Page 82 of Sneak Attack

“He is,” Kate chimed in, with all the love of a mom. “Thinks he should go pretty high considering how well he played last year. As long as he stays healthy, he should be fine.”

Next to me, Davis cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to break it to you, Mama B, but your son really isn’t all that good. I mean, he missed three tackles on me alone the last game I played against him.”

“You played against Graham?” I was shocked, but the rest of the table laughed. I gave Dave a wide-eyed look. “And you let him into your home?”

Dave chuckled and shrugged. “Can’t be perfect all the time. It was Cole who had a soft spot for the kid.”

“Not a kid,” Davis mumbled playfully.

“Always a kid when you’re in my home,” Kate said and patted his hand.

“Thanks, Mom.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, Cole growled low.

Kate shook her head at the silliness.

“And yes,” Davis continued. “I played against Graham. Went to Clemson. He’s at Georgia. We met andbeatthem in the championship game.”

“Is that weird then? Now playing with his older brother in the NFL?”

He scratched his jaw and pushed his lips to one side. “It’s like having your own big brother, kind of?”

Kate placed her hand over her heart. “Aww. That’s sweet, Davis.”

“It is, thanks, man,” Cole said.

Davis nudged my shoulder. “An older brother, who’s really, super-duper annoying and probably busts out to Meghan Trainor when he’s showering.”

A napkin slapped him in the face.

The rest of the table laughed.

All except Jasper. “Daddy?”

“Yes, Jas.”

“Why would you shower with a girl, Dad?”

* * *

“Thanks to you and Davis, I get to have the birds and bees talk with my son tonight so thanks for that. Really.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Best dinner I’ve had in a while,” Marley said, walking in front of us. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to get us off thebirds and beestalk or if she just hadn’t heard us.

We stepped up to her front porch, and Cole opened her door, holding it so we could pass him.

“You didn’t have to walk us home, you know.”

“Maybe I wanted to talk for a minute.”

I glanced inside where Marley was fussing with the electric tea kettle I ordered online. This way I didn’t have to worry about her using the stove, and she could still have her nightly cup of chamomile tea before bed—one of the few healthy things she enjoyed.

“Talk?”

He pulled the door closed and pushed me against the porch siding. “Yes, talk. With our mouths but without speaking actual words.”

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