The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

“Late.” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Jess said Cat’s been cagey about the party ever since she heard Seb got an invitation.”

Seb, as in Sebastian.

“He’s not here either,” I observed.

“When are those two going to pull their heads out of their asses?” Bailey muttered dryly.

“Sometimes it takes time,” I replied, smiling at Jack. “It took us nine years.”

“Oh God, I can’t take a nine-year Cat-and-Seb drama. Uh-uh, no way.” Bailey sipped at her mimosa. “I may have to intervene.”

“You have a child,” Dahlia reminded her. “A child who needs her mother to be alive. And if you intervene, Cat Lawson will kill you. You’re scrappy. But she’s tougher.”

“Truth,” Ivy muttered.

“Where’s Jeff?” I asked my friend before Bailey could act on the glare she was shooting Dahlia, who only made matters worse by laughing into her drink.

“Working. He’ll be here after the kids’ party for the barbecue.”

“I could take Cat,” Bailey huffed.

“Take me where?”

We turned to see Cat coming down the steps with a birthday gift in hand. Joey was noticeably absent. He was a teenager now, one who looked like a miniature Cooper, and the kind of teenager who could befriend anyone. He hung around with kids from all different cliques, which meant he was always on the go doing something.

Or dating someone.

Once I married Jack, Joey moved on to girls his own age.

“Nowhere,” Bailey answered quickly.

“Give me a glass of that,” Cat huffed, gesturing to the mimosas. “My brother depresses the crap out of me. It’s his kid’s fourth birthday party, and he and his wife can’t keep their hands off each other long enough for even that.”

My lips twitched at her mock-disgusted glower.

“They’re going at it in the bathroom.” Her smirk turned wicked. “That is, they were going at each other. Until I hammered on the door and told them I was calling the cops for public indecency.”

We chuckled, but my laughter died when I saw Cat case the backyard as if she were searching for someone.

“He’s not here,” I told her.

She shrugged. “Who isn’t?”

Letting her have it her way, I stayed silent as she strode across the yard to her nephew.

“I’m telling you, it’ll be another nine years unless I intervene,” Bailey muttered.

“Intervene in what?” Vaughn’s voice called to us.

We turned to see him and Michael striding down the steps toward us, baby girls in their arms.

“I thought they were napping?” Bailey said as she reached for Lily.

He held his daughter close. “I’ve got her,” he assured her.

Dahlia reached up for Michael’s free hand. Jenna was curled in his other arm, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder.

“Uh … I don’t think Coop and Jess knew we were in the house.” Vaughn’s lips twitched. “We thought it best to give them some privacy.”