Page 85 of The Trouble with Flings

“Okay,” she relents. “Then I guess we’re doing this together.”

“Good girl,” I say, and yes, I say it seductively, because I like riling her up.

“Do not use those two words in front of my family,” she warns.

“I wouldn’t dare. At least not loud enough for them to hear.”

“I mean it, Silver,” she says sharply, but her smile still rings in my ear. “Do not whisper that phrase. Do not even think it. In fact, omit it from your vocabulary for that entire day.”

“Come on, wild girl,” I taunt. “We both know you don’t want that.”

After we end the call, I jog back to the court feeling like I’ve won the lottery.

“Looks like good news,” Wells says.

I can’t wipe the grin off my face.

“You’re glowing like a damn teenager,” Grant says. “Was that Jennifer?”

Ryan’s interest piques. “Who’s Jennifer?”

“The woman he’s been hopping the ferry to see in the Big Apple the past few weekends,” Jock says.

“Fitz left the island? Willingly?” Jamison eyes me and says, “She must be someone special.”

“She is,” I say. “I met her here last summer, and we reconnected in Costa Rica when I was there for a conference in December. You all will meet her at Easter, and I’m meeting her family this weekend.”

“Dude!” Wells claps me on the back. “That’s great news!”

“Yeah. I’m pretty stoked.”

“I knew she’d succumb to the Silver charm. We’re irresistible,” Wells says.

“At least one of us is,” I tease.

“Took her long enough to see the error of her ways.” Grant hikes a thumb over his shoulder at me and says to Jamison, Ryan, and Jock, “She friend zoned him for months.”

“Man,” Ryan says. “I know all about that zone. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle. The ones who make it out are lucky. I can’t believe she had this guy in the friend zone. He’s got looks, personality, charm, and he’s a damn Silver.”

“She doesn’t care about my name.” As I say it, I realize how true it is, and that’s a fucking fantastic feeling. I don’t tell them that this step we’re taking isn’t a promise of forever, because I know with Jennifer, it’s a baby step in a line of many on a winding road. But she trusts me to be there for her and the baby, and that’s huge.

“Daddy Dock!”

We all spin around at the sound of Hadley’s chipper voice to see Jock and Daphne’s six-year-old daughter and her bestie, Ritchie, Ryan’s six-year-old nephew, sprinting toward us.

“Uncle Ryan!” Ritchie hollers. “We had ice cream and hot dogs!”

Behind them, Jock and Daphne’s twin toddlers, Harrison and Hank, are shouting, “Dadaduck!” wriggling like puppies as Daphne, a sweet, curvy blond, lifts them out of the double stroller. Their tiny legs hit the ground running.

Jock scoops up Hadley, her light-brown hair swinging around her shoulders. Her giggles ring out as he kisses her cheek. A decade ago, Jock lost his girlfriend and baby in a horrific accident, the impact of which left him too traumatized to be close to children. On top of that loss, the accident had severed his relationship with his twin brother, Archer. Many torturous years later, he and Archer finally rebuilt that broken fence, and it warms my heart to see him as a happy, loving father and husband.

Wells and I intercept the twins. I sweep Harrison into the air, and he squeals with delight. It’s easy to tell the twins apart. Harrison is dark like Jock, while Hank is fairer, like Daphne. I wonder if we’ll have a girl or a boy and whether it will have Jennifer’s dark hair or her fierce independence and rebellious spirit, or if it’ll be fairer haired and inherit my instinct to read a room before showing my hand.

“Ball! Ball!” Harrison shouts in the most adorable high-pitched voice.

“You want the ball, kiddo?” I ask, and he nods, bouncing wide-eyed and excited in my arms. “Hey, Jamison, can you grab the ball for the champ?”

“You got it.” Jamison carries it over.