Page 38 of Lucky Strike

She’s right; this isn’t the time or place to dish on Conlan’s issues. Maybe it never will be. It’s not like it’s any of my business.

Liam grins at me from Grandpa Owen’s lap, waving his fork. I wave back, melting with how happy he looks. How well-loved. This family would do anything for him, and the longer I spend with him, I find myself feeling the same way. I might not get Conlan lately, but that’s one thing we see eye to eye on.

Taking a sip of coffee, I peek at Conlan only to find him looking back at me. For the first time in forever, there’s warmth in his eyes, and he looks so much like his old self that it takes my breath away.

“T-bone and Lucky Strike!” booms a gravelly voice.

Conlan jerks his eyes from me, a wide grin splitting his face as he stands to greet the two guys who’ve just stopped at our table. I haven’t seen them in years, but I’d know Sawyer and Cameron anywhere. They’re men now, but I remember the old Sterling crew, when Sawyer was as hyper as an overgrown puppy and Cameron had a blond fauxhawk.

They catch up with Conlan and Tristan for a minute, greeting their parents and ruffling Liam’s hair. Sounds like Cameron lives in Michigan now, where he went for college, but Sawyer’s local. I guess he grew up in the suburbs nearby.

Sawyer glances over after a minute, doing a double take. “Hey Maeve… and Bria? Bria Grant?”

I put my scone down, smiling. “Hey, Sawyer! Hi Cameron. Long time, no see.”

“No kidding!” Cameron smiles. “How you doin’, Bria?”

Sawyer laughs in disbelief, coming over to our side of the booth to give me a hug. “Are you back in Boston now, too?”

“I am.” I dab at my mouth with a napkin. “I came back for a job.”

“No place like Beantown, huh?” he says. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” I bite my lip, glad the conversation has resumed around us because Sawyer’s looking at me with the same interest he had in high school.Awkward.“It’s good to be back.”

“Where are you working these days?”

“She’s Liam’s au pair,” Conlan says.

Sawyer whips his head around. “His what?”

“Hisau pair.” I give Sawyer a patient smile, trying not to read too much into the way Conlan butted in. “I’m his nanny.”

In the morning,after we finish breakfast, Liam and I take Shelby and Bacon for a walk in Boston Common. Liam giggles hysterically when I pick up the dogs’ poop, shaking his head violently when I tell him that he’ll be doing it as soon as he’s old enough.

“That’s a grown-up job,” he informs me.

“Pfft.” Tying off the poop bags, I glance around for a trash bin. Terry nods when we make eye contact. He’s an older black man, tall and built, with a gold hoop earring. His cohort Mitch is a shorter white guy with a ponytail and a penchant for chewing gum. Our bodyguards are a lot less creepy now that I know who they are. I give them a small smile. They’ve been with us every step of the way today, keeping back about twenty feet. Liam hasn’t noticed them, and I wonder if I would have had we not had that disastrous run-in at the Frog Pond last Friday.

They probably think I’m crazy. Oh, well.

Back at the house, my phone vibrates as I help Liam into his jiu jitsu gi. It’s a text message from an unknown number.

Hey Bria!

It’s Sawyer.

Tristan gave me your number, hope you don’t mind.

Do I mind? Sawyer’s cute, and he was always sweet to me way backwhen, but I really don’t know him that well. I wish Tristan had asked first before giving out my number.

Pocketing my phone, I knot the belt on Liam’s gi. He stares at himself in the hall mirror, growling at his reflection. He’s more cute than fierce at this point, but he’s actually got some skill on the mat. When Conlan first told me about the lessons, I thought Liam was too young. But now I’ve seen what he, and some of the other little kids, can do. It’s impressive.

Later, before bed, I reply to Sawyer’s message.

Hi, Sawyer.

I don’t mind.

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