“You would?” She seemed shocked.

“I can’t say I wouldn’t,” he allowed. “And what you said earlier about how quickly kids grow up keeps coming back to me.” He drained his water. “I know I’ll be involved in Storm’s life forever, come hell or high water. I’m also realizing that being a brother-uncle figure is a different role than a parent. I never saw myself as a dad, but then I look at how much Reid has stepped up. Did you ever imagine he could act so—”

“No. I mean, it’s cute. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. And Emma deserves a good guy who wants to give her a family because that’s something she has always wanted, but I thought Reid was basically Spock. Super logical and finds us humans kind of tiresome.”

“Right? I genuinely believed Dad broke our ability to be a decent father, but if Reid can do it, I can.” He heard his own arrogance and shrugged it off.

“Why are you so competitive with him?” she asked with a chuckle of disbelief. “Still, at this age? Over something like that? Fatherhood isn’t a contest.”

“Everything is a contest with Reid.” Had she not met the man? “And my need to compete is exactly what you just said about him. He acts so superior to the rest of us.” It made him tired to think of it. “He always has. Man needs to be kept in check.”

“Okay,” Sophie snorted. “But maybe look in a mirror?”

“Hey.” He scowled at her. “I’m not as bad as he is.”

“You are exactly, equally, not any more or any less as bad.”

“God, you’re mean sometimes.” He hid his grin with the lip of his glass.

“The truth hurts, my friend.”

God that word hurt. Friend. So out of reach.

Her gaze was sparkling with amusement, though, making him almost believe it was possible. Her smile… That smile she tilted up to him—to him—was so precious he wanted to frame her face with his hands and just gaze on it.

He wanted the right to touch her. To feel her lips under his and—

Don’t.

He yanked his gaze away to Art’s empty chair and the half glass of water beside it.

If Sophie was willing to call him her friend, he would take it. And he would not screw it up this time.

“All right.” He turned to rinse his glass. “You have a big day tomorrow. You should hit the sack.”

There was a pulse of silence where she didn’t move. Then she said briskly, “Sure. Good night. Close your window on your way to bed.”

“It’s too hot—Oh gross.” He groaned as he realized.

“Yeah. They’re right below you. Sleep tight.”

*

Technically, it was Sophie’s day off. Logan was on call so she could host Biyen’s birthday party.

Logan was already at the Fraser house, taking his shift with Storm, when a call from the pub got Sophie out of bed. They needed a toilet fill valve after their busy night. Could she open the hardware store?

Gramps happily seized the excuse to get out of the house even though it was spitting rain. He trucked his Gator up to the store, made the transaction with the pub, then circled past the Fraser house for the lawn toys. He brought them back to where Sophie was making slow but steady progress on setting up for the party.

Nolan’s hookup from last night left when Sophie conscripted him into erecting a tarp over the picnic table and cleaning the barbecue. He agreed to cook, too, even though she was including classic wieners and smokies along with tofu dogs.

She was setting condiments on the picnic table with bags of cut buns, hangover finally receding, when she caught sight of Logan walking toward her with the older children.

Damned if her ovaries didn’t spontaneously burst like dandelions when she saw him carrying Cooper on his back, Imogen and Biyen happily skipping alongside him.

“Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom!” Biyen ran up to hug her waist.

“Hi, bud. Happy birthday.” She smoothed his rooster tail. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Uh-huh. Logan made blueberry pancakes for breakfast. With whip cream. Storm ate so many blueberries, he said her bum will be purple for a week.”

“That sounds about right. Where is Storm?” Sophie forced herself to look at Logan. This was her first face-to-face with him after his apology last night and their disturbing conversation about having more children.

His expression was remote, his attention on Nolan.

“Napping.” He tilted sideways to lower Cooper to the ground. “Emma said to call if you need her help, otherwise she’ll come down with Reid and Delta once Storm wakes up.”

“I think we have everything under control. Do you kids want to put the goody bags together? All the stuff is on the porch. Put the filled bags into the empty box. We need fourteen so don’t eat any of the candy until you’ve filled the bags.”

They all ran to where Gramps had come to sit in his lawn chair behind the rail.

“Fourteen?” Logan repeated with a horrified grimace.

“What can I say? Biyen is an inclusive kid. He invites the whole school. We have a big yard, though, and the shed if it starts to pour. I don’t do many parent things at the school so this is my contribution. Now that the kids are out of school and bored at home, I give them something to do for an afternoon.”

“Do the parents come?”

“A few might.” She shrugged.

“You don’t really hang out with the other parents, do you?” he said with a frown of realization. “Is that because you work so much? You and Quinley were always friends, weren’t you? Her son is Biyen’s age, I thought.”

He didn’t recall that she and Quinley had been rivals for his affections?

“People around here all have something to say about something. I can’t be bothered trying to straighten them out. I keep my distance and they keep theirs.”

“What kinds of things are they talking about?” he asked with suspicion.

“You staying in my house. Nolan staying on my lawn.”

“Oh for fu—” He stopped himself from swearing and glanced at the kids. “Really? Why didn’t you say something?”

“I did,” she assured him with a blithe bat of her lashes. “That’s why they send their kids here without setting foot on my lawn.”

“Oh?” His mouth twitched. “I’m not actually surprised by that. What happened?” He folded his arms, enjoying this, she could tell.

“I might have had a teeny-weeny tantrum at a bake sale my first year back. Not my best day,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose in self-disgust. “I mean, if certain people didn’t have gossip, they wouldn’t have anything at all, right? I should feel sorry for them. Instead, I set fire to a few bridges over a couple of remarks that weren’t untrue, just hypocritical. Hypercritical, in my opinion. Then I paid for the cake I had thrown on the floor and left.”

He was trying to stifle his laughter with his fist. “How have I never heard about this?”