Page 69 of The Way We Win

When I get there, my child is sitting on the bar in the middle of the room, and my brother is holding a can of whipped cream. “Ready?”

“What are you—” I don’t finish the sentence before he sprays a blob into her mouth, then does the same for himself.

“It’s Redi-Whip!” She cheers with her muffled voice. “More! More!”

Garrett’s all teed up to give her another squirt, but I take the can out of his hand. “That’s enough of that.”

“Da-day!” Kimmie complains.

“Don’t be a pooper, Jack.” Garrett joins the chorus.

“I came over to talk football, not put my daughter into a sugar coma.”

“Don’t tell me you’re doing the no-sugar diet, too.” His eyes brighten. “So you did hook up with Allie.”

“I like Miss Allie.” Kimmie’s head tilts to the side. “Why would Daddy hook her?”

“Well, you see—” my brother starts, but I catch his arm in a firm grip.

“Stop.” My tone is level, and he holds up both hands.

“It’s a game.” He shifts gears, holding up his index and pinky fingers. “Like in Texas, they say ‘Hook ‘em, Horns.’”

“Can I play?” Kimmie’s little brows rise.

“Hi, guys!” Liv thankfully interrupts the conversation.

“Gigi!” Kimmie hops off the bar and runs to where her little cousin is on her feet now.

My daughter tries to hold the toddler’s hand, but Gigi only squeals, waving her arm around and trying to get away from her.

Gigi’s wearing a ruffled red onesie, and her hair is a pink halo of curls around her head. She’s a chunky little thing, andsince she started walking, she’s gotten very independent. Not that Kimmie doesn’t still try nonstop to hold her or play with her or lead her around.

“Are you here because of the news?” Liv’s expression is serious as she joins us in the kitchen.

I hesitate before answering. She might be talking about Dylan being pregnant, but she might not.

“Nope.” Garrett saves me. “What’s up?”

“It’s all over the paper how Levi Powell dominated on the field last night.” Annoyance is in her tone, and she glances from my brother to me. “Everybody’s saying how he’s a rising star and not a word about Austin.”

Her eyes are worried, and my throat tightens. My mind is on Allie, and I don’t want her to be concerned.

“Levi played a good game.” I keep my tone calm, sticking to the facts. “We knew he was talented. It’s why he’s the second starting quarterback.”

“These guys were making it sound like he should be first.” Her voice is low.

“Those guys aren’t the coach.” Garrett straightens, tugging on the waist of his jeans. “Jack decides who plays and when, and they can deal with it.”

Liv glances at me. “What do you think?”

“I think Austin’s ankle needs to heal, and when he’s back in the game, they’ll say the same things about him.”

Her brow furrows. “You don’t think sitting out will kill his momentum?”

“Nah, we’ll ease him back into training, and after the way he played second week of camp, he’ll snap back.” I put the can of whipped cream on the counter. “He’s not losing anything.”

“Buncha Monday-morning quarterbacking,” Garrett grumbles.

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