TJ have that honor, he cleared the table before anybody else got to play. He lined up his cue and focused on the purple ball, weaving a quick air-current spell. Pool balls were notoriously difficult to steer, but he’d been practicing. Or at least he called it practice—Nell called it corrupting a four-year-old.
“You gonna be able to do this after that baby girl of yours shows up?” Devin chomped casually on a spicy wing.
Jamie growled. Devin’s distraction tactics were notorious. And effective. Dammit. He backed away from the table and glared at his brother. “That depends on whether she gets my version of the Sullivan genes, or yours.”
Dev grinned. “Could get Matt’s instead.”
Jamie snorted. No way his baby girl was going to be the careful, cautious variety of Sullivan. That much he could already tell.
TJ frowned. “Aren’t you guys identical triplets?”
Jamie leaned back over the pool table. “That’s what they tell us. But you’ve met Matt. Do you really think we’ve all got the same genes?”
TJ watched as the purple ball ran for the side pocket—and missed just left. “Nope. Matt’s way better at geometry than the two of you.” He shrugged. “Maybe he got grabbed by aliens. Smart aliens.”
“Must have been.” Govin grinned, long used to TJ’s wacky theories of alien abduction, and handed Dev a pool cue. “You’re up.”
Jamie waited. His brother was the weak link in TJ’s march to pool supremacy. He monitored Dev’s mind, looking for that moment when his brother’s brain fired the “go” signal to his hands, and pounced. So, what’s up with you and Lauren?
The ball Dev had been aiming at nearly landed in TJ’s nachos. “Out of my head, bro.” His scowl brought back some very good memories.
Jamie grinned. “Fine. What’s up with you and Lauren?”
Govin’s eyebrows winged up. “Nat’s friend?”
Nat’s best friend in all the world, which meant he had a message to deliver. He looked at Dev. “Don’t mess with her, or my wife will make your life living hell.” That was a loose translation of Nat’s message. Hers had too many words.
“Women.” TJ munched another nacho. “Way more trouble than they’re worth.”
Jamie wasn’t dumb enough to try to defend the institution of marriage to three confirmed bachelors. Or maybe two. Because Devin’s mind was suddenly seriously queasy. Damn. Nat was right again.
Govin looked thoughtful. “You’ll make lovely babies together.”
Devin’s hot’n’spicy wing nearly came out his nose.
TJ patted him on the back, hard enough to send the nachos flying. “Don’t let them spook you, man. They’re just trying to get you off your game.”
Jamie grinned. Mission accomplished. Now, time to see if they could rock the big man. “Sierra’s coming to your office tomorrow. Can you chill with her for an hour or so? Govin and I will swing by and grab Aervyn and the first batch of whatever Nell’s cooking, so we won’t make it there in time to meet her.”
TJ turned a little pale. “You want me to talk to a teenage girl? For an hour?”
Devin’s belly laugh rang through the entire bar. “Focus, dude. They’re just trying to get you off your game.”
TJ stared mournfully at the last wing. “It might have worked.”
Chapter 14
Sierra turned off the road at the address Govin had given her, grateful for the re-loan of Jamie’s moped. The house was in the middle of nowhere, or at least not on any major bus routes. Ten minutes out of town, and then a driveway winding between two rocky hills. On the upside, it was heading right toward the ocean, and that was a pretty nice job benefit.
Her view suddenly widened, and she stopped abruptly, yanking off her helmet. The salty air wasn’t gentle here—it swirled up the cliffs and blasted into her face. She reached out her hands in welcome, letting go a trickle of magic to play with the winter wind, glad she still had magic to play with.
It wasn’t the warm teasing of Hawaii or the mist-shrouded gales of Oregon. But it was her wind, and she was finally alone with it. She teased it a bit, trying to get a feel. Not the thundering power of Ocean’s Reach, either—just a strong blow with some tricky edges. She grabbed one of those edges and threaded the needle, weaving it back through the middle—and laughed as wind buffeted her from both sides.
“Yo. Sierra.” She spun around as a deep voice yelled from the doorway of a farmhouse. “Quit messing with my wind and come on in.”
She rolled the scooter up to the