“Yeah, she’s doing a good job.”
I smile, before it hits me.How much does Ivy know?
“Mm hmm.” Ivy pats her belly. “Be careful, golden boy. She looks like someone who might accidentally matter to you.”
Pregnant women should be banned from seeing straight through a man.
“I like her,” Ivy adds. “And she looks like she needs a soft landing.”
Before I can respond, noise erupts behind us.
The triplets sprint past with a shriek, Penny chasing them, yelling, “Stop touching Pickle’s butt, Max!”
I blink. “Should I…?”
“No,” Ivy says. “Mitchell will stop them before everything gets too out of hand.”
Fair enough.
I drift toward Delaney, not consciously choosing to—some instinct pulls me into her orbit before I can talk myself out of it.
She sees me before I reach her. Her lips curve in a smile, small at first, then blooming.
Dammit.
“Sunshine,” I drawl, leaning one elbow lazily on her table. “Enjoying market life?”
“It’s… a lot,” she laughs. “Everyone keeps talking to me.”
“That’s Coyote Glen,” Savannah tells her. “We bond aggressively.”
Delaney shakes her head, bemused.
I’d bottle that expression if I could.
Before I can be charming, or stupid, the music stops abruptly.
Then a voice blares over the speakers.
“Coyote Glen!”
“Oh no,” Savannah groans. “Who gave the mic to?—”
“Are you ready for the best damn Saturday surprise ever?”
I freeze.
That voice.
I’d know it anywhere.
The whole crowd starts buzzing.
And then…
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer crows, “Welcome back to Coyote Glen… Wild Reverie!”
People scream. Cheer. Children sprint. Someone drops a bag of apples.
