Jezebel turned from where she was whipping up eggs and bacon to glare at Delilah seated on one of the bar chairs in her kitchen, watching her curiously. “Like what?” Playing dumb sometimes worked. She hoped this was one of those times. “Like you’ve been getting it from all angles,” her sister teased. Jezebel instead chose to focus on the breakfast. Saturday brunch was their thing. Even before Delilah had been diagnosed with cancer, they’d done it as often as possible. They’d both had demanding schedules, so Saturday brunch usually happened once a month, if so often, but now, Jezebel made the time, even where it seemed like there was none, for her sister. Life was short. Her thin, frail looking sister reminded her of that daily. “I know it’s not Lance—you already told me that was an epic failure.” She sighed and dragged a hand over her face. “I at least thought he was bi.” Jezebel glared at her over her shoulder. “You set me up with a bisexual guy?”Delilah blew out a dismissive breath.
