“It’s a long story.”
“Was Liam the bad dog?”
“Yes.”
Bobbi considered that, then she nodded. “That tracks.”
Liam laughed softly, the sound settling comfortably into the room. It always did that now.
Five months ago, I had still been cataloging every small interaction with him. Every touch. Every look. Now he was simply part of the room. Part of the routine.
That was highly suspicious.
Bobbi moved another sheep. I leaned forward and moved three. Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that.”
“I just did.”
Bobbi stared at the board with narrowed eyes. “Okay.” She leaned back slightly. “I see what you’re doing.”
Markie leaned down again. “BAD MOVE.”
Bobbi glared at him. “You’re biased.”
Liam scratched the side of Markie’s neck, and the bird leaned into it happily. The sight warmed my chest before I could stop it. Markie adored him.
Completely.
And Bobbi adored him too.
That had been obvious from the very first time Liam had patiently explained the rules of a card game to her for nearly twenty minutes while she interrupted every sentence with a question. He never rushed her. Never corrected her sharply. Never treated her as something inconvenient.
Bobbi suddenly turned around and looked at him. “Are you going to marry Zoey?”
My head snapped up. “What?”
Liam paused mid-scratch.
Markie tilted his head. “MARRY.”
Bobbi waited patiently.
Liam looked at me.
I looked at the board. “I’m focusing on sheep,” I said. “We are playing a game.”
“That was not an answer,” Bobbi said. “You didn’t say no.”
“Bobbi,” I hissed.
She turned back toward Liam. “Would you?”
Liam cleared his throat. “I care about Zoey very much.”
Bobbi narrowed her gaze. “That was also not an answer.”
Markie leaned forward. “MARRY.”
“Traitor,” I muttered.
