Page 102 of The Way We Score

With all of us working together, it doesn’t take long to dispose of the trash and put our dishes in the large dishwasher. Tables are cleaned and condiments refilled, and we leave the restaurant ready for tomorrow before telling everyone goodnight.

Being with my family and with Liv this way reminds me of how I always dreamed it would be, and walking back to Liv’s house, she catches my shoulders and hops onto my back.

Wrapping my arms under her knees, I love the feel of her body against mine. “Is your mom playing DnD tonight?”

I can’t get over Ms. Plum being an elf bard.

“She went to Evergreen!” Liv’s arms are around my neck, and she tilts her head to the side. “My cousin Gwen had hip replacement surgery, so Mom packed enough clothes to last a year and went to stay with her. She said you’re welcome to sleep in her room while she’s gone.”

Anticipation tingles my stomach as I think about what she’s saying. “Are you asking me to spend the night at your house?”

“You’re over so early every morning, I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Unless you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” My tone is definite, and we fall quiet.

Liv rests her chin on my shoulder as we walk, and the cool breeze touches my cheek. The weather is changing, and we’ll be wearing coats and the kids will be having bonfires before long. I think of holding her in my arms, watching the orange embers.

“I’m really proud of you for defending Craig like that.”

“I’ve never liked bullies.” It’s low, almost a growl when I remember those big boys holding my friend down, punching him in the stomach and face.

“You really are a champ.”

That makes me laugh. “Champ of spilling the beans.”

Her head tilts to the side and she smiles. “What’s your favorite baby girl name?”

“Hmm…” I hold her legs as I think about it. “I don’t really have any favorites, but Mom’s name was Lucy. My grandma was Grace.”

“What was your mom’s middle name?”

“Knox.”

“Your mom’s middle name was Knox?” Disbelief is in her tone, and I chuckle.

“I think that was her mother’s maiden name.”

“I like that for a boy, but maybe not a girl.”

We’re almost home, and I give her a little bounce. “What’s yours?”

“Angie, Bianca, Lola…”

“I like Lola. She’ll be a showgirl.”

We’ve reached the house, and she slides off my back, skipping ahead of me, up the steps and turning to place her hands on my chest. “Our daughter willnotbe a showgirl.”

“With yellow feathers in her hair, and her dress cut down to?—”

“Garrett!”

I can’t help laughing, and I reach up to cup her face in my hands. Tonight when she tried to get jealous about Aubrey Shiffer of all things, I didn’t hesitate. I’m tired of holding back, and I want her to know how I feel. So I put my cards on the table—in front of witnesses.

Our eyes hold, and a tentative smile lifts the corners of her mouth. She reaches up to slide her hand over my wrist. “We should get inside. It’s chilly.”

I follow her inside, stopping to slip off my work boots at the door and hang my vest on the coat rack. She goes to the kitchen and takes down two glasses.

“Would you like some water?”

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