Vivi, who’s sitting beside Beck, hands him a spoon, her lips twitching. “Don’t throw food or we’re not going to watch the first preseason game.”
Beck’s face grows serious and he focuses on his plate. My nephew loves hockey, much to his grandfather and namesake’s chagrin. Thelittle troublemaker would rather behave than miss a game, even if it’s only on TV.
Well played, Vivi. Seems like she’s taking to this position better than we expected.
“Of course you can come to the World Series,” Finn says, bringing us back to the conversation.
“You sound pretty sure you’ll be in it,” I tease.
He looks at me, wearing a bewildered frown. “Of course I’m sure. Have you seen the Revs this year? We’re on fire.”
I laugh. My brother has always been the most positive person I know. He’s genuinely a happy guy, and he’s right, his team is primed for this.
“You know who else is on fire?” JJ prods.
Avery, who’s seated next to him on the long bench on one side of the enormous table, shifts, giving him her full attention.
The benches were my mom’s genius idea. Makes it easier to squeeze kids around the table, and they’re not upholstered, meaning no stains on expensive fabric. Pretty important now that we’ve got six preschoolers living here.
“My sister?” Finn grins, dark eyes twinkling. “I heard.”
Vivi nods. “Me too. Dad was going on and on about how amazing she’s been.”
My cheeks burn in response to the praise. It’s been a full week since I first stepped into the net, and every day since, we’ve run similar drills. The team is looking really good, and preseason games start next week.
That, thank god, means it’s almost time to say goodbye to Dirk. He’s still an asshole, though he’s done a better job of hiding it since our talk. But luckily, he hasn’t performed well enough to threaten JJ’s or Sidney’s spots on the team. In a matter of days, he and the other rookie will be heading back to their own teams.
“Nah, though she’s done well.” JJ winks at me, the look making my heart stumble. “I was talking about Avery.”
“Daddy.” Avery’s giggle floats around us.
I nod at her from across the table. “It’s true. She even did a little spin today.”
We’ve been out on the ice with her three times so far. It’s the least I can do since JJ has shown up to every extra practice with the rookies and every early-morning yoga session.
And I love spending time with her. I want so desperately to be a constant positive force in her life, but those feelings I used to have, the ones that were always so impossible to ignore, are getting louder.
“I want to go skating,” Beck yells. “Why haven’t you taken me skating?”
Winnie picks up her wine and takes a long swig. “Not everything is about you, bud.”
“You can come next time,” I promise him, “if it’s okay with your mom.”
“Can I go to the baseball field with Uncle Finn, then?” Dec whines.
“Maybe I can take you and my girls down there one day when they’re practicing,” Hope offers, eyes darting to Winnie. “If that’s okay with the big boss.”
My sister huffs out a laugh. “Are you saying that because I’m their mom or because I’m the CEO of the Revs organization?”
“The CEO part,” Hope says with a laugh. “They don’t care that you’re their mom.”
Winnie snorts. “Yeah.”
“Mommy’s not the boss of the Revs, Grandpa is,” Dec argues.
“So he continues to think,” Winnie grumbles into her glass. She is the official CEO of the baseball division of our family company, but as COO of the entirety of Langfield Corp—including both the Revs organization and the Bolts—Dad has had a tough time letting go of control.
Mari, Hope’s two-year-old, flings a piece of chicken across the table, hitting Finn in the face.
