Page 321 of Wild Card 13

No, some old, frightened part of me whispered.Yes, the rest of me answered.

I opened the door. Dottie launched herself out of the back seat like a tiny, low-to-the-ground missile, immediately tangling her leash around Ty’s shin and nearly ending his career in the gravel. “Dottie,” I snapped.

She ignored me, thrilled by nature, freedom, and the smell of grilled meat.

“Great entrance,” Ty snickered, hopping once to free his leg.

“I trained her myself.”

“Clearly.”

We made it five steps before Zee abandoned the dock and started across the lawn with the energy of a man who had been waiting several fiscal quarters for this exact moment. “Interesting,” he called.

I lifted my coffee cup. “Use more words.”

“You two arrive together now?”

“We both own calendars,” I offered.

Marco appeared beside him, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest. “And secrets.”

Behind them, Bea was still staring at me. Not in shock. Her expression had gone soft around the edges, her hand still resting on her belly, her mouth parted like she had seen something she knew was coming and still was not prepared for how it felt when it arrived.

Bea had watched me fold myself into professionalism for months. She had watched me survive being in the same building as Ty. She had watched me choose carefully and hurt quietly and pretend that competence could cover every bruise.

Now she was looking at me like I had stepped into sunlight.

Ty’s shoulder brushed mine.

Alois’s eyes moved from my face to Ty’s hand, which had settled at the small of my back so naturally neither of us had noticed. One of his eyebrows rose.

“Alois,” Ty said.

“Burns.”

“Good party.”

“Do not let it affect your game.”

Ty blinked. Then he grinned. “It’s August.”

Alois took a sip of water. “Do not let it affect your offseason training.”

Bea covered her mouth, but I saw the smile.

Lo made a small sound that might have been a laugh and might have been emotional distress. “Ezra.”

“I’m doing nothing,” Ezra said.

“You are smiling like you won money.”

“I might have.”

I turned sharply. “Dad.”

Ezra held up both hands, but his grin did not move. “I did not bet. I am merely enjoying the fruits of patience.”

“You have never been patient in your life,” Lo said. “You meddled.”