Page 128 of Gold Rush

Sawyer nods in agreement.

Scarlett glances at Mom, then at me.

I’m not sure what to say. This potential awkwardness didn’t occur to me in advance.

We’re not engaged, like Lili and Charlie. We don’t have kids together, like Kit and Collins. We’re not even actually dating. These photos will be a permanent record of the eve of Lili’s wedding—her last night as a Kensington. I want Flynn’s presence to be a part of it, and I don’t allow myself to overthink why.

“Jump in now.”

Flynn’s eyes fly to mine, his gaze intense as he scans my expression. He’s hesitating, and I can’t tell why. He doesn’t want to be included? He’s remembering we’re pretending?

“You too, Cap,” Wren says as she walks toward me. “Our side is looking a little sparse.”

She’s not wrong. There are five in the opposite row, only two of us.

“If raising you hadn’t taken all of our time, energy, and sanity, we might have had a third child,” Dad tells Wren.

“That’d better not be part of my graduation party speech,” she retorts, wrapping an arm around Sawyer as he reaches her. “Rory’s was ten minutes of how parenthood is a magical experience.”

Flynn appears uncharacteristically unsure as he steps into the open spot between me and Wren.

“Sure this is okay?” he asks by my ear, low enough for none of my family to hear.

I wrap my arm around his waist. “Yes.”

“Okay, that’s everyone?” the photographer calls.

“That’s everyone,” Crew confirms. “Aside from Ben and Jerry.”

The photographer frowns, confused by the mention of my aunt and uncle’s beagles. “Should I wait⁠—”

“He’s kidding,” Scarlett says. “We’re all here.”

“We should have brought Finch,” Flynn whispers to me.

I’m smiling long before the photographer tells us to.

39

I’m discussing different teams’ playoff prospects with Dean Garner when I hear a voice I absolutely did not expect to hear here.

“Flynn Parks? Is that you?”

I turn around to face Lloyd Clarke, setting down my drink so I can shake his hand. “Mr. Clarke. I mean, Lloyd. How are you?”

“I’m excellent.” He glances around the crowded room. “Beautiful wedding.”

Lloyd is wearing a suit tonight. Aside from that detail, he looks as at ease and assured as he did at his office.

“I’m going to grab a refill,” Dean says, taking his empty glass.

I nod at him before refocusing on Lloyd.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he tells me, taking Dean’s place across from me. “I wasn’t expecting to see my new attorney here.”

“You know the Kensingtons?” I ask.

“Not well. My ex-wife is British. Our son was at school with Charlie for a time.”