Page 451 of The Winslow Brothers

Jude: Damn, Flynns mads.!.

Ty: So pisses

Jude: HAA. Now I gotta piss.

Ty: You think Rems dies?

Jude: He okay bub

Flynn: I will kill you both if you don’t move your asses.

I’m left wondering how in the hell poker night at Thatch’s place turned into my two youngest brothers getting hammered drunk at a bar but choose to find the answer to the question some other time.

Crazy assholes.

On a silent laugh and a roll of my eyes, I lock the screen of my phone and shove it back into my pocket. It might seem cruel not to at least let them know I’m okay, but trust me, with the number of times they’ve left me wondering whether I’d find their bodies in a ditch somewhere, this is the least they deserve.

I did, however, answer Lexi earlier in the night, who was still very concerned by the care her parents were showing in their garden. I talked her off a ledge while Maria and the baby were getting their checkups, and I even said hello to my sister briefly. So, I’m not a total monster. One member of my siblingdom knows I’m alive.

“Here you go,” the girl behind the register says and hands the flowers and balloons to me.

“Thanks again,” I tell her over my shoulder as I start the trek back to the maternity ward.

It’s a short, uneventful trip in the elevator, and I hold the balloons in front of my face to avoid eye contact with Ol’ Hungry Eyes as I pass the nurses station. When I get back to Maria’s door, a dim light is on, and I can hear her murmuring to the baby on the other side of the room.

Slow and easy, I push through the door and announce my arrival with a soft, “It’s Remy. Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Maria says, turning to face me as I walk inside her room. On the bed, the baby is sprawled out in front of her, fussing a little as she gets her diaper changed.

A smile lights up Maria’s face when her eyes meet mine, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t spread a warmth throughout my chest.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” she adds. “I saw the bag and the car seat and thought you went home for the night.”

“And miss the look on your face when changing your first dirty diaper? No way.”

She laughs. “My God, it’s like tar!”

I pad into the room and stop just short of her so I can lean around to see the baby. “Don’t worry, little lady. My mom said the same about me.”

Maria rolls her eyes, and I put the flowers on the table by her bed and tie the balloons to the window lock so they’re out of the way before returning to her side as she’s securing the tabs of the baby’s diaper.

“So…what are we thinking about her name?” I ask. “Have you decided yet?”

She shakes her head solemnly, and I rub her shoulder in comfort. “It’s fine. She doesn’t need a name yet anyway. Honestly, she won’t even know the sound of it for a couple of months, so you could try out a bunch of stuff if you want to,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood, and Maria turns to shove my shoulder playfully before picking up the baby and cradling her.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, no.” I scoff. “Me being ridiculous would be suggesting you name her Otis. Or Kone. Or Schindler. Or ThyssenKrupp.”

“Are those…” Her eyebrows pinch together as she concentrates. “Are those elevator companies?”

“They might be,” I admit with a wink, and she bursts into melodic laughter. I smile so big my face hurts.

“How in the eff do you know all those elevator companies?”

“I think the real question here is, how doyouknow?” I challenge, crinkling my brow.

“You first.”

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