from campus and their food was worth every mile. They had the upper-class feel that Evergreen denizens expected. Flickering candles on the table. Starched white linen tablecloths and soft, upholstered seats. The family-friendly, laid-back servers, and a steady crowd of younger patrons made the restaurant a comfortable place to hang out.
I was the first of my group to arrive. Pulling into the spot next to Val’s car, I killed the engine, climbed out, and strode inside without waiting for the others. Val waved me over from a large corner booth in the back.
Adam sat on her lap, scribbling in his coloring book with his tongue poking out—reminiscent of Val when she was intently working on something.
I sat down and gifted Val a kiss and Adam a ruffle of his hair, pulling a giggle out of him.
“Hi, Daddy,” he cried. “I’m drawing you a robot. It’s your favorite.”
Sure enough the half-colored picture in his book was of a smiling robot with hearts for eyes and waving pinchers for hands.
“Thank you, little man.” I plopped him on my lap. “This weekend, I’ll start teaching you how to build a real robot.”
“Isn’t he too young for that?” Val asked over his cheers. Her beautiful face couldn’t be marred by the worry lines wrinkling her brows. “All those tools you use are dangerous.”
“They have building kits for young kids. And I’ll be there with him.” I found her hand under the table. “Or we could. How about a family project? One for each of us.”
“I’d love that,” she murmured. Val leaned in, pressing a kiss to my lips that communicated her feelings in more than words.
“Aww. You guys are such a cute family.” Cydney slid in on the other side of the booth.
“We are, aren’t we?” Val teased. The ladies hugged, lapsing into a conversation about their weekends. Cydney took her time warming up to me, but she fell for Val within ten minutes of meeting her.
It didn’t take long for the others to arrive. We piled in, me and Sawyer at the end of the half circle and the others fanned out around us. The waiter arrived with our menus. I held it up before me and Adam and rested my chin on his curls.
“What are you in the mood for, Adam? You can have anything you want.”
“Ummm. I want”—he pointed at a random item—“this one.”
I lifted a brow. “A strawberry pisco sour? I admire your taste in drinks, my man, but I thought you were laying off the sauce! You’ve come so far.”
Adam clapped his hand over his mouth, trapping in his giggles.
“Remember those days—passed out in the sandbox. You’ve fought so hard for your sobriety, don’t give up on—”
Val’s swat on the shoulder cut my pleas short. Adam and my team were cracking up. She was having another reaction.
“Don’t even joke about that,” she said to me. Val popped a kiss on Adam’s cheek. “No pisco sours for you, my baby. You can have the cheese ravioli and a small soda. Sound yummy?”
“Yes.”
“Good choice.”
A voice drew our eyes up.
“I think I’ll have cheese ravioli too.”
I felt Val stiffening beside me. Aiden flashed us a huge grin as he walked up to our table and sat down next to Sawyer, bold as shit.
“What are you—”
“Hope you don’t mind, Rick,” Sawyer cut in. “Since we’re all just hanging out, I invited Aiden to join us.”
Schooling my face, I scrutinized him behind hooded eyes, looking for a trace of fear, tension, anxiety. Something you’d see when the guy who lured you to a van to be snatched in the middle of the night rolled up on you.
Aiden turned that grin on me. “You don’t have to pay for me. I’ll cover myself. I just had to get out of the Sam house. It’s weird with no one there.”
Val and I shared a silent communication. How thrilled she was to see him was clear in her eyes. All the same, she gave me an imperceptible nod.
Let him join us.
“You’re staying on campus?” Val asked.
“Yeah. Coach is friends with a professional football trainer. He offered a few guys the chance to spend the summer training with him. I couldn’t pass that up.” Aiden bent over, crossing his arms on the table, and smiling at the boy on my lap. “You must be Adam. Nice to meet you. I’m Aiden.”
He put out his hand and Adam shook it in his tiny grip. “Hi, Aiden.”
Aiden pulled a face. “How old are you? Thirty? Fifty years old?”
“No,” Adam cried,