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“I’d love to see the hotels,” Cheryl says as she hands me the bowl of mashed potatoes. “It’s been years since I’ve been to Vegas.”

I scoop a dollop onto my plate, and the gravy comes next, which I pour all over the potatoes.

I’m excited to taste everything—and not nervous like I thought I’d be.

Since Cooper’s family came in last night, his mom was here to oversee the cooking. She scolded Cooper when he shooed her out of the kitchen, telling him that it was her favorite place to be. She insisted on helping, and in the process, she taught us both a thing or two—things we couldn’t have learned from our YouTube tutorials, like how to cook with love .

Cheryl really is the best.

She’s across the table from me, and Cooper’s going to sit at the head of the table between us, but he’s currently walking around the table pouring wine for the adults and kid wine —or sparking grape juice—for the kids.

“I want to go on the High Roller,” Marissa says. “That big Ferris wheel thing. I think the boys would like that.”

“I think they’d like the Stratosphere,” Connor adds.

Marissa gives him a look of horror. “Those rides are way too much for them, dear.”

“Some have age requirements, too,” Cooper says. “And the High Roller and the Stratosphere aren’t exactly close. It’s like a four-mile walk.”

“Good thing we’re here through Sunday, then, right?” Connor follows his words with his boisterous laugh.

“We’ve got a full schedule, Connor,” Marissa reminds her husband. “Turkey today, stadium tomorrow, tickets to that magic show on Saturday…”

“Right. One thing for each day? Let’s pack this trip up with events,” he says.

She rolls her eyes and glances at Cheryl. “He’s always like this. Go go go, never take a five-minute break.”

“That’s how he’s been since he was a little boy,” Cheryl admits. “What if we went for a walk on the Strip tonight after dinner to check out some of the hotels and maybe ride the High Roller? Then tomorrow Connor can choose something else to do after the stadium tour.”

“Good compromise, Ma,” Connor yells from his side of the table with a giant thumbs up. He leans in toward his brother. “Gentlemen’s clubs, blow, and poker, am I right?” He doesn’t exactly mask his words, but I’m pretty sure his nine- and eleven-year-old sons have no idea what he’s talking about.

Cooper smacks him in the back of the head, much to the delight of his nephews. “No, you’re not right.”

“Okay, fine. You’re heading toward a new season, so no blow. See? I can compromise, too.” Connor brushes off his shoulders with zero modesty.

Cooper smacks him in the back of the head again, and Jacob and Ethan both crack up. “I’ll hit some tables with you, but you’re on your own for the rest.”

Connor rolls his eyes, but it’s all good-naturedly and in good fun as Cooper slides into his chair. He reaches under the table to squeeze my knee, and I smile at him.

A warm and fuzzy feeling fills my chest as a ripple of love travels up my spine. I’m so happy to be here, so happy with Cooper, so happy with how I fit in with his family. It all just feels natural, like everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be. I wish my dad and Joanie were here, too, but then the warmth I’m feeling wouldn’t be there since Cooper and I would be acting once again.

I take a bite of potatoes. They’re light, and they’re buttery, and they’re whipped to perfection.

Damn, Cheryl’s a good cook, and damn, Cooper and I are fantastic sous chefs.

“Ethan, tell Uncle Coop about your baseball team,” Connor tells his son as I force myself not to have an orgasm over mashed potatoes.

“You tell him,” Ethan says, shoving a rather large forkful of green bean casserole into his mouth.

“His team went eleven and one,” Connor says proudly. “He was a star on third, just like his uncle. And he hit three homers this season.”

“Four,” Ethan corrects him around his mouthful of food.

“Oh, right. Four.” Connor holds up four fingers.

“And look at him eat!” Marissa adds with glee. “Remember when he’d take one tiny bite of everything and ask to go play his Nintendo? Now he’s eating like a horse!”

“A growing horse,” Cheryl says with a smile.

All the attention is on Ethan, and I can’t help but glance over at Jacob. Having never grown up with a sibling, I have no idea what it’s like to feel left out, but I see it there on his little face.

“Weren’t you on the swim team?” I ask him. He’s the younger brother, and since this family is most definitely a baseball family, I get the feeling he often feels left out.

His eyes light up at the attention. He nods as he sits up a little straighter. “I set a personal best on the freestyle at our last competition.” The pride in his tone is nothing short of adorable.

“Four homers was a personal best in one season for me, too,” Ethan interrupts.

“You’re both doing a great job,” Marissa says, nodding proudly at her boys.

The meal is a total success, and we’re all so stuffed that a walk down the Strip sounds next to impossible. And that’s when Cheryl says, “Okay, everyone. Shoes on. Let’s head to the Strip to burn off some calories and take in the flashy Vegas sights.”

She’s met with a chorus of moans and groans, but eventually everyone gets up to make her happy. Forty-five minutes later, we’re walking along Las Vegas Boulevard. Cooper and I each drove a carful of people and we parked in the Harrah’s garage since it’s close to the High Roller. As much as I want to hold Cooper’s hand while we walk down the Strip, we both know we can’t just in case somebody recognizes him.

