I let go of Celeste’s hand, reach behind my head, and snag a lone giraffe cookie cracker. “That could be fun too. I’ll take it under consideration.”
Felicity bats at my fisted treat with a cooing cheep that has me beaming ear to ear and Ty stretching to jostle her chubby little leg.
“Don’t you dare give in,” Wells warns, reaching across Ty to tap my arm in emphasis. “Make it hurt, Butterscotch.”
Butterscotch—cute. I hope he keeps that nickname for me, even though I haven’t needed one today.
Ivy releases her hold on me and throws her arms up to the sky, in perfect rhythm with a striking drumbeat. “Can we take a moment to rejoice for the ability to be lying here together in the sweltering heat, ganging up on Liam?”
“I’m sensing an unhealthy shift in dynamics here, High Society,” Liam scoffs in mock offense.
“It’s okay, golden god,” Celeste chirps. “You’ve got the Ace. I’m never on a losing team.”
“That’s right, baby girl. I am your god,” he boasts.
“So much for girl power,” I warble.
Celeste winks at me. “You already broke it, teaching him card tricks.”
“What can I say?” I hurl my hand toward the resident pest. “I took pity on him.”
“Hey, no pity. That was a fair trade. I shared my beer,” Liam balks as we both laugh.
“What were you guys doing out here?” Ivy asks as she snuggles up to her husband.
There is a myriad of ways that I could answer in light of our conversations—slicking, choking, children—so I simplify. “We were discussing baby making.”
Ty chuckles and pulls me closer.
Ivy pops straight up, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Are you gonna give Felicity a playmate?”
“Thinking about it,” I confess. “How painful is childbirth?”
She waggles her head back and forth as she ruminates. “It’s like a ring of fire.”
I nod in understanding. “Like the Johnny Cash song. That’s how my first time with Ty was.”
That has everyone cackling. Ty covers his face and howls. Ivy hums her understanding.
Cue the change in music.
And Liam loses it. “That’s our boy. The monster, bedazzled cock strikes again.”
“I really think we’re too fucking close,” Gage snarls.
“Language, Big Guy,” Wells teases since Gage is holding his daughter.
“The fuck?” he contends. “Graves just saidcock.”
“Earmuffs, F-bomb,” Liam jeers. “The big, bald man always has such a potty mouth.”
Felicity pipes up with a squawk of approval, and Ty’s whole face lights up.
“See? She loves her nickname.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if every day could be this carefree?” Celeste muses, and I know she’s feeling what we’ve all felt—what they’ve been battling far longer than I have—the exhaustion for the life that provides so much but plunders even more.
“Yeah,” Ty rasps, his fingers raking up and down my arm.
