Page 21 of In It to Win It

“They’re divorced.”

“Yeah, but . . . I always had this feeling they never really got over each other.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Perceptive.”

I shrug. “I do pick up on things like that.”

The scent of charbroiling meat drifts from the barbecue, teasing my hungry belly. Théo gets up and turns the steaks and checks the foil packets that I guess are veggies. “Medium rare, right?”

“Right.”

“Almost done.”

“I’m starving. I think I burned a million calories today.”

“Here. Have some nuts.” He pushes a bowl across the low table toward me. “Healthy fat.”

I grab a handful to stave off my hunger.

Théo grills a great steak, I have to say . . . the spice rub he put on is excellent and the veggies are crisp, with a nice grilled taste. We’ve just started eating when the front door of the condo opens and Lacey’s voice floats through to us, calling, “I’m home!”

The look on Théo’s face is . . . I don’t even know. He lights up like a thousand-watt lightbulb. “Out here, babe,” he calls.

Lacey appears in the patio doors, smiling. “Hi, guys.”

Then I see who’s behind her.

Taylor.

6

TAYLOR

I stop behind Lacey,smiling, ready to greet Théo. I haven’t seen either of them since the wedding. And my gaze lands on JP.

I freeze, my smile falling away.

Crap. What ishedoing here?

Our eyes lock and his face tightens. Clearly, he’s as thrilled to see me as I am to see him.

I grip Byron’s leash, holding him back as he tries to dash out onto the patio, but he half drags me out and leaps toward Théo, one of his favorite people.

“Hey! Byron!” Théo greets him with ear rubs and back pats. “Hi, Taylor.”

“I saw Taylor on the beach when I got home, so I invited her over,” Lacey says.

“Hey, Théo.” I lift my chin and turn to JP, my voice going icy. “Hello, JP. Last time I saw you, you were bleeding.”

His jaw tightens. “Last time I saw you, it was your back as you cut and run.” His voice has an edge.

I shrug. “Testosterone-fueled brawls aren’t my thing. I hope you’ve apologized to Lacey and Théo.”

Lacey’s jaw drops and she blinks, her gaze darting back and forth between me and JP. “Uh, he did,” she mumbles.

Byron trots over to JP, who holds out a hand for him to sniff. “Hi, doggo.” Byron sniffs and eagerly greets at JP, who then rubs his head gently. “You’re a handsome boy.”

Byron submits to the caresses, the canine traitor. I want to tell JP to keep his hands off my dog, but when JP stops rubbing him, Byron sets his paws on JP’s knees to beg for more attention.

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