“My brother hates losing to Deck. They have a constant, fierce competition. Deck told me in JTF2 training it was a never-ending battle to be the best of the best.”
I glanced at London then back to Georgie. “And why we put them on opposite teams,” I said.
Georgie’s brows lifted. “Oh, my God. You rigged the teams?”
London nodded. “Yep. Why do you think Alina and I insisted on picking the names out of the ball cap and not letting the guys?”
“Damn, I love you girls.” Georgie laughed, falling back on the grass.
The teams were Connor, Kai, Deaglan, and Ernie against Deck, Tyler, Vic, and Tristan and the score was three-three. Every single one of them was competitive and neither team planned on losing, which made the game super intense because one team was losing. The game didn’t end until one did. Josh was the only one missing because he was on his honeymoon with a girl he’d met five weeks ago in Las Vegas.
“Your parents rock, Georgie. Frank slipped me a burger and your mom hid me from the kids seeing while I scarfed it down. I’m always so damn hungry.” Chess eased down on the grass beside Georgie, her hand on her swollen stomach as she leaned back on her elbows. “Never be eight months pregnant in the middle of summer. My feet are so swollen I don’t even recognize them anymore.”
“Can you even see your feet past that enormous belly?” Georgie asked.
“I have two in here remember. Just wait. Seven more months and you won’t be making jokes. You’ll be bitching and complaining, too,” Chess said, nodding at Georgie’s currently flat stomach. “I can’t wait to see you waddle.”
Georgie threw a clump of grass at Chess and the green blades scattered on her overextended belly. “This chick won’t waddle. She’ll strut.”
“Like a rooster?” Chess said, brows lifting.
I laughed. Georgie huffed, but smiled.
“Go, baby,” London yelled at Kai as he kicked the ball toward goal, but Tristan was on him.
The two businessmen, who rarely wore anything but expensive suits, were playing a game of football together in a barnyard at a barbecue. This had become a yearly event where we all got together at the Treasured Children’s Center, a place that linked us all in some way. It was the only time I saw Tristan in shorts, but they were classy khaki shorts. Kai wore black cargo pants like the rest of the guys.
“This isn’t hockey, asshole,” Tristan said as Kai body-checked him so hard he staggered and landed on his ass. Kai grinned as he kicked the ball into the air for the goal, thinking he had it.
But Tyler swept in and head-butted the ball out of the air at the last second.
“Jesus, I hate you guys.” Kai bent over, head hanging, hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. Connor came up beside him, slapped him on the shoulder and said something then they were back in the game.
It was nice to see Kai and Connor get along, but then Connor didn’t know about Georgie’s involvement with Vault. When Connor had been gone for those several months, Georgie had told me about the cutting, Tanner, and the assignments for Vault.
When Connor came back, everyone decided it wasn’t something Connor should ever hear about. It wouldn’t do him any good to know what happened to his sister and it was one part of the story their parents didn’t know either.
“Mommy,” Skye said, nestled between my legs, her head on my thigh. “Can I go play with Hope and the cats?”
I stroked her wavy blonde locks away from her face. She was the spitting image of Connor with her blue eyes and magnetic smile. “Yeah, sweetie.” She slipped from my arms and I watched her run across the yard and immediately pick up the orange cat who’d been dumped on the property a few months ago.
Skye was daddy’s little girl and I couldn’t be happier about it. The best sound was the two of them laughing together and they did it often. It was Connor who put her to bed most nights and read her a story while Simon purred like a jet engine at the foot of the bed. I’d often stand in the doorway and watch them, my heart bursting at every moment we were blessed with.
Connor would look over at me and grin with a wink, without even a pause in his words as he read. But then, he probably knew the stories by heart because he never forgot anything.
Vic had the ball and used his massive body to block Connor from getting near it. “You’re last name should be brick not fuckin’ gate,” Connor said, with laughter ringing.
Connor didn’t chase him, Deaglan did. The head-to-toe tatted guy was agile and quick with his feet and obviously grew up playing the sport. And he was probably the only one who could get the ball from Vic.