luke said after Molly and Carter left, “before I forget, my sister asked me to watch my nieces Friday night. You want to come over? Babysit with me?”

Her heart beat hard and heavy in her chest, but she forced herself to remain calm. Just friends, remember? “Sure.”

“You don’t have to,” he added, wandering around her room, his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I mean, you must get tired, being around kids all the time.”

“I get a little tired of it,” she heard herself admit, then immediately felt guilty. “Not tired,” she amended quickly. “More like sometimes I just want...”

“A break?”

She smiled. Nodded as she folded a tank top. “It seems selfish. Molly and Dad don’t ask me to babysit every day or anything, and they make sure I have plenty of privacy when I am at home.”

They’d even given her her own suite of rooms at the far end of the house—her bedroom, a front sitting room and bathroom. Trusted her enough to leave her alone in her room with a boy.

And hadn’t that backfired on them? She’d brought Andrew to her room, had practically thrown herself at him, telling him he could kiss her if he wanted. Making out with him on her bed.

Not that her wanting to kiss him had given him any right to lie to her. To use her. But she couldn’t deny that she held part of the blame for going too fast. He hadn’t forced her to sleep with him.

She’d loved him. Enough to want to be with him. For him to be her first.

Too much to say no.

She slid a glance at Luke as he studied the pictures on her bulletin board.

Her parents gave her plenty of freedom to make her own choices. Her own mistakes.

She’d made a doozy with Andrew, and it was one she refused to repeat.