Page 120 of Yolo

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Got the news,” he said. “The Harris family was sentenced to multiple counts of attempted murder.”

The grin that split my face was epic. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed. “And the lawsuit was announced. They officially owe you twenty million dollars, Bindi.”

Bindi shook her head.

That was the one thing she hadn’t wanted to deal with, but her father’s urging had forced her to pursue it anyway.

“I guess everyone’s kids will be set for life.” Bindi chuckled.

Quincy snorted. “They have to find a way to pay for it first.”

“That’s their problem,” Ruben grumbled. “I got the mower, honey. You head inside and get some water.”

Ruben and Lea had taken me up on the guest house and had made the final move here two months ago.

Also, it was a running joke at the department that Bindi and I were in a secret relationship, even though half of the department had attended our wedding.

Everyone loved to tease Bindi.

It was all in good fun, though.

She took it like a sport, and I got to love on my wife anytime, anywhere. Department or not.

“So what’s next, Garrett?” she asked.

Auden and Quincy left with a wink, and I twirled a piece of Bindi’s wild hair around my finger as I said, “The rest of our life, Bindi Carter.”

Please pray for my husband. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just married to me, and I’m a lot.

—Bindi to the sister-in-law group chat

GARRETT

We were both exhausted zombies when we made it into the coffee shop.

My mom had taken our son, Race, for the day.

Race being our third and most troublesome child.

I think my mom took pity on the way that we were looking like ran over roadkill.

“What do you want, honey?” I asked.

She shrugged. “What are the specials?”

“They have pumpkin spice out for a Thanksgiving special,” I said.

“That.” She paused. “But also my usual amaretto latte in case it tastes like shit.”

“You’re not pregnant anymore, so I highly doubt that the pumpkin spice will be what you remember,” I pointed out.

She knew I was right.

“Okay, so maybe not that,” she replied sheepishly. “Just my regular.”

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