“How about we come up with a signal in case you decide you don’t want to? I’ll tell them you can’t play because you have a meet this week, and if you hurt your shoulder and can’t swim, I’ll kill you.” Will smiled at the kid. No one in his family would question Will for assuming the impossible would happen. He did it regularly.
Will expected Andy to laugh at his suggestion, but the boy only stared out the window.
“Maybe you could do this with your hair if you don’t want to play.” Will tossed his head back to get his hair out of his face.
Andy let one snort of a laugh escape him. “My hair is nothing like yours, Coach. If I did that, I’d look like I was having a seizure.”
He was right. Will had straight hair that moved when he tossed his head back. Andy’s hair was cut short on the sides, and the top, although longer, was so curly it barely moved.
“So.” Will paused, thinking. “Scratch your head?”
Andy scratched his forehead at his hair line once and turned to Will.
“Yeah, like that.”
After that discussion, Will ran out of things to say. Thankfully, once they joined the chaos that was his sister’s house, talking became unnecessary. Even with just his sister’s kids around, the house was loud. Add a few extra people into the mix, and man, was it hard to keep up.
“How is my favorite little monster?” Will asked, scooping up his niece as he headed through the huge foyer. His brother-in-law was a former baseball star, and their house was twice the size of Will’s gym. Peyton, his niece, was adorable, with her big green eyes and dimpled smile, but even at nine months, she was a handful. “Still making sure Mommy and Daddy never sleep?”
“Don’t encourage her.” Marc came into the front hall carrying Colten, who was Peyton’s twin brother. “Hey, Andy, Steve’s in the kitchen. Mrs. Demoda made queso.”
Andy’s eyes lit up, and he ran into the kitchen without a word.
“Another babysitter bites the dust?” Marc asked.
“Maybe. I’m not sure what’s going on.”
Marc made no comment. Probably because he had nothing good to say.
Andy had been through multiple nannies over the last six months, but Will didn’t remember seeing one around in a couple of days. That usually meant Andy’s sister was home.
“Nick’s here, and Corey’s coming after the game.” Marc changed the subject.
“Game?” Will furrowed his brows. It wasn’t baseball season.
“Taran’s doing a fundraiser with the Nets. Corey’s probably feeling possessive.” Marc grinned. “You know, about her being around all those guys.”
Will chuckled and shook his head. It was more likely that his best friend wanted to be with his woman while he could. They were actually in the same city tonight, and that didn’t happen enough.
After his best friend had settled down with Taran, part of Will had worried that Corey would rag on him to find the “right girl” like he had. But with his need for a controlled environment, the chaos of love had never fit him. Turns out, Will hadn’t needed to worry, because Corey didn’t focus enough on anything—except Taran and baseball—to give anyone a hard time.
“I’ll probably leave before Cor gets here. Practice is at five thirty tomorrow,” Will said as they walked into the open kitchen and living room space.
Will greeted his sister with a kiss on the cheek and his brother Nick with a slap on the back of the head as they stood around the granite island. None of Will’s other brothers would be here, since no one else was in town. Andy was perched on a stool, eating queso like he was worried someone would rip it away.
“Slow down there, buddy. You don’t want to choke.” Will chuckled before turning to Nick’s wife, Morgan, just as Peyton yanked at his hair. “You ready for one of these?”
The way Nick examined his wife while he waited for her response was a clear reminder that Will had never looked at anyone that way. Letting someone have the ability to hurt him was something Will had always steered clear of. As a kid, he’d watched his parents love each other, but after his mom died, the grief that took over his father’s life seemed unbearable. He wasn’t sure how his brothers could open themselves up for that type of hurt.
“God help you if you get a mini-Nick,” Marc teased.
“Stop. Y’all are making me nervous. I can handle crazy, but I don’t know what I’ll do if this little girl doesn’t sleep.” Morgan rubbed her round belly.
“Eh, who needs sleep?” Nick smirked.
“Me!” Morgan said. “Unlike you, I’m not a machine.” Morgan pulled her phone out of her pocket as it buzzed in her hand.
“Speaking of machines, maybe you should stress less about your next book.” Nick shook his head.