distracting way. Tag momentarily forgot all about sports.
“Give up?”
“Guess,” Jase said to him.
“I got nothing.”
Kyla grinned. “Gladys Gooding. The organist.”
Tag groaned and fell back in his chair. “Shit!”
Laughing silently, Kyla slipped the card back into the box. The game continued until Kyla and Remi got the question, “Who shot Lee Harvey Oswald?”
Remi smiled and looked at Kyla. “You know that?”
“Jack Ruby.”
“Yes!”
The two girls high-fived. “We win! This is fun!” Kyla said, wiggling in her chair. “Let’s play again.”
“We need to go put the kids to bed,” Jess said, standing with the baby. Scott immediately rose too. “Good night, everyone.”
“They get some alone time,” Jase said with a look at Remi. Her cheeks went pink.
“You’ve got your own bedroom, what are you complaining about?” Tag said. “Hey, that reminds me. Mom, do we still have that tent we used to put up in the backyard?”
“Yes. It’s in the shed. Why?”
“I was thinking I’d like to sleep out there. Matt snores and it’s bugging me.”
“I don’t snore!”
“Yeah, you do.” Tag grinned. “I’ll find it later. Okay, one more game. We have to kick butt here.”
“I’m out,” Doug said. “You kids are too competitive for me.”
The two sets of parents picked up their drinks and moved to sit on the couches, leaving Jase and Tag, Kyla and Remi and Michael, Matt and Logan.
“Okay. What does the C stand for in the equation E=Mc squared?”
Kyla turned to Remi wide-eyed. “Jesus. No clue.”
“The speed of light,” Remi said.
“Oh for…yes that’s right.” Michael grumbled as he returned the card to the box and Tag caught the look of pride on Jase’s face. His chest warmed inside. Damn. Seeing his little brother so happy and in love almost made him…nah.
The guys got the next one right and the intensity rose with each question. Kyla was bouncing in her seat most distractingly again. “You love this, don’t you?” Tag said to her.
She tipped her head to one side. “Are you saying I’m competitive?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t deny it. And right backatcha, Mr. We-have-to-win-the-Stanley-Cup.”
“Sure, sure, rub it in. Jase came closest of any of us this year to winning the Cup.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jase said.
“Can you imagine?” Kyla said, rolling the dice. “If Jase had won the Stanley Cup and brought it home, along with the Jets coming back and Matt getting a first-round draft pick…oh my god, the city would be going crazy !”
“Yeah, it’s probably good you lost,” Tag told Jase helpfully.
“Thanks, man.” Jase lifted a hand with the middle finger raised, not high enough for his parents to see, but everyone at the table snickered.
Soon it was down to the last question for Tag and Jase to win. Matt read the question. “How many strokes make up a quadruple bogey on a par five golf hole?”
Tag closed his eyes, briefly, then said, “Nine.”
“I knew that!” Kyla cried. “Damn!”
“We each won one game,” Tag said.
“Let’s play again!” Kyla said. Everyone else groaned. She slouched back. “Okay. Fine. I need another glass of wine.”
Chapter Six
When Kyla finally rolled out of bed at nearly noon the next morning, fire burned her inner thighs and her legs gave out and she fell back onto the bed. Oh my god. The skiing yesterday had damn near killed her. Oh man, she was so out of shape. How pathetic. She managed to get to her feet and hobble to the bathroom. Her arms and shoulders screamed with pain at every movement. Lifting her arms to brush her teeth and her hair caused more burning across her muscles and she grimaced at her reflection.
She found the cottage empty and quiet. She hadn’t even heard Emily get up. The guys had planned to go golfing at a nearby course first thing in the morning. The girls were probably outside or over at the Hellers’.
She found coffee still hot in the coffeemaker and painfully
“Give up?”
“Guess,” Jase said to him.
“I got nothing.”
Kyla grinned. “Gladys Gooding. The organist.”
Tag groaned and fell back in his chair. “Shit!”
Laughing silently, Kyla slipped the card back into the box. The game continued until Kyla and Remi got the question, “Who shot Lee Harvey Oswald?”
Remi smiled and looked at Kyla. “You know that?”
“Jack Ruby.”
“Yes!”
The two girls high-fived. “We win! This is fun!” Kyla said, wiggling in her chair. “Let’s play again.”
“We need to go put the kids to bed,” Jess said, standing with the baby. Scott immediately rose too. “Good night, everyone.”
“They get some alone time,” Jase said with a look at Remi. Her cheeks went pink.
“You’ve got your own bedroom, what are you complaining about?” Tag said. “Hey, that reminds me. Mom, do we still have that tent we used to put up in the backyard?”
“Yes. It’s in the shed. Why?”
“I was thinking I’d like to sleep out there. Matt snores and it’s bugging me.”
“I don’t snore!”
“Yeah, you do.” Tag grinned. “I’ll find it later. Okay, one more game. We have to kick butt here.”
“I’m out,” Doug said. “You kids are too competitive for me.”
The two sets of parents picked up their drinks and moved to sit on the couches, leaving Jase and Tag, Kyla and Remi and Michael, Matt and Logan.
“Okay. What does the C stand for in the equation E=Mc squared?”
Kyla turned to Remi wide-eyed. “Jesus. No clue.”
“The speed of light,” Remi said.
“Oh for…yes that’s right.” Michael grumbled as he returned the card to the box and Tag caught the look of pride on Jase’s face. His chest warmed inside. Damn. Seeing his little brother so happy and in love almost made him…nah.
The guys got the next one right and the intensity rose with each question. Kyla was bouncing in her seat most distractingly again. “You love this, don’t you?” Tag said to her.
She tipped her head to one side. “Are you saying I’m competitive?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t deny it. And right backatcha, Mr. We-have-to-win-the-Stanley-Cup.”
“Sure, sure, rub it in. Jase came closest of any of us this year to winning the Cup.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jase said.
“Can you imagine?” Kyla said, rolling the dice. “If Jase had won the Stanley Cup and brought it home, along with the Jets coming back and Matt getting a first-round draft pick…oh my god, the city would be going crazy !”
“Yeah, it’s probably good you lost,” Tag told Jase helpfully.
“Thanks, man.” Jase lifted a hand with the middle finger raised, not high enough for his parents to see, but everyone at the table snickered.
Soon it was down to the last question for Tag and Jase to win. Matt read the question. “How many strokes make up a quadruple bogey on a par five golf hole?”
Tag closed his eyes, briefly, then said, “Nine.”
“I knew that!” Kyla cried. “Damn!”
“We each won one game,” Tag said.
“Let’s play again!” Kyla said. Everyone else groaned. She slouched back. “Okay. Fine. I need another glass of wine.”
Chapter Six
When Kyla finally rolled out of bed at nearly noon the next morning, fire burned her inner thighs and her legs gave out and she fell back onto the bed. Oh my god. The skiing yesterday had damn near killed her. Oh man, she was so out of shape. How pathetic. She managed to get to her feet and hobble to the bathroom. Her arms and shoulders screamed with pain at every movement. Lifting her arms to brush her teeth and her hair caused more burning across her muscles and she grimaced at her reflection.
She found the cottage empty and quiet. She hadn’t even heard Emily get up. The guys had planned to go golfing at a nearby course first thing in the morning. The girls were probably outside or over at the Hellers’.
She found coffee still hot in the coffeemaker and painfully
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