“Hey, brother! Something smells good!”
I turned, already grinning despite myself. Mark strolled in like he owned the place, Zack at his side, both of them looking annoyingly put-together.
Mark gave me a wave like we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of three days.
“Timing’s perfect,” I said. “Another five minutes and these would be done.”
Mark wandered over, peering at the grill.
“You say that like you haven’t served us burnt charcoal patties,” Mark pointed out.
“That was one time,” I argued.
“It was two,” Mark said.
I rolled my eyes. Zack had already peeled off toward the house, drawn by the sound of voices and, probably, my mom’s cooking. Traitor.
A moment later, more voices joined the mix, followed by a sharp, enthusiastic bark.
“Yep,” I said. “That’ll be Chris.”
“And Pampi,” Mark added.
We both glanced toward the back door just in time to see Chris step out, Jaime right behind him, and Pampi.
The tiny, fluffy papillon seemed to be entirely convinced she was a wolf. A tiny wolf tucked in Chris’s arms like royalty.
Zack crouched immediately, making a series of noises I had never heard a grown man make before. “Who’s a good girl? Who’s the prettiest little girl?”
Pampi accepted the praise like it was her due.
“You’re going to burn that burger,” Mark said, nudging my arm.
I looked down. Right, I nearly forgot I was cooking. I flipped it just in time, rescuing it from a fiery demise.
“Want me to take over?” Mark offered, already reaching for the tongs.
I considered it for half a second, then surrendered.
“Sure. If anything catches fire, I’m blaming you,”I told him.
“That would never happen. I’m an expert grill master,” Mark said with a laugh.
I grabbed two beers from the cooler and tossed one to him.
The caps hissed off, and for a second, everything felt easy and familiar again. It was the kind of moment that didn’t ask for anything except that you be there.
Chris wandered over, still holding Pampi like a prized possession.
“Too bad Levi and Mason are on a trip. And Devon and Carter can’t come either,” he said, nodding toward the empty spaces at the table.
“Devon and Carter are probably buried in pack stuff,” I said. “Carter always seems to be putting out one fire or another.
“Still,” Chris said, taking the beer I offered. “Would’ve been nice to have the entire family here.”
“Next time,” I said.
He took a sip, then gave me a look. The kind that meant trouble.