So I walk and chat with Marissa and Cheryl, and Cooper walks and chats with his brother while the boys are sandwiched somewhere in between us.

Marissa and Cheryl head up to the booth to purchase tickets for the High Roller, and I hang back with Cooper. I spot Ethan as he’s talking to Connor near the front of a store, but I don’t see Jacob anywhere.

“Is Jacob with your mom and Marissa?” I ask Cooper.

He cranes his neck to try to get a look, and then he looks at me and shakes his head. “I don’t see him.” He glances over toward Connor, and then he makes his way over with me right behind him. “Where’s Jacob?”

Connor looks around and checks the line where Marissa and Cheryl stand. His brows dip, and he strides over to them.

I turn around in a circle, panic starting to climb up my spine as I don’t see him in the near vicinity.

There’s a lot of people walking around. It would be easy for a child to get lost…or worse.

I don’t let that thought form, but fear takes an icy grip onto my heart.

“Jacob?” Marissa yells, jumping out of line and looking around like I am—but in a different way. With motherly panic that her son is missing. “Jacob?”

“Let’s look around and meet back here,” Cooper suggests, somehow staying calm even though I feel on the verge of tears and this isn’t even my kid.

“I’ll retrace our steps back,” I volunteer. “I’ll text you if I see him.”

He nods, and I take off from the way we just came while he formulates a plan with the rest of his family. I draw in deep breaths while my eyes dart everywhere looking for him.

I try to think back to the last time I saw him. I just noticed he was missing when we got into the line at the big Ferris wheel, so he can’t have wandered too far off.

I duck into the souvenir shop we just came out of. He was with us when we walked in there. Maybe he stayed behind to check things out, but the store is filled with loads of junk he wouldn’t really want, and I don’t see him anyway.

Come on, Gabby. Think .

And that’s when it hits me. I remember he was tugging his mom’s arm when we passed by a candy store a block or so ago, but she was talking to Cheryl as she ignored his request to go in.

I race back to the candy store, darting in and out of people as they walk in the opposite direction as me. They’re cursing at me and glaring at me and I couldn’t care less as I work my mission to find the missing boy.

I throw the door open and glance wildly around, and I see the top of a little head over a bin of candy.

I walk in that direction, and sure enough, he’s sitting on the floor munching on some chocolate covered raisins. I send Cooper a quick text.

Me: Found him. Sugar Shack. He’s okay.

I slide down the bin and take a seat next to him. “Can I have one?”

He hands one over, and I chew it. “Your family is worried about you.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away as he chews thoughtfully on his raisin, and then he glances over at me as if his nine-year-old mind is judging whether he can talk to me about this or not.

And then he does. “Nobody ever listens to me. Nobody ever wants to do what I want to do. It’s always Ethan Ethan Ethan, baseball baseball baseball. I’m sick of it, and I wanted to see what was in this store.”

“I get that,” I say softly. I hold out my hand for another raisin, and he hands one over.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

I shake my head. “It’s not my job to punish you, buddy. You shouldn’t have run off, and you shouldn’t be eating candy you haven’t paid for—”

“You’re eating it,” he points out.

I laugh. “I’m going to pay for it. Fill the bag, and you can pick out one other thing, okay?”

“Aren’t you mad?”

I shake my head. “I’m glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters right now, and I’m sorry you felt like nobody was listening to you.”

“Nobody ever listens to me.”

“I’ll listen,” I offer. “And you know what? I didn’t have a brother growing up—or a sister—so I don’t know what it’s like to feel what you’re feeling right now. But it wasn’t exactly fun having all the attention all the time, either.” I wrinkle my nose.

“It wasn’t?”

I shake my head. “Nobody to blame. Nobody to throw the attention to. Nowhere to hide. But you’ve got a lifelong friend in your brother. Only you two know what it’s like to grow up with your mom and dad. You two share a bond nobody else in the world has, and that’s pretty darn special, don’t you think?”

He twists his lips. “I guess.”

“Pick out your candy, and we’ll take it up to pay,” I suggest. “Then we get to go on the big Ferris wheel.”

“Do we have to?” he asks.

My brows crinkle. “You don’t want to?”

He shakes his head as he blanches a little. “I’m scared,” he whispers.

“Then I won’t go either. We’ll hang out here in the candy shop.” I lean in and lower my voice to a whisper. “Or even better, I saw an ice cream shop by the wheel.”

His eyes grow round as he draws in a loud, excited breath. “You did?”

I smile and nod as he picks out chocolate pretzels next, and we head up toward the register just as Marissa comes bursting through the doors.

“Oh my God! Jacob Joseph Noah, you are in big trouble!” she cry-yells at him, grabbing him up into her arms like she’s never going to let him go.

I bring the candy up to the register. “Add a little weight to the raisins, please. We sampled a few,” I say to the cashier as I set the bags down on the counter.

He nods and rings me up while Marissa smothers her boy, and then we head back toward the wheel where the rest of our group waits for us.

“You’re a hero,” Cooper whispers into my ear, his voice warm and proud.

I grin, and then the rest of them head toward the wheel while Jacob and I hang back to get our ice cream sundaes, Cooper’s words wrapping around me like honey the whole time.