I wave her off, unfazed. “We’re making snacks. That’s practical.”
“Uh-huh,” Celeste deadpans. “Practical. Right.”
Bennett leans in closer to Theo, lowering his voice. “Is she always like this?”
Theo grins. “You have no idea.”
Celeste points a cookie at him like a weapon. “Hey, I heard that.”
“Good, that was the point,” Theo replies, effortlessly tossing a handful of pretzels into a bowl.
The easy banter flows between all of us, the kind that feels like second nature—like this, right here, is exactly where we’re meant to be.
Then, as the conversation lulls, I notice Theo watching Bennett. Not in a teasing way this time, but thoughtful. Calculating.
Bennett catches it too. “What?”
“Have you been able to find anything about your twin?”
Bennett hesitates for only a second before exhaling. “I might have a lead. I can’t be sure yet, but I’ve got a flight in a couple of days to check it out.”
Theo’s expression shifts, his usual playfulness dimming just a bit. “Where to?”
“California.” Bennett shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I know it is. “A few records popped up that could be something, but it’s all tangled in legal crap, so I need to see it for myself.”
I glance at Theo. He doesn’t say anything right away, but his jaw tightens slightly. I know he wants this for Bennett—to find real answers, real closure.
“Well,” Theo finally says, slinging an arm around Bennett’s shoulders in a brief but firm show of support. “If you need backup, I’ve always wanted to take a random trip to California.”
Bennett snorts, shaking him off. “You just want an excuse to drink overpriced coffee on a beach.”
“Guilty.”
By the time the snacks are ready, the house is buzzing with energy. Theo and I carry the trays into the living room, where the coffee table has been cleared for the main event:Village Idiot. The cards are already being shuffled by Bennett, who looks far too smug for someone who’s only played this game once.
Orion claps his hands together, “Okay, ladies—” he levels a pointed look at Morgan, Celeste, and finally me, “Make sure your socks stay on this time.”
Morgan rolls her eyes. “Are we seriously bringing this up again?”
“Yes,” Orion deadpans. “House rules. That way you can’t pass cards under the table while the rest of us are distracted.”
“Some of us were winning,” I correct, tossing a pretzel at him.
“You cheated,” Orion accuses.
“We played strategically,” I counter.
Agent Stirling, who up until now has been quietly brooding like he’s posing for the cover ofFBI Monthly, finally speaks. His voice is low and smooth. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
I meet his gaze, unimpressed. “Would you rather I call it survival of the fittest?”
Something flickers in his eyes—interest, amusement—but he doesn’t say anything.
Celeste, sensing an opportunity, drapes herself over the arm of the couch beside him with a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Lucy,” she purrs, using Orion’s nickname for him, “you should know by now, that she always wins.”
Orion snickers. “Careful, Lucy. She might sink her claws in next.”
Stirling doesn’t dignify either of them with a response, but his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk.