The Way We Score: A small-town, accidental pregnancy, sports romance. (The Bradford Boys)

“Tell me the truth, Marcus.” The phone rests on my shoulder. “Are Putnam and Barnes involved in organized crime?”

A light chuckle meets my ear, but it does nothing to soothe my irritation.

“As far as I know, they’re just regular ole Chicago realtors trying to capitalize on mineral rights.”

“They sound like money launderers.”

“Let me see what I can do, and I’ll get back with you.” He’s so smooth, and I have to hand it to him. Marcus has handled much bigger cases than I have and always comes out on top. I’ve heard he even got a guy off for murder once.

“How’s the baby doing?”

My eyes widen, and I hesitate. “Who told you I was pregnant?”

“I’m sorry, was that a secret?” I can hear the smile in his voice. “The receptionist told me you were working remotely, and when I asked if you were okay, she said you were expecting. No harm no foul. I’m glad we’ve reached the point where remote work is acceptable.”

I look down, turning the stylus in my fingers. “I don’t mean to be guarded. Not everyone in our profession shares your attitude. The baby’s doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear it, and don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, Marcus.”

We spend a few minutes more strategizing how we’ll handle the latest curveball in our case, and when we disconnect, I sit back in my chair, wishing I had a bag of Funyuns.

Silly pregnancy cravings. Last night I wanted salt and vinegar chips so bad, but not just any. I wanted Zapp’s salt and vinegar, and poor Garrett had to drive across the bay to find a bag.

“Olivia, I need to speak with you a moment.” Mom breezes into the room carrying a large duffel bag and two suitcases.

She looks like she’s going away for a year.

My brow furrows, and I rise to my feet. “What the hell?”

“Language, please.” Her lips purse with a frown.

I walk to where she’s stacking her bags. “What’s going on, Mother?”

“Your cousin Gwen just called while you were on the phone with Chicago. I didn’t want to interrupt you because you were working, and it sounded important.”

“What’s wrong with Gwen?” A cousin of my mother’s generation I haven’t seen since I was in middle school.

“You’re not going to believe this.” Mom slaps her hand against her leg. “She really did have a hip replacement last week!”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“And she’s all alone in Evergreen with no one to help her. I figured I’d drive up there and stay with her until she’s back on her feet. What else can I do?”

“I can’t think of a thing.”

“I’ll have my phone, but I expect I’ll be gone for several weeks. You should have Garrett come and stay at the house with you.”

“You do.” My lips press into a smile.

“Well, he’s over here so early every morning anyway.” She picks up the duffel bag, hauling it over her shoulder. “Tell him I don’t mind if he stays in my room. I’ve washed the sheets.”

“Gwen just called, and you had time to do all this packing and wash your sheets?” I can’t resist poking holes in this very obvious attempt to put Garrett and me in the same house for several weeks.

“It’s one of my rotating chores, Olivia.” She gives me a look. “How often do you wash your sheets?”

“I don’t have a schedule.”

“Well, you should.” She pulls the handle out of her large rolling suitcase, and I take the medium one. “Anyway, I’m only a few hours away if you need me. I’ll be back in plenty of time for the delivery.”

Following her to the car, I watch as she puts the bags in the trunk.

Turning, she pulls me into a firm hug. “I love you, Olivia.” Stepping back, she holds my hands, smiling up at me. “Remember what I’ve always told you.”

She climbs into her enormous Lincoln, and I prop a hand on my hip. “Love you, Mom. Drive safe.”

I stand watching as she heads out onto the road. When she gets to the stop, she sticks an arm out and waves. I wave back, knowing exactly what she’s referencing when she tells me to remember. It was her mantra when I was in high school.

Garrett Bradford is nothing like your father.

“Holy shit, animal control is wild. I might change careers.” Garrett’s voice booms from the kitchen as he enters the house. “You’re not going to believe what Aubrey Schiffer did today.”

Sitting up from where I’d fallen asleep on the couch, I push my hair off my cheek, rubbing my eyes. “Hey…” My voice is thick with sleep. “I take it you had a good first day?”

“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, but I think animal control might be the most important branch of law enforcement.”

That makes me laugh, and I move my legs around to the floor. “What happened?”

“First, come with me.” He takes my hands in his, gently lifting me to my feet. “Dylan said they’ve made a feast for you at the restaurant. They have buffalo wings, chili-cheese burritos, Thomas made his version of a White Castle burger, and Allie made her mom’s special beignets.”

I look around the dimly lit living room. “Am I dreaming?”

“Nope.” Garrett puts his arm around my waist. “I mentioned you were having some pregnancy cravings, and my little sister got together with her partners in crime to be sure you have everything you need.”

Tilting my head, I smile up at him. “Why are they so sweet?”

“Because you’re my girl, and you know Dylan. She loves you, and she loves a cooking challenge.”

Pressing my lips together, I silently acknowledge the tingle of pride in my veins at him calling me his girl. I’m hopeless, and I don’t even care.

He holds my hand as we take the short walk to the restaurant, and I think about hopping on his back. It won’t be long before my stomach prevents that option. I’m wearing a larger size of jeans, and my red sweater hugs my body. Sliding my hand over my stomach, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the start of a bump.

