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I turn the screen toward Goldie. She snorts as soon as she finishes reading it.

“Like this baby listens to anyone.” She grabs her phone from the table. “I’ll tell him myself.”

She starts typing, but my attention drops to her stomach. Colston’s fucking around, but he’s got a point. Once we’re airborne, Goldie won’t be able to reach me until we land.

“If something starts while I’m gone, call the doctor first. Then Dad or Pops if you need a ride. Or Trace. Or any of the girls. Don’t wait around trying to get ahold of me.”

Goldie looks up from her phone. “I know. I’ve got this, I promise.”

“I hate that I might miss it.”

Her expression changes, and she sets her phone down before squeezing my hand. “So do I. But if this kid decides to show up while you’re gone, I’ll get to the hospital, and you’ll get there as soon as you can.” She pulls her sunglasses back down over her eyes. “The good news is this baby still has a few weeks to go, so you should be good.”

Should be, but that’s not as reassuring as she thinks. There isn’t a better answer than that, though, even if I fucking hate it.

A second later, both our phones start buzzing with the group chat.

COLSTON: hey feral people

COLSTON: shamu and i report soon

COLSTON: somebody go keep goldie girl company while we’re gone

SCOUT: leaving in a few

ELLIE: i’ll head over when i wrap up

TATUM: bringing food later

ANDIE: i can come by too

Goldie looks down at her phone while the replies keep coming.

GOLDIE: i’ll be fine by myself

COLSTON: i know goldie girl

COLSTON: they’re coming anyway

She locks her screen and looks at me. “Your best friend is a dick.”

“He’s your friend too.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

I laugh and check the time. We still have enough room for me to get home, grab my bag, and make the briefing without rushing, but I don’t want to push it any closer.

Goldie follows my glance. “We need to go?”

“Yeah. We’ve got time, but I want to get moving.”

She nods and reaches for her phone and drink while I gather our baskets. The seagulls are still crowded along the edge of the patio, watching us, and I look down at what’s left of my food before tipping it out onto the sand as we start toward the parking lot.

Goldie gasps. “Really? After giving me shit about it?”

I bite back a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m saving the trash can. You know they’d just tear into it if I threw the leftovers away.”

Her delighted laugh follows me off the patio.