He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips despite his losing the bet. He itched to text Sadie and let her know she was right. But that would have to wait. No way he was playing with that kind of fire, no matter how innocent it was intended. “He’s a Cubs fan. Or are those not allowed?”
“Marc just doesn’t want to admit the dog has taste!” Denver Grant called from his spot on the couch.
“What’s your dog’s name?” A little boy’s voice rang above the comfortable chaos. Conner looked down to see little Eli Monroe standing at his feet. He’d just turned eight—they’d celebrated that milestone two family dinners ago—but often talked as if he were twenty-eight. Wise beyond his years.
“Boomer, c’mere.” The pup abandoned his new playmate, Zeus, and trotted over. “Boomer, meet Eli.”
Boomer welcomed the kid with a nice, sloppy full-cheek lick. Eli giggled, the sound warming his heart. Veronica had always changed the subject when they talked about kids, but Conner never doubted that knew he wanted many; a house full of laughter just like Eli’s. “Can I give him a treat?”
“No treats for Cubs fans,” Marc grumbled.
“No treats?” Eli repeated, confused. He looked at Conner for clarification.
“He likes carrot sticks,” Conner said, ignoring Marc as he set the appetizers out with the rest. Boomer perked instantly at hearing one of his favorite words. Conner pointed to the veggie tray. “But just one, okay? Even if he begs for more.”
“Okay!”
Conner felt a hard clap on the shoulder and turned to find Chase. He’d hoped Marc’s brother-in-law would be here tonight. He wanted to talk to him about becoming a volunteer firefighter. “He’s a riot, isn’t he?”
“Sure is.”
“Sounds like we missed an interesting family dinner the other night,” Chase said as he filled a plate with appetizers. Conner followed suit. “Sadie’s really working the front desk of the clinic?”
“She’s doing a great job.”
“I’m surprised those two haven’t killed each other yet.”
“Is it really that bad? I only have one sister. We fight from time to time . . .” He let his comment drift on purpose, hoping Chase would fill in the blanks without additional prompt. Hoping he wouldn’t sense how much Conner wanted to know what had gone down between Marc and Sadie. He wasn’t supposed to care, but that ship left the harbor last night when he found her crying on that bench. When he realized just how much she was starting to mean to him.
“Something went down between them a couple years ago,” Chase said noncommittally as he balanced one last pig in a blanket atop his heaping plate of food. “Laurel’s told me about it, but I don’t remember all the details. Something to do with her bailing at a crucial moment. Caused Marc to lose something important—”
“You two girls done gossiping?” Ford Harris called from the living room. “Game’s about to start.”
Seconds later, the sports announcer on Marc’s seventy-inch TV screen announced the first pitch of the game. Chase and Conner filed into the living area to join the rest of the group. The U-shaped conversational sofa allowed them all—eight in total—to sit comfortably, each with their own cup holder and footrest. For as standoffish as Marc could come off, he certainly enjoyed entertaining.
Conner scanned the group, silently testing himself on names.Ford Harris, Ryder and Denver Grant—brothers—Liam Davies, Chase Monroe and his son Eli.He couldn’t remember what each of them did, but he was proud of himself for remembering who they were after only a short time in town.
Boomer lay at Conner’s feet, peering hopefully at him. Poor guy had smelled Edith’s pigs in a blanket the whole drive over. Even if they were as good as currency here, Conner couldn’t resist those puppy-dog eyes. He broke off part of a mini hot dog and held it out for the pup as Marc settled into the seat next to him.
“Long week, huh?” Marc said.
“Yeah.” If all Conner had in his life was the clinic chaos, the statement would still ring true. “Nothing we can’t handle, though.”
“I’m certainly glad you’re here,” Marc said, his focus on the screen. Compliments or expressions of gratitude were not among his strong suits. Never had been in the years Conner’d known him. It meant a great deal to hear him say so.
“It all worked out the way it was supposed to, I’d say.” Conner hadn’t gone into detail about his failed engagement. Marc wasn’t the chit-chatty type for that conversation to have happened at length. But he knew enough. Hopefully, whatever Detective Harlow was trying to dredge up wouldn’t force Conner to be more forthcoming. He didn’t relish the idea of reliving that humiliation a second time around. But after his talk with Sadie last night, one that revolved around lies, he was already contemplating filling Marc in so he wouldn’t be blindsided in the event the detective made trouble. Even if unearned.
“Hope you’re not planning to tuck tail and run after this week is over,” Marc added.
“I’m not going anywhere.”Not by choice.
“You might sing a different tune by the end of the week. Just remember, Judy’s coming back Monday.”
It was dangerous territory, but Conner wasn’t going to stay silent. “Sadie’s doing all right filling in. Especially for having no experience.”
“She bothering you? Sadie?”
The question caught Conner off guard. He dropped the pig in the blanket and Boomer caught it as it rolled off the knee of his jeans. “Not at all.”
