The Feel Good Factor(62)

I do my best to ignore the name of the game, because I don’t want to think about Perri. I stop at the table and peruse the cards. “I bet I can beat you guys, and I’ve never even played.”

“No way! I’m an expert.” Travis puffs out his chest, his dark hair sticking up in all kinds of Saturday-morning angles. I ruffle it as Jodie sweeps up the baby and sets her in a high chair.

“You can be on my team,” Molly says, patting the chair next to her. “Devon’s on Travis’s team.”

I drop a kiss to Devon’s cheek, then snag a chair and join the kiddos for a rousing game.

Travis beats us, and I suspect it’s my fault, since I was all talk. This game barely makes any sense.

But what does make sense is this. Being here. These kids. Their smiles. Chatting with my sister as she makes eggs. Feeding the baby a waffle. Soon enough, I’ve shucked off the cloak of doom from work, and I remember something I have in the side of my bike.

I head outside, grab the gift I tucked there the other day, and bring it in.

“Is it for me?” Molly asks, her big eyes sparkling with enthusiasm when she spies the wrapping paper and bow.

“Nope. It’s for your little sister.”

“She probably needs me to help open it though,” Molly suggests.

“How thoughtful of you.”

I hand the gift to Molly, and she assists—ahem, does all the work—opening it for the baby, who’s now perched on my sister’s lap on the couch.

Devon grabs the pink hat and coos, laughing at it. She flaps it up and down like a pom-pom, then Jodie tugs it on Devon’s head.

“That is the cutest hat I’ve ever seen. I almost wish it were cold out so she could wear it,” Jodie says. “Where did you get it? I want to see if it comes in my size.”

“Perri made it,” I say on a yawn. “Sorry. Forgot to mention that. I think the coffee is having the opposite effect.”

Jodie arches a brow. “Perri made it? For Devon?”

“She did.”

Molly adjusts the hat on her sister. “Perri makes the best stuff. She’s so fun and so nice, and I like her. Also, I like to draw animals, and I want to go work on a zebra.”

Jodie lifts her chin. “Molly, why don’t you and Travis go draw on the sidewalk for a few minutes?”

Uh-oh.

That means only one thing.

I’m getting a talking-to from the third parent.

Once they’re outside, Jodie stares at me expectantly. “What’s going on with you and Perri?”

Heaving a sigh, I drag a hand through my hair and sink down next to her. “Nothing.”

“Is that what you want to happen?”

“No.” I’m dead tired from denial. I’m exhausted from acting, with Hunter, with Jodie, and with Perri, like I’m not wildly in love with the woman I live with.

“So . . .” Jodie gives me that big-sister look. Wait, it’s definitely the third-parent look.

“So what?”

“What are you going to do about the fact that you’re in love with her?”

Yawning again, I shrug. “What is there to do?”

She pats my knee. “I could think of about ten things. Especially since I suspect she feels the same.”

Hope dares to sit up and take notice. “You do?”

Jodie smiles wisely and pats the wooly pink fluff on Devon’s head. “I sure do.”

But then I remember Perri’s words in the kitchen—our deal distracted her from work, and she doesn’t have the time or the inclination to explore more. “Look, even if she feels one-tenth of what I do, she’s not interested in relationships.”

“Hmm.” Jodie eyes the hat on the baby’s head. “Yet she’s interested in knitting hats.”

“What are you saying, Jodie?” My eyes start to flutter closed. Night shifts are rough.

“I’m saying why don’t you get some sleep?”

Seems about right. I’m ready to conk out on the same damn couch that sent me to Perri’s house in the first place.

“Sure.”

She nudges me. “I’m going to take the kids to the park. Travis has a nice bed. Go crash in his room.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice.

In less than a minute, I’m drifting to dreamland.

When my eyes snap open, I’m not sure what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep.

But Jodie’s parked on the side of the bed. “Okay, it’s late afternoon. And we’re going to discuss ten things you can do. Are you ready?”

I rub my eyes. “Guess I better be.”





36





Perri





I twirl in the middle of the ice rink at Yerba Buena Gardens in the heart of the city.

Okay, it’s not quite an accomplished twirl. But it does the job for an amateur, especially since the three of us did pretend we were Olympians back in the day, so we’ve mastered our pretend skating routine.

“Do a triple jump!” Arden calls out.

I peer around, making sure the skating police aren’t looking, and I do a hop, hop, hop, landing each time without falling on my ass.

Score for me.