Page 63 of Juan

“You sit, I’ll get it,” Spencer said.

“It’s fine,” she said.

“Let him get it, honey,” Clara said. “It’s good for him to feel useful,” she added with a wink in Spencer’s direction.

Her eyes caught his, and he flashed a wry smile. “Stay and catch up with the ladies. We got this,” he said with a nod to Philly and Dulcie, who dutifully followed him into the kitchen.

“When’s the wedding?” Clara asked. “Not that you need to get married, but he seems the marrying kind.”

Amber drew back both at the abrupt change of topic and at the topic itself. But before she could respond, Dottie spoke.

“He is. He may not need it, but he’ll be a hell of a lot less anxious with it,” she said.

“Abandonment issues?” Adrian asked Dottie. Amber’s head ping-ponged between the three women.

“Former foster kid,” Dottie answered. Clara and Adrian nodded as if that explained everything. “He’s strong enough to have a relationship without the legal commitment, but having it will give him that little extra sense of permanence.”

Three sets of eyes landed on her, as if gracing her with the opportunity to speak. She wrinkled her brow at them. “I don’t think you should be talking about him like this. It’s kind of private.”

“Since when does privacy mean anything to the Falcons?” Dottie pointed out. “Besides, he may not shout the fact that he was a foster kid from the rooftops, but he doesn’t hide it. The rest is my opinion, which I’m free to share.”

Dottie did have a right to share her opinion, and Amber had no doubt that the women spoke with only the best intentions. But it still felt too close to gossip for her taste.

“Hey, Juan,” Dottie called, startling Amber. A second later, he popped his head through the door. “To allay Amber’s fear that we’re talking behind your back, I said that because you were a foster kid, you have some abandonment issues, which is why you’d prefer, but won’t require, to actually marry her. You have any problem with that?”

Heat crept up Amber’s neck as his eyes darted to her. Not having a mirror, she had no idea what she looked like, but given the way her heart raced while her body froze, she suspected she and a “deer in the headlights” were pretty close to twins.

“No, it’s pretty spot-on,” he said. “The only thing I’ll add is that while marriage doesn’t necessarily guarantee the parties will stick around, if Amber takes that step, I know her well enough to know that she will have thought it through. Considered all the pros and cons at least a hundred times. So if she does agree, her decision will carry a weight that maybe isn’t the case for other people. She knows how bad marriage can be, and if she still chooses to trust me enough to try again, well, that’s no small thing to protect. I’ll know the value of what she’s giving me.” And with that, he ducked back into the kitchen.

Amber’s heart twisted in her chest at his words, the strength of his vulnerability and honesty humbling her in a way nothing had before. If she hadn’t already known she loved him, she would have fallen over that cliff right then and there.

“That there is definitely a keeper,” Clara said, her voice soft, almost tender. Dottie and Adrian murmured their agreement.

Amber sighed like a lovestruck teenager, her eyes lingering on the door Spencer had disappeared behind. “He is,” she said, mostly to herself. Then, with a shake of her head, she pulled herself back to the absurd conversation they’d been having before Spencer flipped her world on its side. Again. “We’ll figure it out once the dust settles,” she said, hoping that would be the end of it.

That would be too easy. Adrian and Clara beamed at her while Dottie asked, “Can I be your maid of honor?”

An uncomfortable laugh bubbled from her chest before shifting into a shy, hopeful smile. Deciding to give herself away, and the fact that she’d already been thinking about all this, she answered. “I was kind of thinking you could walk me down the aisle.”

Dottie blinked, and her eyes filled as she smiled. Her response was cut off, though, as Callie and Leo walked through the door.

“Today is a good day,” Leo announced, setting his bag down on a table and pulling out a chair.

“Anthony kicked the bucket and Satan welcomed him home?” Clara asked.

“Not that good,” Leo replied, humor and regret coloring his tone.

Philly, Dulcie, and Spencer rejoined them.

“What’s not that good?” Philly asked, kissing his wife before setting down a tray of cheeses, crackers, veggies, and hummus.

“Anthony is still taking up oxygen,” Clara replied.

Spencer shot her a questioning look as he placed a tray of glasses on another table. Amber shrugged.

“But we’re one step closer to ensuring that future oxygen intake will be behind the walls of a federal penitentiary,” Callie said.

“Then it is a good day,” Dulcie said, pouring lemonade from a pitcher into the glasses. He didn’t bother to ask if anyone wanted any, making Amber smile. Not once had any of the Falcons, or their partners, turned down her lemonade. A little bit of cucumber water and mint went a long way.