Page 57 of The Dating Pact

Dylan elbowed Nate. “Why don’t you go in and join them? You love to stir up shit.”

Nate accepted the words like a compliment and gestured to Liam with his beer. “Worked out well for O’Neil. And you, actually.”

Nate had sort of set up Kennedy to be Liam’s nanny, and if it weren’t for Genevieve working at Nate’s bar, Dylan never would have met her. Nate was really their fairy godfather.

Dylan ignored Nate’s “You’re welcome” for a sip of his beer, which only gave my old friend room to stir up shit with me.

“What’s with the haircut?”

“It was time,” I said and pointed to a platter, which he handed me.

“You working out too?”

I removed the burgers and hot dogs from the grill, pivoting to find all three of them studying me. I brushed past them. “I might’ve started using my old rowing machine.”

Dylan hummed quietly, while Liam patted my back. “If it makes you feel good, go for it.”

Nate’s eyes twinkled with a knowing spark. “Did you get laid?”

I remained pointedly silent.

“Dude!”

“Shut up,” I murmured, placing the platter down on the table and whistled for the kids to come eat.

“No wonder you’re carrying yourself differently,” he said in a hushed voice. “I told you, sex would help ease your stress.”

The kids lined up with minimal jostling as they grabbed their food. Tucker attempted to steal three of Kennedy’s cupcakes before Dylan intercepted him. The girls returned to the patio with drinks in hand and smiles on their faces, sitting at a table under the umbrella, while the kids spread out on towels and blankets on the grass.

The last thing on anyone’s mind appeared to be sharks.

Especially when Brooke showed up at the gate, wearing that long, loose navy dress she’d tried on for me weeks ago. The one with tiny straps and buttons all down the front. The same one she’d said she could either wear a strapless bra with or none at all.

Goddamn it.

Amelia ran straight over to her, hopping around her legs as Brooke steadied the tray in her hands. “Oh, careful, sweetie. Don’t want to drop these.”

“What are they?” Amelia asked, walking backward.

“Shark bite shots. Special ones for the adults, and blue raspberry for the kids. See?”

Amelia squealed excitedly when Brooke showed them to her, the little cups filled with blue and red Jell-O, topped with gummy sharks and Swedish Fish.

“Daddy! Look!”

“I see.” I accepted the tray from Brooke and placed my hand on her back, ushering her to the table in the shade. “I think you know everyone already.”

“Yeah.” Brooke waved at the group. “Hi.”

Evie and Kennedy immediately pulled her into conversation, and I pivoted to my friends, gawking at me.

“What?”

Silence.

“What?”

Nate dipped his chin, shooting me a reproachful glare. “Did you forget to tell us you were fucking your farmer friend?”

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