Page 59

“She’s a good kid. We don’t worry too much,” Silas said.

“Speak for yourself.” Cooper huffed, aiming his gaze at Dex and Viggo. “Just wait. Anni will be out here soon enough.”

Viggo scowled. “Anni is at home with a babysitter, watching Bluey. She is not thinking about football games and parties with cute boys and pretty girls.”

“Yet,” Dex interjected, snickering at his husband’s fierce expression. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ve still got years of Bluey.”

“I’m still here.” Gretchen grinned, flopping beside Amir.

Reg tugged his daughter’s ponytail playfully and turned to me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I pressed my thigh against his as the cheerleaders exited and Fallbrook’s team rushed the field. “I can’t tell if this is weird or not. Cooper’s my boss, you know.”

“We’re friends now, remember?”

I glanced meaningfully at the men surrounding us and whispered, “Do you think they buy it?”

“Unclear. But it’s not like we’ll be making out in the bleachers. See, Amir’s mom is picking him up any minute now, and Gretch will probably spend the next two hours talking your ear off.”

I chuckled. “I don’t mind.”

Reg smiled, and that goopy feeling hit me all over again.

The game began soon after with ear-splitting exuberance. I’d been warned that Wood Hollow took football seriously, but man, they weren’t kidding. The bleachers practically swayed with feet stomping, jumping, and impromptu singalongs. I was more surprised than I should have been that high school students seemed to know all the words to “Sweet Caroline.”

Even Gretchen joined in. She’d squeezed in next to me after her buddy had left and yes, it was a little surreal to be in a La Rue sandwich between father and daughter. Reg and I were glued at the knees in a way that could have been blamed on cramped quarters while Gretch had no qualms about invading personal space. She leaned on my arm as she either read her book or chatted with me about random topics when the volume in the stands died down.

“You could come to my math tournament if you want. It’s next weekend. I know it might be a little boring, but it’s much shorter than a football game.” She sighed.

“You’re really not a football fan, are you?”

Gretchen fluttered her lashes theatrically, crossed her eyes, and stuck her tongue out. “Nope. I go to Rhys’s games ’cause Dad says we should support each other. I guess Aunt Layla used to have to go Dad’s games and he had to go to her dance recitals. I only have to stay till my mom gets here. She’s having dinner with her new boyfriend. Chad. He’s nice, but it’s…weird.”

I snorted, pausing to cheer along with the roaring fans in our section as our quarterback threw the ball into the end zone. “Why is it weird?”

“I don’t know. I guess ’cause I’m young and impressionable. That’s what Dad says, anyway.” She fiddled with the buttons on her black-and-gold sweater and continued. “We’re not supposed to know they’re smoochy smoochy in love.”

I didn’t bother hiding my laugh this time. “Smoochy smoochy, eh?”

“Yeah. Chad has two kids. I don’t know how old they are, or what they’re like. Mom says they’re nice, but I think she said that so I wouldn’t worry. I like to know these things,” she added matter-of-factly.

“Why? Does it matter?”

“Yes. If they’re terrible, it wouldn’t be good. But I can’t ask yet.” Gretchen gnawed her lower lip. “You could get a neutral opinion for me.”

I pointed at my chest. “You want me to ask your mom what her boyfriend’s kids are like? I don’t even know your mom.”

“That’s easy. I’ll introduce you. She’s really nice and very pretty. I don’t look like her at all.”

I frowned at the self-deprecating comment. “You’re pretty.”

Another eye roll. “Thanks, but I think my brains are more important.”

I had no idea what to say, so I clapped at the next successful Hornets’ play, then tapped her book. “That doesn’t look like math. What are you reading?”

“A Tale of Two Cities. I’m trying to get a head start on the high school English Lit required reads, and this is one of them.”

“Wait. You’re in high school?”