Page 230 of Vegas Heat

“Good thing we’re here through Sunday, then, right?” Connor follows his words with his boisterous laugh.

“We’ve got a full schedule, Connor,” Marissa reminds her husband. “Turkey today, stadium tomorrow, tickets to that magic show on Saturday…”

“Right. One thing for each day? Let’s pack this trip up with events,” he says.

She rolls her eyes and glances at Cheryl. “He’s always like this. Go go go, never take a five-minute break.”

“That’s how he’s been since he was a little boy,” Cheryl admits. “What if we went for a walk on the Strip tonight after dinner to check out some of the hotels and maybe ride the High Roller? Then tomorrow Connor can choose something else to do after the stadium tour.”

“Good compromise, Ma,” Connor yells from his side of the table with a giant thumbs up. He leans in toward his brother. “Gentlemen’s clubs, blow, and poker, am I right?” He doesn’t exactly mask his words, but I’m pretty sure his nine- and eleven-year-old sons have no idea what he’s talking about.

Cooper smacks him in the back of the head, much to the delight of his nephews. “No, you’re not right.”

“Okay, fine. You’re heading toward a new season, so no blow. See? I can compromise, too.” Connor brushes off his shoulders with zero modesty.

Cooper smacks him in the back of the head again, and Jacob and Ethan both crack up. “I’ll hit some tables with you, but you’re on your own for the rest.”

Connor rolls his eyes, but it’s all good-naturedly and in good fun as Cooper slides into his chair. He reaches under the table to squeeze my knee, and I smile at him.

A warm and fuzzy feeling fills my chest as a ripple of love travels up my spine. I’m so happy to be here, so happy with Cooper, so happy with how I fit in with his family. It all just feels natural, like everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be. I wish my dad and Joanie were here, too, but then the warmthI’m feeling wouldn’t be there since Cooper and I would be acting once again.

I take a bite of potatoes. They’re light, and they’re buttery, and they’re whipped to perfection.

Damn, Cheryl’s a good cook, and damn, Cooper and I are fantastic sous chefs.

“Ethan, tell Uncle Coop about your baseball team,” Connor tells his son as I force myself not to have an orgasm over mashed potatoes.

“You tell him,” Ethan says, shoving a rather large forkful of green bean casserole into his mouth.

“His team went eleven and one,” Connor says proudly. “He was astaron third, just like his uncle. And he hit three homers this season.”

“Four,” Ethan corrects him around his mouthful of food.

“Oh, right. Four.” Connor holds up four fingers.

“And look at him eat!” Marissa adds with glee. “Remember when he’d take one tiny bite of everything and ask to go play his Nintendo? Now he’s eating like a horse!”

“A growing horse,” Cheryl says with a smile.

All the attention is on Ethan, and I can’t help but glance over at Jacob. Having never grown up with a sibling, I have no idea what it’s like to feel left out, but I see it there on his little face.

“Weren’t you on the swim team?” I ask him. He’s the younger brother, and since this family is most definitely a baseball family, I get the feeling he often feels left out.

His eyes light up at the attention. He nods as he sits up a little straighter. “I set a personal best on the freestyle at our last competition.” The pride in his tone is nothing short of adorable.

“Four homers was a personal best in one season for me, too,” Ethan interrupts.

“You’re both doing a great job,” Marissa says, nodding proudly at her boys.

The meal is a total success, and we’re all so stuffed that a walk down the Strip sounds next to impossible. And that’s when Cheryl says, “Okay, everyone. Shoes on. Let’s head to the Strip to burn off some calories and take in the flashy Vegas sights.”

She’s met with a chorus of moans and groans, but eventually everyone gets up to make her happy. Forty-five minutes later, we’re walking along Las Vegas Boulevard. Cooper and I each drove a carful of people and we parked in the Harrah’s garage since it’s close to the High Roller. As much as I want to hold Cooper’s hand while we walk down the Strip, we both know we can’t just in case somebody recognizes him.

So I walk and chat with Marissa and Cheryl, and Cooper walks and chats with his brother while the boys are sandwiched somewhere in between us.

Marissa and Cheryl head up to the booth to purchase tickets for the High Roller, and I hang back with Cooper. I spot Ethan as he’s talking to Connor near the front of a store, but I don’t see Jacob anywhere.

“Is Jacob with your mom and Marissa?” I ask Cooper.

---