Page 78 of The Final Contract

He crouches, catching her hug like he’s done it a hundred times, and the sight makes my chest ache in ways I don’t want to name.

Oliver’s next—my nephew, ever the serious one. Killian ruffles his hair in greeting, and Oliver doesn’t miss a beat before launching into an enthusiastic lecture on everything he’s learned about the praying mantis. Killian listens, nodding solemnly, as if my nephew has just handed him classified intel.

Inside, the party is in full swing. Kids scream and chase each other, icing flies, balloons pop. Adults cluster in little pockets—moms gossiping near the kitchen island, uncles crowding the grill outside.

Eventually, the crowd ebbs into the backyard, and my sister finally slips away from her hosting duties to collapse into the chair beside me. For the first time all day, there’s quiet between us.

I hand her my bottle of amber beer. She gulps it greedily, not even pausing to wipe her mouth.

She tilts her chin, pointing across the yard. “That’s Stacy.” She says the name like it’s coated in something sour. “Self-proclaimed Daniel’s ‘work wife.’ Even after he’s told her to knock it the hell off.”

I follow her gaze to the woman in question—laughing too loud, leaning too close to my brother-in-law.

“She doesn’t just ignore boundaries,” Stasia continues, rolling her eyes. “It’s like she’s trying to push him into an affair.”

My sister looks back at me, eyes sharp with mischief. “She doesn’t know I keep that dick well satisfied and on lockdown.”

I choke on a laugh. “Not very girls’ girl of her.”

“Certainly not.”

My sister’s eyes track him across the yard—Killian, who just glanced my way again, giving me a small nod. There’s the faintest tug of a smirk at his mouth, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

I feel Stasia’s stare burning into me.

“Don’t start,” I mutter, dragging from my bottle.

“I like him for you,” she says simply. “And I know you like him.”

I groan, tipping my head back.

“Maybe more than like him?” she presses.

I don’t bother lying. Not to her. “A lot more than like him.”

Her smile softens. She slides her arm around my shoulders and leans her head against mine.

“Yeah, that’s more than obvious. He feels the same way about you.”

My heart stutters. “Yeah?”

She huffs a laugh. “Don’t be naïve. Anyone can see it. He’s crazy about you, sis.”

Before I can answer, Aurora yells out, “Cake!” from across the yard. Stasia groans, but I push up from my chair. “I’ll get it.”

Killian follows me inside, that shadow at my back. “Need a hand?”

“If you’re offering.”

I’m setting the cake on the counter, arranging candles, when the back door creaks open again. Stacy breezes in, a too-bright smile plastered on her face. She goes straight to the fridge for a lemon water before turning with sugary sweetness.

“Oh, that cake looks delish,” she gushes as I press candles into the frosting. “Daniel loves frosting, you know—make sure he gets a great piece.”

I freeze, staring at her. She smiles like we’re girlfriends sharing a harmless secret.

“You know, if you just want to cut a piece now, I’ll take it to him.”

Like it’s normal. Like it’s acceptable to carve into a kid’s birthday cake before the candles are even lit just so she can hand-feed her little crush.