Dylan meets us at the door. “Look at you!” She steps back holding my hands and lifting my arms. “I think I see a pooch!”

“Do you?” I look down, sliding my hands over my thickening middle. “It’s either that or a food baby.”

“It is not a food baby. It’s little… What fruit are we on now?”

“You’re going to love this one.” I lean forward. “Bell pepper.”

“Craig’s going to love it.” Her nose wrinkles, but she’s laughing.

Rachel skips out of the kitchen to where we’re talking “You’re here! Let me see that baby bump!”

“It might only be a food-baby bump.” Turning to the side, I put my hand on my middle. “You won’t believe how much crap I’ve been eating. Your poor brother has been working overtime.”

Garrett puts a hand on my shoulder and leans down to kiss the top of my head. “Gotta keep my ladies satisfied.”

We both gulp air, and Dylan squeals, throwing her arms over her head in a V. “You’re having a girl?”

Falling back against Garrett’s chest, I start to laugh as I nod. His arms wrap over mine, and he leans down into my ear. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? I’ve been dying to know!” Dylan claps.

“Baby girls are so fun.” Rachel holds my hand. “We’ll dress her up in the cutest little outfits and put ribbons in her hair.”

“What am I missing? Is she showing?” Allie bursts through the double doors leading to the kitchen. “Damn, Liv! Your boobs are enormous!”

Her voice is too loud, and heat races to my ears. “Shut up!” I push her arm, glancing up at Garrett.

He gives me that sly grin that makes my entire body hot, but Dylan explodes with a laugh, shaking Allie’s arm. “It’s a girl! They’re having a baby girl.”

They’re hugging me, and Garrett’s standing back, grinning when Zane emerges from the kitchen. “What’s this I hear about you wrangling snakes, G?”

“Snakes!” It’s a collective gasp, and his gender oops is momentarily forgotten.

“That’s what I said,” Garrett takes my hand again, leading me to a booth near the large, open windows facing the bay.

“Gloria said Nala almost kicked a hole in the wall, she was so scared.”

“Nala did that?” Rachel’s eyes widen. “She’s the sweetest horse! She’s the one I always ride.”

“Sounds like you had an exciting first day at work.” I scoot into the seat beside him.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” Zane slides into the seat across from us with Rachel right beside him.

“I didn’t do a thing.” Garrett stretches an arm along the back of the booth behind me. “Aubrey handled it all like a freakin pro.”

Dylan waves her hands between us. “Hold that thought, because I want to hear all about this, but the food’s getting cold.” Her amber eyes shine when she looks at me. “Garrett told me about your food cravings, and we had the best time making our own versions. Allie and I’ll grab everything. Help yourself to drinks.”

Her excitement reminds me of ninth-grade Dylan, three years younger than us, holding my hand and resting her head on my shoulder like I was already her big sister.

“I’ll get them.” Zane scoots, and Rachel stands to let him out.

Pointing around the table, he takes our drink orders, beers for all and sparkling water for me. He goes to the small bar near the pool-table area, where Edward went as soon as they arrived, and grabs us all drinks.

“Talk about the star treatment,” Rachel teases, leaning forward.

I glance up at Garrett, remembering my comment in Blondie’s.

He laughs it off. “It’s not hard to be a star when you own the place.”

Leaning back, I put my hands on the table, taking in his happy demeanor, his relaxed features, the black vest with the law enforcement seal on his chest.

“Aubrey Schiffer is Craig’s cousin, isn’t she?” Zane puts three longnecks and a tall black can in front of me.

“Yeah, and she’s a badass.” Garrett takes his arm off the back of the booth, leaning forward to take his drink.

My lips twist, and I do my best to fight the unexpected zing of jealousy at this new information. “What makes her so impressive?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if I like her or not.” Rachel sits back in the booth crossing her arms, and I want to reach out and give her a fist bump. “Is she as cute as Craig?”

“Nobody is,” Garrett deadpans, and Zane holds a hand over his mouth.

Forcing a swallow, he shakes his head. “Dammit, G, you almost made me do a spit-take.”

Shifting in the booth, Garrett squints down at me. “Are you seriously jealous of Aubrey?”

I study the can of sparkling water. “I don’t know.”

He leans back, grinning like he won some kind of award. “She’s just a kid. She was in seventh grade when we graduated.”

My lips part, and my eyes widen. “How do you remember that?”

“She told me.”

“That was a long time ago. I doubt she’s still just a kid.”

“Hang on, you two.” Zane holds up a hand in a time-out gesture. “Liv, if it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure Aubrey is on Gloria and Sandra’s team. Not to be stereotypical, but they all went to the Indigo Girls concert last summer, and I’ve never seen her with a boyfriend.”

I huff an exhale. “That’s hardly proof of anything. Everyone likes the Indigo Girls.”

“Not everyone…” Rachel mutters, glancing to the side.

A strong arm wraps around my shoulders, and Garrett pulls me close. “Listen, Cherry, I’m not interested in anyone but you. Hear me?”

Butterflies swoop through my stomach at his bold statement. Zane’s eyebrows flicker up briefly as he takes another sip of beer, and Rachel bites back a grin, her green eyes sparkling.

“What did I miss?” Dylan calls as she, Allie, and a young guy I don’t know carry all the food to the table.

“A lot.” Rachel practically shouts, and I want to kick her under the table.

“No!” Allie cries. “Y’all can’t be telling all the good stories without us!”

“We haven’t even gotten to the story yet.” Rachel winks as she stands to help them pass out the plates.

She gives Dylan a little nudge, and the two exchange a glance. Garrett’s expression is smug as he has another sip of beer, and Zane rests his arms on the table with a grin, looking up at his younger brother.

I’ve known this family long enough to guess what they’re all thinking, and after everything that’s happened, I’m ready to stop being the holdout.

“Here’s what we’ve got.” Dylan sets baskets down the center of the table. “These are the buffalo wings—mild for Liv, but I brought some hot sauce if anybody wants it.”

“I do!” Rachel holds up her hand.”

“Chili-cheese burritos with extra cheese.” She puts the next basket in the middle. “Thomas’s version of a White Castle, which is basically his classic burger, slider-size.”

“I want that!” I’m already drooling.

“And last, but not least, Zapp’s salt and vinegar chips.” Dylan hands me my own bag.

“And my mom’s beignet recipe for dessert!” Allie puts a basket of golden-brown pastries on the end with a silver, cup-sized shaker. “With powdered sugar. It’s not Krispy Kreme, but it’s pretty sweet.”

Dylan’s helper takes the trays to the kitchen while she and Allie pull up two chairs at the end of the table.

“Anybody need more beer?” Allie circles her finger over the group, counting the raised hands.

She runs to the small bar again, while everybody takes a serving of food.

“This is something to look forward to.” Zane lifts a chili-cheese burrito from the basket nearest him.

“As long as the cravings aren’t too weird.” Rachel pours hot sauce over her buffalo wings. “I’ve heard stories—pickles with mayo, raw onions on strawberries…”

“No!” Dylan cries. “Why would anyone do that to a strawberry?”

Allie returns with the beers. “Tell us about the snake wrangling!”

“Like I said, I didn’t do much.” Garrett polishes off his tiny Thomas burger, wiping his fingers with a paper napkin. “Aubrey rounded up a nest of sixteen baby black racers in less than ten minutes, no lie. Sixteen snakes, and those suckers are fast.”

Jumping straight in my seat, I cover my mouth with a napkin. “Aubrey is a badass! Oh, my lord, Garrett…”

“I know!” He shakes his head. “I pretty much handed her stuff when she asked for it and stayed out of the way. Snakes were everywhere.”

“Stop—I can’t stand it!” Dylan waves her hands, doing a full-body shudder. “I would’ve run.”

“Imagine how the horses felt. That mama snake laid them all right there in the back stall.”

Craig walks up with a beer. “Why are y’all having a party back here without me?”

“Share my seat.” Dylan hops up, grabbing his arm. “We’re discussing how your cousin’s a badass.”

“Aubrey? Yeah, she’s got some stories.” He points at Garrett. “She’s so excited you’re coming to work for her. She’s been your biggest fan ever since the incident.”

“What incident?” Rachel’s eyebrow arches.

“Something that happened back in middle school.” Garrett shifts in his seat. “It was nothing.”

“Was that when you got sent to the principal’s office?” Zane’s brow lowers like he’s remembering, and now I’m pretty sure we’re all on the edge of our seats, glancing between both of them.

“The one time.” Garrett nods. “It didn’t happen again.”

“What happened?” I tilt my head at him.

“I was in eighth grade.” Garrett leans closer. “You didn’t know I was alive.”

Craig points his longneck at Garrett. “This guy was always a foot taller than everyone, and when my parents moved here, I didn’t have any friends.”

“You had me!” Dylan loops her arm in his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “We danced together and played Barbie vs. Brats together.”

“And there were a few high school guys who didn’t like boys dancing ballet and playing with dolls,” Craig continues. “So Garrett stuffed them in a dumpster. After punching them both in the face a few times.”

“Just taking out the trash.” Garrett straightens in his seat.

“They were beating you up.” Dylan’s voice is quiet, and her lips press into an angry frown. “You couldn’t dance for a month because of your ribs.”

“But they gave me this sexy scar.” Craig slides his hand along the side of his hair, and a noticeable scar is on his temple.

My eyes widen. “That looks like it was pretty bad.”

“Dad was so pissed you were sent to the principal’s office.” Zane smiles proudly. “I’m pretty sure he threatened to throw that guy in the dumpster along with the bullies.”

Garrett puts his napkin on his plate. “Nobody bothered my boy Cray after that.”

“Or anyone else who played with dolls or danced ballet,” Craig adds.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you were the only fairy doing that,” Garrett quips. “Oh, wait. I was dancing with you.”

Dylan grins, wrapping her arm around her friend’s waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “Those idiots.”

Shifting in my seat, I slide my arm behind Garrett’s waist and rest my head on his shoulder, too. “Were you always being a hero?”

He turns, kissing the top of my head. “When I wasn’t being a dumbass.”