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“I have eyes, bud. You were going to mess her ex up if he didn’t back off.”
“Whatever.” Ford walked to where the others stood.
“She’s nice and suits you. The soft to your hard-ass.”
“I’m not a hard-ass.”
“You wrap it up under all the solid, dependable shit, but it’s there and coming to the surface more and more lately. I wonder why.” His brother was grinning.
“Shut up.”
“Everything okay? Aunt Jess said Autumn’s ex was here and there was tension,” Dylan Howard said. “Need us to do anything?”
“Like what?” Jack said. “I mean no offense, Dyl, but you don’t do mean like us. You’re ex-FBI too, so kind of a good boy.”
“The hell you say,” Dylan said. “I can do mean. Just because you Trainers earned your reputations by being rebels doesn’t mean I can’t.”
“Awww, that’s cute.” Fin clapped him on the shoulder. “But you leave the mean to us.”
Ford shot a look to the door again and felt himself exhale as Autumn walked in with Mr. Goldhirsh and not her dickhead ex.
“There now, Autumn is back inside nice and safe, bro,” Nash said. “You can relax.”
“Fuck off.” He nudged his brother in the ribs.
“If everyone is now ready, can we actually play some volleyball?” Albert asked.
Ford was with Nash, Dylan, Ted—who looked like he’d rather be passing a kidney stone—Bas, and Lenny, a worker from the lodge. The opposing team was the four Trainer brothers, Fin, and one of his deputies, Brent. They had three subs—college kids ready to step in when the adults needed a break.
He found Autumn standing next to the court with the others. She smiled and he returned it. A kissy noise from across the net had him looking. Jack Trainer was smiling at him. He raised a middle finger.
“Trainers team won the toss.”
“Only because they cheated,” Bas said.
“How?” Luke asked.
“You guys can cheat doing nothing,” Bas added. He had his cap backward which clearly said he was there to win.
The game started, and Bas hit the ball up for Nash to slam back over the net. Fin retrieved it, and it was game on. Ford dived, jumped, and whooped when required. He loved every minute.
“Go, team!” Autumn was standing courtside, yelling her encouragement.
“Which team?” he asked her as he tried to haul in a breath. “I mean, there are two of them.”
“Your serve, Ford. Stopping making kissy faces and move it,” Ted said.
As far as Ford could tell, Ted hit the ball only when he couldn’t avoid it but otherwise was there for support.
“What are you wearing on your feet, Ted?” Ford had just noticed the man’s shoes. They were a sinus-infection green with cream laces and a zipper down one side.
“Don’t.” Dylan raised a hand. “Seriously, man, we’ve tried to get him to let us pick his footwear and still he does it.”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” Ted howled in outrage. “These had amazing reviews and have excellent arch support for my feet.”
Ford knew shit all about style, but even he knew those shoes were a disaster.
“Just as well. Your woman is not with you for your fashion sense,” Joe called.
