Page 100 of Welker

“What?” Moira played along, narrowing her eyes. “I’m also SWAT, you know,” she reminded him sassily.

Kyle sidled up behind Cisco and put in his two cents. “Right. But there aren’t enough SD peeps to match our SWAT numbers, so it’s team khaki for you.”

Moira tipped her head, taking a good look around the gathering group before focusing her grin on Cisco and Kyle. “I have a better idea. How about girls versus boys?”

Kyle blinked. “You…? Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right, hon.” Kyle’s wife Rowan had heard the challenge, and when she walked up behind him, she pinched his ass. That got a yelp from him, and a laugh from everybody else as she continued. “Be afraid. Be very afraid. Because you guys are so going down.”

Moira snickered.

Rowan was a tough-as-nails stunt woman, and was known for her incredible, physical prowess. Put her together with Moira, who was no slouch, Talia, who was E’s squad leader, Joelle, a bad-ass, ex DEA agent now married to Mike, Hilly who played volleyball all the time with her camp kids, and all the other female SWAT team members and Sheriff’s department deputies who took-no-prisoners…

The guys would almost be outmatched as the women rotated in and out to challenge their muscled tushies.

Almost.

Moira warned herself not to get too cocky.

The guys had a lot of worthy warriors on their side as well. But whatever the outcome, the ensuing clash would certainly prove to be one hell of a battle.

Pixie, Doug’s tiny but mighty wife poked her head into the circle that had formed around Welk and Moira, gleeful and with her husband in tow. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be the cheerleader on this one. My height makes volleyball a challenge, even without having such gargantuan opponents.”

Doug had the audacity to reach down and ruffle her hair, so she turned and slugged him playfully in the gut.

“Seriously?” she gave him the stink eye.

“Okay. Okay,” Doug fake coughed. “I see how it is. I know who you’ll be rooting for, so back off, short-stuff. You’re the enemy until this is over.”

“Damned straight.” Pixie ruined the tough act by giggling.

Mason, with Everlee on his arm, joined the growing cluster to shake his head. “I think I’m going to sit this one out with Ever. She’s a little, uh, large, to be running around.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Everlee groaned, rubbing her burgeoning stomach. “But seriously? This huge volleyball is plenty for me today. And it better make an appearance soon, or it’ll inflate to the size of a dirigible.”

Several ladies in the know, groaned.

Ever was one week past her due date, and Moira had heard she’d finally been scheduled for a C-section the following Friday.

Everlee really, really, really wanted to do things without surgical intervention, but had eventually given in when Mason admitted he was scared. Every person present knew that for the boss to confess fear, he had to be really anxious. The man was a rock in almost all situations, but the thought of Everlee and his unborn child’s health being in question, had clearly been a game-changer.

“Okay.” Kyle rubbed his hands together, mischievously. “Anybody got important shit to do before we play?” When there was no pushback, he unexpectedly put his fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle while oddly looking straight at Welker.

Welker stiffened beside Moira, and suddenly the yard went quiet. Everybody who wasn’t in their immediate vicinity started moving toward them.

“What?” Moira was confused. “I didn’t think the game was going to be that b?—”

The words died in her throat as Welker dropped to one knee in front of her.

Seriously?

Moira put her hands over her mouth.

He couldn’t… He wouldn’t…

She dragged her eyes from Welk and let her gaze travel through the crowd. Everyone was all smiles. Welker’s family had moved in close, and…

Wait? Her father was here?

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