Page 95 of Terms and Traditions

“Oh, sorry, Ben. Anywhere on the counter’s fine. Make yourself at home,” I said, and he disappeared into the kitchen.

A car door slammed outside, and a minute later, Nash and Stephanie hurried up the front stairs.

“Wow, it’s cold! Pretty sure my nose froze between here and the car.” Stephanie gave her head a little shake, bouncing her curls.

“Three words. Fleece-lined tights,” I said simply, taking her coat and giving her a quick squeeze. “Oh, you guys look tired.”

Stephanie snorted. “Just what every woman wants to hear, Pais.”

“Does this mean the launch was successful?” Greyson asked at my back. The rest of our friends crowded closer to hear the news.

Nash and Stephanie exchanged glances, dark-rimmed eyes shining. Sharing a hundred thoughts and no small degree of elation.

“Short answer, yes,” Nash said. “Long answer over dinner.”

The guys did the standard man greeting with nods, handshakes, and backslaps. We were lucky that our guys got along almost as well as us girls did.

Greyson let Rosie out of the laundry room, and introductions were made. She fell instantly in love with Liz—no surprise there, kids and animals adored her—and demanded pets from everyone, even Juliet, who only tolerated animals because hair. Okay, and allergies. She wasn’t a diva.

Eight was a tight squeeze around our little dining room table in the nook off the kitchen, but we managed, and after Greyson said grace, conversation ebbed and flowed punctuated by jokes and laughter. We’d done friend dinners before, but tonight was the first time Nash was joining us, and he fit right in.

“So, the impromptu launch?” I prompted, sliding a piece of garlic bread onto my plate. “You made it!”

“Congratulations for pulling off the insane!” Liz said between bites of salad. “Any hiccups?”

“Nope.” Nash grinned down at Stephanie. “Thanks to my brilliant girlfriend, we beat her father at his own game.”

“And it was really his own wife who gave you the missing information?” I asked.

Stephanie hummed, twirling noodles onto her fork. “I’m not sure how long that wife status will last, but Zara’s got a good heart. Without her, we wouldn’t have had the identity of the mole. Or any evidence to start a lawsuit against Nova.”

“You’re really taking on your dad’s company?” Myles asked, looking impressed.

Stephanie nodded. “It’s not personal. Well, it sorta is. But from a business outlook, we’re not the only ones he’s tried to sabotage.”

Nash sighed happily. “For now, we’re all just grateful it’s done and out. Pretty sure we’re going to need a vacation after those crazy hours.”

“They weren’t all bad,” Stephanie said, a flirty edge to her words.

Wow, I was still so not used to seeing Stephanie date. Or flirt. Or kiss. Which was what Nash was doing now. On the cheek, but still.

“But enough about us,” Stephanie said, straightening. “Thanks for hosting this, Pais. Grey. It’s nice to get out of town and relax for the first time since Christmas.”

Liz offered humorous escapades of the return to school of her kindergarteners. Ben recounted a tow he’d done recently involving an elk and the front end of a car that miraculously still drove… until it didn’t. Juliet mentioned she’d be going on the road with Myles and the guys next month to negotiate a brand deal for a couple of the players as part of the Chargers’ legal counsel. Then talk shifted to Liz and Ben’s wedding.

“Two months,” Liz said grinning. “It’ll be great.”

“Any more hiccups with the planning?” Nash asked, taking a sip of water and using his free hand to pet a persistent Rosie who sat between his and Stephanie’s chairs, soaking in the love. She wasn’t begging so I couldn’t really fault her.

Ben shook his head. “For now, things are in order. Next week? That’s anyone’s guess.”

Liz elbowed him. “Don’t say that. Any more hiccups, and we’re eloping.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Ben smoldered, making Liz titter.

I watched Nash and Stephanie and had no doubt they’d be next in line for the wedding hoopla. In the ten years I’d known her, Stephanie had never been this relaxed. And there was a soft glow to her face, a lightness.

“They’ll be next,” Greyson whispered in my ear, setting a pile of plates beside the sink while I soaked the spaghetti pot a few minutes later.