“Come on, sweetheart, come to Daddy,” Greyson urged, kneeling on the floor as he encouraged his gorgeous nine-month-old little girl to walk toward him. She took a hesitant step, then another . . . before tumbling toward him at a precipitous speed, her gait ungainly but determined. He caught her just before she fell and swung her up in celebration. She squealed in delight, and Greyson turned to Olivia, a huge grin threatening to split his face in half.
“Did you get that?”
“I did,” she laughed, holding up her phone. “And it’s on its way to Gammy and Gampa and Gran and Papa.”
“Good girl, Piper,” Clara said in her high-pitched voice, clapping her pudgy hands as she praised her baby sister. “I knew you could do it.”
“Yes, you did,” Greyson said, picking the three-year-old up with his free arm and giving her a huge hug as well. “You’re such a great big sister.”
“Meat’s ready,” Harris called from the back patio, and Clara squealed, wriggling to be let down. Greyson complied, and the girl went tumbling to her plastic table and chair, her small, scruffy rescue dog, Flopsy—so named by Clara because the pup had “big, flopsy ears”—yapping along behind her.
“Gweat! I’m hungwy,” she announced before sitting down and folding her arms on the surface of the table expectantly.
“I know you are, munchkin,” Harris said, stepping into the house. “That’s why I put a rush on it.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean it’s burnt on the outside and raw on the inside again,” Libby grumbled good naturedly, and Greyson chuckled. His wife often gave his brother flack over his grilling prowess, but they all knew that she would rather have Harris at the grill than Greyson any day.
“I think you’re mistaking me for my brother, Bug. We may look identical, but I assure you, I’m the better cook.”
“You don’t look identical. Greyson has a much handsomer nose,” she said, waving a dismissive hand, and Tina laughed from her spot on the sofa. She was heavily pregnant with twin boys and didn’t move around easily these days.
“That’s a low blow,” Tina protested. “I think he looks rakish with that nose.”
“You’d damned well better,” Harris retorted. “Since you’re the one who’s responsible for it.”
“I broke it, I bought it,” Tina said with a smirk. Harris sank down on the sofa next to her, his hand going to her huge belly while he whispered something in her ear. She giggled and slapped his hand.
“You’re a lech, Harrison Chapman. Propositioning a heavily pregnant woman like that,” she said teasingly, and he growled before planting a kiss on her laughing mouth.
Greyson loved their Sunday-afternoon gatherings. It had become something of a tradition in the three years since they had moved to Riversend. A way to unwind after a busy week. MJ’s was doing phenomenally well under Tina and Olivia’s leadership. Greyson and Harris had successfully set up a division of the company in Riversend and now used it as their home base. They had created quite a few jobs in the town as a result and had quickly made a mark among the townspeople.
Greyson served on the city council and volunteered at the youth-outreach program with Spencer. And Harris had campaigned to bring several winter festivals—including poaching the cheese festival from the next town over, for some reason—to Riversend in order to promote off-season tourism. It was a very successful pet project, and all the local businesses had seen an uptick in winter commerce thanks to those festivals.
And at the end of every week, they touched base with Sunday lunch at Greyson and Olivia’s beach house. The original house had been torn down after a year, and they had built a bigger place to suit their needs. Sometimes they went to the hill, where Harris and Tina had built a delightful log house with a fantastic view of both the town and the ocean. Sometimes Sunday lunch was just a family affair, but their friends often joined them as well.
“Why so serious, my love?” Olivia asked, coming up beside him and winding her arm around his waist. She wiped a crumb from Piper’s drooly chin before lifting her gaze up to meet Greyson’s.
“I was reflecting on how lucky I am and how incredibly happy you make me. Thank you for my life, Olivia.”
“I think you mean our life.”
Greyson draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Our life. Thank you for our wonderful life.”