Page 183 of Ransom

"Nah." I wave at Sarah for another round. "This is way more fun."

"You're evil." She bumps my shoulder. "It's my favorite thing about you."

Up front, Zach's now presenting a PowerPoint on the benefits of small-plate dining while John looks ready to flip theprojector table. Tom, Angie, Mark, and a few other business owners are sitting back, sipping their drinks, heads bobbing back and forth as the men argue.

I'm not sure what I expected when Ransom's family said they were settling here, but it wasn't this. I didn't realize they were going to get so involved in everything. But that first year, literally the very next meeting of our unofficial revitalization committee, Zach showed up. He said his marketing expertise would get our first festival off the ground. John showed up to the first weekend meeting we had, and it snowballed from there. They have opinions and have no problems fighting it out. Though they only physically fought once, and that was only a little slap fight. Really nothing in the grand scheme of things.

"Do you think there's anything else we have to get done here? Or can we skip out?" Maggie asks, yawning. There's a little thread of worry that tries to unfurl in my chest when I see how tired she is, but I don't let it take root. She's healthy. Everyone gets tired. And she's been putting long hours in at work.

She is fine.

Cancer free.

Thank fuck.

"You ready?" I ask Maggie, jerking my head toward the door.

She nods, slipping her arm through mine as we sneak out. Behind us, John's voice rises. "Who the fuck serves tiny quiche at a car show?"

The night air wraps around us, crisp and clean. Stars wink overhead as we amble down Main Street.

"I need to grab something from the office real quick." Maggie tugs me toward the renovated storefront where she works. It started out as just a space away from the compound for my brothers-in-law, but it's morphed into an unofficial Brash Group satellite office. They need more space. I could see them wanting to build something in their area soon, but for now, this spacegets them away from the kids and the dogs so they can focus but still be close to home.

And it's the perfect place for Maggie to do her graphic design work. After she was finally healthy again, she wanted to get out of the house and be around people.

"When are you going to drop the whole contractor thing and just accept a full-time job?"

"Hey, I like having my own clients." She fumbles with her keys. "Even if most of my work is for the Brash Group now."

"Zach's not pressuring you to go full-time?"

"Only every damn day." She disappears inside, emerging moments later with a manila folder.

We turn toward her house, our arms linked again. "Want to come over tonight?” I ask. “We could watch that new murder documentary."

"Can't. But..." She gives me a sly look. "Would you keep Max? Maybe do a sleepover?"

I groan dramatically. "Again? You're killing me."

"You love it."

"Maybe." I might grumble about it, but being the fun aunt is exactly what I wanted. No full-time mom duties, just spoiling and returning. And summer break means I get to do a lot of spoiling. And honestly, he's at the compound most of the time, hanging with Mia and a few other kids from town. They're a pack of half-wild wolves most of the summer. Between the woods, the go-carts, the BMX track, the pool with a full-time lifeguard, and the half-pipe, it's a damn summer camp.

"Just don't give him too much sugar this time."

"I make no promises. What happens at Auntie Blair's stays at Auntie Blair's."

"Blair McKenna, I swear?—"

"La la la, can't hear you." I skip ahead a few steps. "Max and I have a sacred pact. No snitching on sugar consumption."

"You're impossible." But she's laughing, and that's all that matters. She's here. She's healthy. She can give me as much shit as she wants.

We pause at Maggie's gate, the familiar creak of the hinges bringing back a flood of memories. Two years ago, this was home. And for a while, Ransom's home too. He and I fixed those steps together. To be fair, I fixed them, and he was my assistant. The best, most handsome assistant ever.

"You okay?" Maggie squeezes my arm.

"Yeah, just..." I gesture vaguely at the house. "Sometimes I miss living here."