Page 10 of The Best Shot

Different species. Same strategy.

By the time plates were being cleared, Sophie and Carter were deep in conversation. Hale had drifted to the edge of it so gradually I wasn’t sure when he’d done it.

I found him in the kitchen, rinsing dishes. Conveniently out of the way while the other two found their rhythm in the other room.

“You should give lessons,” I said, leaning against the counter.

“At dishes?” He didn’t look up from the water running over his hands. “Think I’m just adequate myself, but sure, I can teach.”

“Not dishes.”

“Hm?”

“Sophie to Carter. That was slick.”

His hands stilled under the running water, then kept moving.

“Sophie likes hiking,” he said. “Carter does too.”

“How fortuitous.”

He turned off the tap and dried his hands slowly. “You just got back and you’re already studying the wildlife.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Only if you start moving your cubs.”

His lips tipped up.

“You don’t like her?” I asked.

“She’s great.” He folded the dish towel. “Sophie’s genuinely great.”

“But.”

He looked up. “No buts, Yaz.”

“Then why?”

He set the dish towel down and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Carter hasn’t been out with anyone in a while. Man needed the help.”

“Fortuitous and generous.”

“Or lazy,” he said. “Now I don’t have to do the talking.”

“You love talking.”

He laughed, the real one, short and surprised and genuine. “I’m glad you’re home, Yasmine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He pushed off the counter and pulled me into a hug.

Casual. Familiar. Normal.