Page 116 of Tasting Fire
“Hey, if you’re worried about losing again, that’s not my—”
“Mom,” Maggie called out, “Cash is breaking the potluck rules.”
Their mom hustled in from the butler’s pantry, her hair so streaked with something that it looked like she’d gone platinum gray overnight. “Maybe it’s time to change the rules.” As she turned away to rummage in the pantry, Cash sent his sister an angelic smile.
“You don’t fool me, Kristofferson,” Maggie muttered. “And I’m gonna kick your cheating ass.”
“But since he’s trying to get away with something—”
“As usual.”
“—then it’s only fair that he sets the table.”
As kids, that had been a chore they’d all wiggled out of any way possible. When you had seven people for every meal, setting the table was like running laps around a track. But Cash was playing the long game here, so he just asked, “How many extra place settings?”
“I don’t think anyone besides you and Maggie is bringing anyone, so nine.”
Good thing they had a table that would seat a village.
Before Cash could tackle the chore, Maggie slapped at the football under his arm. “That thing isn’t even fully inflated. You planning to pull a Tom Brady later?”
“It’s my championship ball.”
His mom spun around, and Maggie’s mouth dropped open wide enough for Jay to shove a carrot stick in it.
“Oh, Cash!” his mom said.
Maggie crunched the carrot and said, “I thought that thing was long lost.”
Yeah, he hadn’t wanted to admit to his family that he hadn’t had the balls to ask Emmy to return several of his prized high-school possessions.
With one quick movement, Maggie divested him of the ball and stared down at it. “Oh my God, someone desecrated it.” She blinked up at Cash. “Who did this? I’m going to arrest the defacer.”
A trio of voices came from the front of the house. Unfortunately, none of them were Emmy’s. But a few seconds later, Riley, Shep, and Way laughed and jostled their way into the room.
The Kingston family was far from perfect—plenty of challenges and conflicting personalities. But this, this bond, wasn’t something you could buy or even build. It came from growing up and living in a home where two people—regardless of gender, earning power, and ambition—loved one another. Loved one another as a verb, one they put to use every day. And one they taught their kids the best they could.
Cash was struck with a feeling so big, so damn deep that the air punched out of his lungs. He knew he wanted a future with Emmy, but he hadn’t completely realized that his parents’ unconventional marriage and life were the models he wanted to follow.
He wrapped Riley in a hug and squeezed until she let out a squeaking laugh. “What is with you?”
“Just want you to know that although you’re a pain in my ass sometimes, I would’ve never forgiven myself if Donaldson and I hadn’t gotten you out of that fire.”
Riley hugged him back, and they stood there for several minutes. “You’re a hero, Cash. Not just for me, but for a lot of people. An everyday hero who doesn’t need a cape or tights.”
“Thank Jesus,” Way muttered. When Riley released him, Cash reached for his brother and pulled him in for more than the manly shoulder bump.
With Shep, he asked a silent question, and Shep replied with a silent sigh. They did a side-to-side brother hug with Shep patting him hard on the right shoulder. The equivalent of a bear hug from someone else.
“Hey,” Maggie protested. “You greeted me with a smart-ass smile.”
Yeah, sometimes he forgot that big sister wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as she projected to the world. Mags needed affection as much as or more than any of his other siblings. “I was saving the best for last.”
She snorted, but wrapped him tight with her arms when he picked her up and waltzed around the kitchen. Before he let her go, he whispered, “I am so damn happy for you, Mags. Jay is good for you.” Even if he didn’t want to remember the way he’d barged into Maggie’s house that time and caught her wearing Jay’s shirt.
Yeah, Jay had likely beenvery goodto Mags not long before that.
Before Cash could get too far into that dark place, the doorbell rang.
