“Training for what?” Robin asked, cheeks still bright pink.

“To beat Uncle Trent’s ass,” Rosie told him.

Goddammit.

I covered my laugh with my shoulder, then did the responsible parent thing and asked her not to swear. To which she nodded very seriously, before immediately swearing again.

“Gonna beat Uncle Paxton’s ass too,” she added, faux innocently.

“Rosie,” I countered, because apparently she wasn’t in the mood to see reason. Usually she was better about listening, but I think between the crying and the laughter, both little girls were feeling quite overstimulated. I could relate. I felt that way too. Skin jittery, heart fluttering.

Anxious.

“Sorry,” Rosie immediately replied, eyes wide, because she hardly ever got in trouble, and obviously didn’t want to now.

“It’s okay,” I promised, keeping my tone gentle. “Just don’t make me repeat myself a second time, please. It’s not nice.”

Sometimes I had to remind her what things were “nice”. It was the easiest way to get her to understand when she’d crossed a line.

Robin, because he was darling, didn’t interrupt, and instead, he dutifully waited his turn. He watched me curiously, cheeks heating up when my voice dropped low again, his slick pink tongue flickering out to wet his lips.

His eyes searched mine, waiting for permission.

Which I eagerly granted, excited to see what he would say next.

“How and why are we beating your uncles?” he asked, turning his attention back to Rosie.

“In the race,” Rosie replied.

“The relay race,” I added because now that Robin was here, an idea was…oh yes. An idea was forming. “Every year during the Pie Festival there’s a relay race,” I explained, watching Robin raptly. “Last year we lost. The girls would like to win this year.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Robin nodded along, though he looked somewhat confused. I could understand. I’d lived in New York, after all. Though I’d had Belleville as my background, I could see why someone who lived in a large city would be surprised by the intricacies of our little town’s social engagements.

“We could use another adult,” I hummed, eyeing him up and down. “You look fast.” Faster than the toddlers, anyway. “How would you like to be on our team?”

“Be on your…” Robin stared at me, then the girls.

I wasn’t sure what I expected.

Maybe for him to laugh? To say, “Hell no.” Or for a polite yes, best case scenario. What I didn’t expect, however, was for his eyes to grow wet. For his lips to curl into a wobbly little smile. For a certain sort of reverence to spread across his features as he nodded his head jerkily. “You really would…you know…want me on your team?”

My heart lurched.

Oh, sweet baby.

Sweet, sweet baby.

Unable to help myself, I reached out and gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. “Of course we do,” I told him, suddenly grateful I hadn’t given myself time to overthink this. “We would be honored.”

“I’mthe one that’s honored,” Robin sniffed, smiling at me, then the girls. “I’m not really fast though,” he admitted. “I dunno what really goes into these things, and I’m not sure I’ll be much help. Someone else would probably be better.”

Suddenly, I no longer cared about winning.

And I didn’t think the girls did either, because they didn’t seem put off by this at all. Their little faces were bright with excitement, bodies vibrating with glee. “That’s okay!” Jane promised, piping up a second time. “We want you. Even if you’re a loser.”

JesusChrist.

“I’ll teach you,” Rosie’s chest puffed up with pride. “I’m thebest.” Jane looked at her dubiously, which was fair, seeing as Rosie had just launched an egg at her.