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My eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re the same guy who said he’d nut and disown any of our teammates who hit on his sister? I distinctly remember threats to spike our water and frame us for steroids.”

Jimmy shrugged, all relaxed satisfaction. “What can I say? I’m a happily married man. While it’d serve Andi right if I meddled in her love life, she’s likely to give you more grief than I ever could all on her own.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

Unsure how to react, I took another sip of water. Was I supposed to defend Andi’s honor, or accept that Jimmy really was older and wiser and be grateful? While I was deliberating, Chase arrived, looking more than a little rough and bleary-eyed. Living that glamorous writer life, probably up late writing all the words.

“Sorry I’m late. I’ll stretch and catch up.”

I nodded, still thinking about Jimmy’s easy acceptance as we moved to the bench press. I spotted Jimmy for his first set, then moved into position for my own.

Focusing on my breathing and making each motion smooth, I sank into the lift, counting out each repetition. My arms shook from the effort as I reached the last one, and Jimmy placed his hands beneath the bar, ready to help if I needed it.

I made the mistake of catching his gaze, and the gleam there should have warned me. He placed a hand against the bar, keeping me from seating it in the brackets, and waited as my arms shook harder.

“Andi may be able to take care of herself, but don’t mistake that with thinking you can break her heart. She’s still my sister.”

His vocal register grew deeper as he intoned his last words, matching the dark expression on his face.

“Easy there, killer,” Chase spoke up from over Jimmy’s shoulder. “I’d like a turn at the bench before you turn our friend into a pancake.”

Jimmy winked, helping me replace the bar, and I inhaled deeply before shaking out my hands and sitting up. I could beat my chest and push up into his space, but part of me understood. If anyone screwed with Julie, I’d be all over their ass too. So, no pressure.

We were mostly silent as we worked through our rotation for arm day. But it was still a friendly sort of quiet. And Jimmy didn’t try to crush me. I didn’t even insist Chase swap with him when it came time to spot me. A little posturing wasn’t the end of the world. He had to save face, couldn’t let me off the hook too easily. But still, it was an enlightened Jimmy. Maybe his wife’s influence? He’d always been a charming bastard, but with Melena’s arrival in his life and that shiny ring on his finger, he’d reached new heights of self-assurance and what I could only assume was peace.

Happiness looked good on him. And if it meant I had his blessing to date Andi, I’d be thankful to Melena.

After cleaning up and changing into fresh jeans and a T-shirt for my farmer’s market shift, I loaded up my folding table and chairs in the back of my pickup and drove to Proctor for the market. The air was crisp, but the sun was burning away the morning fog, and it promised to be a gorgeous day for the farmer’s market.

The Knit Wits booth helped fund our yarn obsession, keeping us in skeins to knit for our donation projects. I’d grown adept at hats, blankets, scarves, and mittens. Knitting kept me from going stir-crazy on calls, keeping my hands busy. Feeling productive, even when I had no control, helped soothe the helplessness after hard calls. Jeannie had coached me in my early days as a dispatcher, helping me learn. Knitting lessons had been a key part of her curriculum for emotional survival, and she’d been right. The soft yarn slipping through my fingers as I manipulated the fibers into new patterns had a meditative quality that couldn’t be ignored.

I set up our table and chairs, waiting for Jeannie to arrive with our tent and wares for the day. Fiftyish and fit, Jeannie ran marathons in her spare time and had the wiry strength that went with pounding out those miles. She could never stay still, which also made her a prolific knitter.

“Hey, Ty. You ready to make some green today?”

I turned to smile at the older woman. Dressed in bright orange activewear and a navy hoodie, her short gray hair complemented her brown skin and dark eyes.

“You know it. Do you mind if I bug out for a while at lunch? I have a friend dropping by.”

Her grin turned mischievous. “Is this ‘friend’ the hottie from Trebek’s Rejects?”

“Ye-es,” I drew the word out. “How did you know?”

Her peal of laughter had others turning our way. “Romeo, you’re not as subtle as you think you are, making out with the opposing team in the restroom hallway. Linda, Bill, and Maggie all saw you treating the lovely lady to your version of tonsil hockey. They reported back with a play-by-play. And here I thought you were only a soccer guy.”

She giggled at her own joke, and I rubbed my hands through my hair, unsure if I should be embarrassed or just brazen it out. Jeannie didn’t act like the team cared.

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

She shook her head. “So long as you stay with the Knit Wits and don’t defect to the Rejects, we’re good. However, try to change teams, and it won’t be pretty.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered sheepishly.

A delighted smile lit her face. “I was young once, you know.”

“Jeannie, you’re still young. You can run circles around me.”

“True,” she said. “But I’m not getting horny in any bar hallways. Just don’t let that pretty young thing keep us from winning and we’ll be fine. She can have your little brain, we just need the big one.”