“Oh no.” She poked the top of his chest near his shoulder, understanding exactly what had happened. “You’re starting to love your little sister. Aren’t you?”

“So?” He gave her a cross look, smirking behind it. “It’s Stockholm Syndrome.” He wet his lips with his beer. “Babies are very sneaky. They break you down with sleep deprivation, then act like you’re a god because you disappear and reappear with your own hands.”

“I know, right?” She chuckled. “Wait until she’s talking. They say the funniest things.” She smiled wistfully at the memory of Biyen learning to talk, trying to make sense of his world. “Watching them grow up is such a bittersweet balance of celebrating every little milestone and saying good-bye to the child they were. I love who Biyen is now, and I really love how independent he is, but I miss the boy who fit in my lap and believed I had all the answers.”

Logan’s grin faded and his gaze dropped into the amber ale he was nursing. Was he realizing he might not be here when Storm was too big for his lap? Or worried that Storm wouldn’t be?

“Do you ever think about having another baby?” he asked curiously, lifting his gaze to hers. “Not asking as your employer,” he clarified dryly.

“Now that Randy’s back, you think I’m liable to go on mat leave? Tempting.” She was being facetious. “I thought about it a lot in those first couple of years. I wanted Biyen to have a sibling, but things were already hard, not having Mom and Nolan being so…” She shook her head, glancing at her ex. “He didn’t want another baby and my life was complicated enough without bringing a new man and another baby into it.”

She was doing it again—confiding in Logan, but maybe he needed to hear it.

“I often wish I’d given Biyen a brother or sister by now. Growing up, I was really envious of anyone with siblings, even you boys who acted like you hated each other.” She gave him a pointed look. Appreciate what you’ve got. “Maybe your childhood wasn’t all that it could have been, but you went through it together and there’s value in that. Reid and Trystan understand you in a way no one else does.”

“I guess.” His head tilted as he considered that. “But as someone who was gifted a baby sister at twenty-nine, I am pleased to inform you that it’s never too late to give someone a sibling. Too early? Definitely,” he said as Reid and Emma came back. “But never too late.”

“What?” Emma asked as Sophie rolled her eyes.

“Logan is being his warm and loving self. Is the band on intermiss—No, Emma,” she said sternly as Quinley set four shots on their table.

“It wasn’t me. It was Reid.”

“Did you know “Rockstar” is by Nickelback?” Reid asked Logan.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t admit it. I’m embarrassed for you, I really am.” Logan picked up one of the shots.

“I’ve been living in Alberta,” Reid defended. “Ask me about country music.”

“Nickelback are from Alberta,” Sophie cried with exasperation. “Turn in your passport and let’s make a pact that this is our last one.”

They lifted their glasses in agreement and shot them.

It was not the last one, but they danced off the alcohol in the second set, ending with a rousing shout of “Life Is a Highway,” which had the whole place singing along.

“We like to end with this Leonard Cohen song,” the lead singer said. “It’s called “Closing Time,” and it’s not the one by Semisonic so no need to order any shots unless you want them. Find the one you’re going home with and cuddle up for your last dance.”

Emma went into Reid’s arms.

Sophie started to leave the floor, but a very bleary-eyed drywaller stepped in front of her.

“You’re the most alive person I’ve ever seen,” he said.

Sophie had thought she’d heard all the two a.m. come-ons. Hell, she’d fallen for plenty of them way back when, but this was so corny she could only blink with bemusement.

“Has that ever worked? Ever?” she asked.

“No dice, champ.” Logan slid his arm around her and turned her into his chest, drawing her into the lazy rhythm of the song. “Unless you wanted to dance with him?” he asked as he created a small space so he could see her face.

His shirt was damp from all their dancing. His hands on her waist were heavy and hot enough to scald.

“No, but I should get home.” Her feet shuffled into the slow beat, though, so she swayed in time with him. Their bodies brushed and she let herself lean a little closer.

The band sang a lyric about the gates of love budging an inch and she kept her gaze pinned on the hollow at the base of his throat.

Leave, she told herself, but she stayed in a state of heaven and hell, thinking of all the times she had left with the wrong guy, wishing Logan had been the one taking her home. He would be tonight, but not in the way that mattered. Not forever.

He had called his life in Florida hollow. Hers had been so full all these years it was often too full, but there was a pocket of emptiness in it, too. It was a Logan-shaped hole that she had packed with graveled resentment and hostility, then papered over with Never Again.

Those sorts of patches never stuck, though. It was splitting and spilling and she could feel that empty space growing inside her again.

The last notes petered out and the lights went up and all the couples broke apart.

Sophie felt sweaty and melancholy as they trailed outside to begin walking home by the flashlights on their phones.

“Did you get your credit card?” Emma asked Reid.

“I told them to put all our drinks on Logan’s tab. They’ll settle up with him next time he’s in.”

“Joke’s on you. I’m going to expense it,” Logan said.

“The joke is on them.” Sophie thumbed at Reid and Emma. “They have a houseful of kids to wake up to. Thank you for that, by the way. Oh wait. The joke is on me,” she realized with a groan. “I have a nine-year-old’s birthday party tomorrow. That’s going to be loud.”

“We have played this so smart, Em.” Reid looped his arm around his wife. “It’s Logan’s day with Storm. See you at seven, bro. Oh wait. I’ll still be in bed.”

“We promised the kids you’d make pancakes,” Emma said over her shoulder. “But Imogen is a great helper. She hardly ever gets eggshell in the batter anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said as they reached the spot where the Fraser driveway split off from the lane that led to Sophie’s driveway and the rest of the houses along the flats behind the bluff. “You kids go home and have some of that loud sex you like to have. I’m sure Delta has learned to sleep through it.”

“Why does he have to ruin everything?” Reid asked Emma as they started up the hill.

She said something that made him chuckle, but Sophie didn’t catch it.

The night closed in around her and Logan as they continued along the lane.

Despite the glow off her phone, Sophie staggered when her foot turned on a small, round rock.

“Okay?” Logan caught her elbow.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not as drunk as me?”

“I outweigh you by fifty pounds and I train for nights like this.”

He didn’t actually drink that much. He often had a beer with Gramps at the end of the day, but not always. If he did, it was usually just the one. As far as she could tell, he didn’t drink at all if it was his shift with Storm.

“How drunk are you?” he asked in a tone that instantly made her cautious.

“Not sober enough for whatever you’re thinking about suggesting.”