Page 56 of Shielding his Legacy

Sloan walked up, holding a sweating beer bottle and shaking his head. “Hard to believe you bought this place so you could be a hermit, and now your wife’s turned it into a goddamn social club.”

Gavin flipped a burger and grunted. “She and Grace made a standing playdate with their twins.”

“She invited Lucas and April and me to go rafting with you on the Esopus this summer.”

“I’m already signed up for swim lessons with Abby. I don’t know how that happened.”

Sloan grinned. “You got married, man. That’s how.”

Eva was across the lawn with her camera, squatting low to get eye-level with two kids who were supposed to be smiling but were currently engaged in a high-stakes popsicle duel.

Abby toddled after her, dragging the stitched-up, shot-up doll that had survived the attack on Marina. The good therapist had given it to Abby on her first birthday, and while it looked like it had been through three wars and a kitchen fire, Abby adored it.

“Daddy!” Abby squealed, waving.

He waved back, smiling like an idiot. “Hi, Sweetie.”

Gavin’s mom joined him at the grill. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Why can’t we just knock out one wall of my house and add a guest room for grandkid sleepovers?”

“An addition,” Sloan deadpanned. “On the tiny house.”

Gavin smirked. “At some point it becomes a regular house, right?”

“Not if she keeps calling it tiny,” Sloan said. “Then it’s just ironic.”

Eva strolled over, lifting her camera. “Everyone in front of the grill! I want a shot of Gavin playing suburban dad. Bonus points if someone dumps ketchup on him.”

“Touch me with that bottle,” Gavin warned Sloan, “and I swear you’ll be eating your burger through a straw.”

Eva raised her eyebrows. “Is that a threat, husband?”

He set down the spatula and pulled her close, kissing the tip of her nose. “You saying I can’t follow through?”

“You saying you’re not afraid of condiments?”

He laughed while Eva posed the group—Sloan, Champion, Razorback, Cleats, Marina—they were all there. He looked around—at the chaos, the noise, the laughter, the kids chasing dogs, and dogs chasing burgers—and thought:This is what survival looks like.Not just breathing butliving. Not just coming back from the dark—but building something in the light.

Abby handed him her damaged dolly. “Up,” the little girl demanded, and he happily complied, and unexpected knot of emotion getting stuck in his threat as he kissed her cheek and smiled for the camera.

He was the luckiest man alive.