Page 95 of Treasure and Tarot

“I know. That’s okay. We’re collecting folks, right? Hank assures me that it happens around these parts.”

“It does.” Elliot surveyed the assembled group, grinning as one of the teachers from the local school got mobbed by her kids. Her school kids. Her partner carried their wee one strapped to his chest. “We’re glad to be folding Hot Springs Junction in.”

“Yeah? We’re an odd bunch.” He grinned, because he loved this squirrely little town. “But honestly, there’s nowhere for us to grow, so Secret Springs will be our go-to.”

“Hey, I can’t complain there.”

A wave of laughter came to him across the pavilion, and he glanced at Sebastian, who sat with his friends, just cackling over something Thierry had said. Then Abby ran over to put a hand on Sebastian’s belly, showing it off to all her friends.

That was his world, right there, and he could never have known about Abby. He might never have seen Sebastian again.

And now there were presents, and cake, and scads of friends and family, because his guys and Xavi and Xavier were family, and he couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Sebastian stood on tiptoe, but he couldn’t quite reach…

“Dammit!”

“Daddy, you said a cuss.”

“I know, baby girl. I’m sorry, but I need to reach this thing.” There was something new on the built-in bookshelf in the parlor. Something he’d never seen before. It looked like a Victorian-era album, one of those velvet-wrapped wonders that had such gorgeous old script on the cover that said, “Memories.”

But it was just out of reach of his fingers now that he really couldn’t stand on his toes anymore. His belly was just too weird and off balance and heavy.

“Ask the ghosties,” she said, totally off-handedly.

Oh. That was a thought. He could wait for Colton, he supposed, but his husband was over at the big house Gent had gotten for the production center, where the guys were living right now.

He and Gent were working on the final cut of the show featuring their house.

Finally.

So he sighed, blowing his hair out of his face. He needed a haircut. “Okay, folks. I could really use a hand. I think you all put that up there, so can I see it? Please?”

He waited, stepping back in case things started flying, but the album slid neatly from between a couple of old leatherbound classics and floated right down into his hands.

“Thanks.” Surprised but pleased, he took the album, waddling over to the coffee table. He laid out the album carefully. He held Abby back when she would have leaned over it, holding her juice cup. “Careful, baby. This is really old. We don’t want to get it wet.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She set her juice down on the side table, then moved to sit next to him. “Can I look?”

“As long as you don’t touch.”

“I’ll be careful.” She didn’t even kick her legs, sitting very still.

So he opened the album, wondering if he shouldn’t be using gloves or something. But he looked at the frontispiece, and it was labeled, “The Family, 1888.”

“Wow, kiddo. This is super cool. It’s from almost a hundred and fifty years ago.”

“Is that long?”

“Well, it’s older than Mr. Maroney.”

Her eyes went very wide. “Wow. That’s old.”

He bit back a grin. “I know!” He started turning pages, ignoring the twinges in his back and the rippling in his belly. It was happening a lot these days, and he was so close to his due date.

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