Page 52 of Over and Above

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Page 52 of Over and Above

“Did we really need games?” I asked Rowan.

“Of course.” He wore a red satin kimono over a T-shirt that proclaimed himselfGuncle of the Year. He had a stuffed elephant under one arm, a Sharpie in the other hand, and a typically maniacal grin. “Otherwise, it’s just sitting around and eating cupcakes while watching Maren open presents.”

“That sounds like an okay plan to me,” I countered.

“Which is why you’re not the party planner.” He swished away, off to encourage more people to play games, leaving me to search for something useful to do. The food table was fully stocked, the punch bowl brimming with some sort of fruity concoction, and all the guests’ coats were neatly hung on a rack in the back of the room.

However, my wandering near the food table did bring me close enough to overhear a conversation between Sean and Magnus.

“Have you decided whether to rebuild or move?” Sean asked as he piled a plate full of snacks. “Another house on our street is for sale at a killer price.”

“Dad.” Declan tossed an arm around Sean as he joined the conversation. “You can’t try to move all your friends and family to your neighborhood.”

“Sure I can.” Sean leaned into the attempted hug with a good-natured chuckle.

“I’m in no hurry to decide.” Magnus’s tone was cagey as his gaze met mine across the food table. I busied myself straightening rows of sandwiches while he continued, “Heck, I can’t even choose which tat to get to commemorate the old house. Think Denver has any recs on local artists?”

With that deft change in subject, I grabbed a cup of punch and meandered over to where Maren sat by the gift table in a rocking chair Caleb and Rowan had brought in to give her a throne of sorts.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to escape right now?” I crouched to ask in a whisper before handing her the drink.

“Eleventy-billion.” She gave a tense laugh. “Think you could convince one of your firefighter friends to call in a fire code violation? Something?”

“Probably not, but if you go into labor, I could undoubtedly arrange a lights-and-sirens escort.”

“Dad. Marissa!” Maren summoned her midwife. “Any chance of you ordering bed rest? Like right this minute?”

“Not till you open presents.” Marissa plunked a cloth-diapered elephant into Maren’s lap. “And if you think this is bad, merely wait until you’re the bride next year.”

“Is it possible to have a wedding without being the center of attention?”

“Nope.” Marissa and I both laughed.

“Seriously, honey. If you want to leave to rest, I think people would understand. They’re all distracted with Rowan’s games anyway.”

“Bless my brother.” Maren managed a wider smile. “Less small talk for me. And I suppose I can last long enough to try a cupcake.”

“I’ll grab you one.” I returned to the food table only to be snagged by Jonas, who had a devious look on his bearded face.

“So, I had an idea, and you can say no?—”

“No.” I stared him down, already certain where this was headed.

“Hear me out.” He held up his big hands, the picture of innocence. “I want to have a few folks out to the farmhouse for dinner. Something casual, but there’s a new nurse at the practice. I think you might really hit it off.”

“No.”

“Look, you’re my best friend.” He gave me a hearty smile, but I didn’t smile back. “I want to see you happy. You can’t hibernate for the next however many years. We’re still young?—”

“Says the one with the hot, younger partner keeping him up at night.” I gave him a pointed look. “I’m good with not dating. I swear.”

“You could come anyway.” Used car salespeople had nothing on Jonas. “New friends are great to have as well.”

“You’re not fooling me.”

“Darn.” Jonas sobered, then brightened at something over my shoulder. “Magnus. “How do you feel about dinner parties?”

“We’re running low on forks. Did you bring extra?” Magnus’s glare was sharp enough to cut glass as he stepped in front of me. Damn. He had definitely heard something of my conversation with Jonas. His expression softened only marginally as he turned toward Jonas. “Why do I feel this is a trick question?”


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