Page 99 of On the Line

“Weren’t you already working with Jameson when you were playing hockey in college, with plans of him becoming your agent after you were drafted?” That’s how it usually works with college players.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know Audrey was his sister.”

“Did she know Jameson was going to be your agent?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember if I ever mentioned it specifically, but it was definitely public knowledge.”

“How did you and Audrey know each other, again?” I ask as we walk outside.

“She tutored me.”

I already knew this and admittedly was being nosey and hoping for a bit more information. But also, they clearly have things they need to talk about first, so it’s probably a good thing that neither of them are blabbing to me.

Drew and I set the platters down on the table nearest the fire pit, and then I give him Audrey’s number before he heads over toward Colt and Jameson. Jameson’s eyes meet mine across the yard, and he looks concerned about whatever he sees.

In a few quick strides, he’s by my side. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I don’t want to say too much about the conversation I just witnessed, because if there truly is anything going on between Drew and Audrey, then Audrey should be the one to tell him.

“You sure? You look . . . I don’t even know . . . which is what’s concerning.”

“I’m fine,” I say, looking up at him, “really.”

“Okay. But please tell me Drew wasn’t just asking for your number?”

I laugh at the idea of giving my number to anyone. “No, he was asking for Audrey’s. Apparently they knew each other in college, but haven’t seen each other since—until tonight.”

“Yeah, I guess their time at Boston University would have overlapped,” he says. “Small world.”

Yeah,I think,especially for such a huge school.

“You going to start this fire?” I ask.

“It’ll be hard to make s’mores if I don’t.” He kisses my forehead before turning to grab the lighter.

Once the fire is going, people begin gathering around. We’re passing out sticks for roasting, and kids are holding their toasted marshmallows out to me so I can sandwich them between graham crackers and chocolate. When I glance over at Jameson, who is now holding both Ivy and Iris so they won’t get too close to the fire, the smile on his face takes me by surprise. This man who never wanted to settle down, who didn’t want kids, ended up being the dad my girls deserve. He’s also the partner I need him to be—supportive, protective, and loving.

He passes Iris off to one of our neighbors, a fifteen-year-old girl who’s babysat for us a couple times, and gives Ivy to our babysitter’s mom. Then he walks over, wrapping his free arm around me, and his lips are at my ear whispering, “How long until we can put the kids to bed and kick everyone out? I need you naked and on your back, or on top of me, or on all fours, or all of the above.”

“Patience,” I whisper back to him. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

I glance at him in time to see his eyebrows shoot up. “I like the sound of that.”

“You’ll like the feel of it even better,” I tease.

“I’m sure I will,” he says, then leans closer and nips my earlobe, in full view of our friends, family, and neighbors.

“You two are sickeningly adorable,” Paige says from my other side, and I can feel the flush creeping up my neck.

“Sorry, not sorry,” I say.

Paige gives me a genuine smile. “Good, you shouldn’t be sorry. You have what we all want, and you should be proud of the work you and Jameson have done to get here.”

“I am,” I tell her as he squeezes me closer, letting me know that he’s proud of us too. “Also, I think we’ve nailed down a date and a location for the wedding.”

“Oh yeah?” she says. “Do tell.”

“Mid-June, and the reception will be at the building on State Street that overlooks the Customs House clock tower and the harbor.” Paige had gone with me the first time I visited, and Jameson and I just went back last weekend.

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