Mika took one step out of Rhett's shadow.
"You know what's really scary?" I continued, pulling the whale out and holding it up. "Trying to get the tail fins symmetrical. See this one? Little wonky. I might have to start over."
"It's not wonky," Mika said. Her voice was so soft I nearly missed it.
"No?"
She shook her head, still not quite looking at me. "It's good."
"Thanks, Mika." I set the whale on the floor between us—neutral territory. "You can hold it if you want. But I gotta warn you—"
She finally looked up. "Warn me what?"
"If you hold it, you're legally required to name it. Those are the rules."
"What rules?"
"Whale rules. Very official." I nodded seriously. "Margaret told me. She's seventy-three, so she knows everything."
A smile tugged at the corner of Mika's mouth. "What if I name it something weird?"
"Weird is encouraged. I gave Rhett a pig named Herbert."
"Herbert?" She giggled. "That's an old-person name."
"He's a very distinguished pig."
Mika took a tentative step forward, then another. She crouched down and picked up the whale, turning it over in her small hands. "Can I name him Kevin?"
"Kevin the Whale." I considered it. "Perfect. Very dignified."
She grinned—gap-toothed and bright—and the fear was gone. She held Kevin up to show Rhett. "Look! I get to name him!"
"I see that." Rhett's voice was warm, but when I glanced up, he wasn't looking at Mika.
He was looking at me. And his expression—soft, almost proud—raised goosebumps on my arms.
He didn't look uncomfortable. He looked... hungry. Like he'd watched me shift from enforcer to yarn-guy and wanted both.
I stood up too fast, blood rushing in my ears. Rhett stood too, and we were suddenly close—close enough to smell cedar and see the place where he'd missed a spot shaving in the morning.
"You're good with kids," he said, quiet enough that only I could hear.
"Kids are easier than adults. They don't ask you to pick a lane."
He reached out for my hand, and I took it. "You okay?"
No. I wanted to pull him into the equipment room and kiss him until neither of us remembered there were children three feet away. I wanted to taste his mouth again and feel the scratch of his beard on my lips.
"Yeah," I lied. "I'm good."
His mouth curved like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Then Mika tugged on his jeans, breaking the moment.
***
Jake and Evan's place was a third-floor walkup. Evan had said, "The more the merrier," when I asked about the kids. By the time we got there with eight kids and half the Storm roster, the stairs creaked ominously under the weight.
"Is it always like this?" Rhett asked, one step behind me. He had Mika on his shoulders.
