I scoffed. “That’s not true.”
She leaned against the couch, grinning. “Tell you what, Theo. I’ve been eyeing that collection of West Games over there on theshelves. You pick any game, and we’ll be a team against your dad. Think we can beat him?”
Theo perked up. Eyes narrowing at me like this was war. “Game on.”
I smirked. With years of game playing under my belt, they had no idea how ruthless I could be. “You’re both going down.”
Theo dug into the collection and came back with one of the oldest games from the early days of the company. Tower Trouble. A ridiculous mix of balance and strategy. You stacked and stole, traded and defended blocks of all sizes while making your way around the entire board.
“I recall the exact moment in my life when this game came to be.” I joined them on the living room floor. “My brothers and I and Sophie sat around the kitchen table with her mom. We sketched it out. Made up the rules. Decided how the game was won.”
On this day of all days, the memory hit me hard. Those years with Sophie’s mom were the ones I leaned on the most as my ideals of family life.
Now here I was. Playing the game with my son. And a woman who was starting to mean more to me than the piece of paper we’d signed, if I allowed myself to be honest.
“Tower Trouble is so cool,” Theo said, setting it up on the coffee table.
“I actually named this one, you know.” I smirked. “Dad wanted to name it Tumble Down.”
“Tower Trouble is way cooler.”
We tackled the game with gusto. The two of them together made formidable opponents, surprising me at every turn. Adorably, they’d head to the kitchen each play to strategize in whispers so I wouldn’t overhear.
When it came down to the final move, I had them cornered, smug as hell.
“I doubt you can beat that. But go ahead and try. I’ll wait.”
I leaned back against the front of the couch, hands folded behind my head. Cocky per usual.
Jessa turned to Theo, whispering. Suddenly she bolted upright.
“Wait a minute. We’re missing a piece. Why do you have one archer more than we do?”
“Huh?” I grabbed the box lid with all the contents and instructions. “Each team gets three archers, it says. Theo, did you lose a piece when you set it up?”
“No. It’s not my fault.”
We all counted. Sure enough, I had three archers on the board compared to their two.
“We’re missing a red archer. Where is it?” I grumbled.
Maybe I did take game playing too seriously.
Theo’s face turned red. His voice shook. “I didn’t lose it, Dad.”
“I’m not accusing you, son. No need to get worked up.”
“I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Let’s all look around,” Jessa said. Voice of reason between us.
That led to us searching the floor, the couch, the shelves, even the closet where I had more games stashed. Nothing came up.
Like father, like son, Theo and I both crossed our arms and glared.
“Remain calm.” Jessa stood with her hands up between us. “Let the nanny handle this. I think I have a solution.”
She disappeared into the kitchen.
“What is she doing?” Theo asked. His hands covered his eyes. I knew he was tearing up out of frustration. Sometimes the small things really got to him.
