Page 77 of Full Moon Frenzy

“Are-are you running for office?” Adriana’s voice was hesitant. She still tiptoed around conversations, especially with the domineering duo, but Trapp hoped it was getting easier for her.

“Eventually, but I’m a few years off from that. I had court today, which is why we are in the Bouillon Room, to answer your question.”

“Did you win? Are we celebrating?”

Grayson rolled his eyes, signaling to a server. “I don’t win anymore, Trapp. I go around in circles chasing the same fucking issue over and over again, in front of the same judges, with all the same fucking talking points. As long as we’re not dismissed outright, I have to call that career satisfaction. Anyway.”

They paused when the server arrived, taking their drink orders.

Adriana leaned close until he bent to her lips. “Do I look okay? This place is fancier than I was expecting. I feel like I should be showing more tit.”

Trapp grinned, teeth nipping at her neck. “You know I am never going to say no to that. But you look beautiful.”

She nodded, tugging on the hem of her black dress after accepting his kiss.

“Trapp, we have a real problem. I don’t know if you realize that.”

He straightened up, brow furrowing, waiting for Vanessa to continue.

“We need to know what’s going on with the two of you,” Grayson continued, sitting back, wrinkling his nose, as if Trapp and Adriana had presented themselves for inspection and were coming up lacking. “Every day, we are losing ground. You see that, don’t you? It is a perilous place to be.”

“What the fuck are the two of you going on about? Are you going to say something that makes sense at any point tonight?”

“You two need to make your relationship very official, real fucking fast. We are outnumbered, Trapp. Jackson and Owen have supplanted us. With Mom. With Dad. Everywhere. They are completely enmeshed at City Hall now; that’s their domain. Dad doesn’t even have the same pull. Jackson wears the baby in every day like a backpack and the whole building thinks he’s Superdad. That leaves the field wide open for Owen to pull his Owen bullshit. Open your eyes.”

He began to laugh, stopping when he realized his brother was serious, and then laughed harder. “Gray, you realize that’s fucking insane, right?”

Vanessa was shaking her head. “It’s not, Trapp. He’s right!” She and Grayson shared a fast look. “We think Owen and Tabitha are already married. If she comes to Christmas dinner and announces she’s pregnant, it’s done.”

Trapp leaned in, eyes narrowing. Now they had his attention.

“Wait, Owen, your brother? And his girlfriend? Why do you think that?”

Trapp slapped an open palm down on the table, making Adriana jump. “Motherfucker, you’re right," he choked out. "Dad told Lowell that Owen bought a ring, and that was like two years ago. That sneaky fuck!”

Grayson sat back, raising his hands. “I’m glad you’re caught up.”

“But why?” Adriana cut in. She had also leaned into the conversation, as if she were too interested in the Hemming Family telenovela to miss the next scene.

“Because that’s Owen’s MO. He’s a sneaky bastard; always has been. Like, since he and Lowell were kids. I cannot believe I am still getting grief for eloping.”

“Exactly.” Vanessa leaned in, finger going down on the glass-top table, a prosecutor going in for the kill. “And because you have already established the precedent within the family, it’s not going to be received as harshly. But because he’s seen how your parents reacted to you not telling anyone, he knows better. They’re keeping it under the radar until they can come to the negotiating table with a stronger position.”

“What’s that?” Adriana asked, her beautiful eclipse eyes like saucers.

“They’re waiting until she’s pregnant. I am telling you, Trapp. They learned from your mistakes.”

Trapp sat back, allowing the server to put fresh drinks on the table, twinkling up at her. He hadn’t forgotten how to be Trapp Hemming, after all. He still knew his lines. He just delivered them more sparingly these days.

That week he had made breaded veal with linguine at the firehouse on his night to cook. Adriana had made a freezer full of cheese-stuffed arancini a few nights earlier, to prove he wasn’t the only were in the relationship who knew their way around the kitchen, packing a tray for the firehouse.

His station mates had practically cheered.

The next day, they responded to a call at the community center — one of the seniors had fallen during class. Marva had been there, stapling up a flyer for the fall festival. “Trapp, I don’t suppose we could get your help hauling tables for this?”

He had given her one of his professional Trapp Hemming smiles, the one he reserved for the community center, for the elementary school, and the ice cream social. “I think we’ve got something going on that weekend, Marva. Sorry. But do you still need help with this?” He tapped the flyer a bit higher on the wall, the children’s carnival being set up in the library parking lot as a fundraiser for the play center.

“Oh, why, yes!”