Naomi groaned. “You two are unnatural. Your tiny brains are in sync or something.”
“Tiny brain? I’m from Kansas, Naomi. We’re all about big there.”
“That’s why she loves me,” Smith teased, saw the startled expression come and go on Erin’s face, and prayed he hadn’t ruined things by trying to be funny. Then he realized he wouldn’t mind if Erin loved him for his size, his brain, or just because.
Huh. What to make of that?
Erin cleared her throat. “Naomi, the question is, how many species of bear are there?”
Naomi and Reid conferred, and Naomi asked, “Like, American species?”
“The card saysglobalin parentheses.” Erin sounded apologetic, but the little faker liked winning as much as Smith did. He would never have figured her to be so cutthroat.
“I, er…” Naomi made a comical attempt to hide the fact she consulted google again.
Smith cleared his throat. “That’s ten seconds. Your answer?”
“Twelve species.”
Smith shook his head. “Nope. It’s eight.”
“Correct. Smith, not you, Naomi.” Erin waved the card at her.
“You guys have to be cheating,” Reid accused with a suspicious look at Smith. “Who the hell knows species of bears?”
“I’m a guy with hidden talents,” Smith growled. “And I can name you each of them too.” He ticked off his fingers. “The American Black Bear, the Asiatic Black Bear, the Brown Bear, the Giant Panda, Polar Bear, Sloth Bear, Spectacled Bear, and Sun Bear.”
Reid gaped at him and stole the card from Erin’s hand to verify his answers.
“Hey.”
“Wow. The species aren’t listed on here.” Then Reid used his phone for the answers and asked Smith, “What? Is it national bear week or something?”
Naomi yanked another card out of the box. “Okay. What are a group of bats called?”
“I know this one,” Erin said. “A colony.”
“A group of batsin flight,” Naomi corrected, looking smug. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“A cloud,” Smith answered. “And before you ask, an aglet.”
“Huh?” Reid frowned.
“The question on the back of the card is ‘What’s the plastic end of a shoelace called?’ It’s an aglet.” Smith sighed. “It’s so hard being a know-it-all.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about marrying well,” Erin piped in with a grin. “Not with that big brain on top of your big body.”
“In his big fat head,” Reid muttered.
“Well, bigger is better.” Smith gave him an evil smile. “But again, you’ll marry well, so don’t worry, bro.” Smith grinned.
Reid blinked, then grinned back, his eyes warm. “Whatever. I still get dibs on Erin’s lemon bars.” He vaulted over the couch faster than Smith would have credited him.
Smith shook his head. “So weak. And they’re lemon meltaways.”
“You tell him, Smith.” Erin nodded.
His heart felt too full, the unfamiliar sense of belonging and camaraderie foreign, and so missed. He’d experienced that kind of acceptance in the military for a time. But a need for change had clawed at him during his time in service, and Smith had made the decision to leave.
