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wasn’t a word she would use to describe him. “I didn’t realize that word was part of your vocabulary.”
    “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 
    “If you want me to go, just say so.”
    “You’d like that, I’m sure.” His lips pressed together and his jaw clenched. “Ash wants you here, and here you are. What more is there to say.”
    “How about welcome to the party for starters.”
    “My manners don’t extend that far. Look, lady, we’re not friends. You’re my kid’s teacher, and for some reason he likes you, so I’m going to play nice. Grab yourself a plate, mingle, whatever. It’s no sweat off my back what you decide to do. Just don’t piss anyone off.”
    Any more than she clearly already had him? Mirroring his stance, Gabby narrowed her eyes on him, her irritation piqued. “Look, Mr. Mahone, I’m not here to pick a fight with you, so how about you dial down the snarky attitude a few notches.” One of his dark brows winged up, making him appear far more intense than usual. Undaunted, she pressed on. “Furthermore, you claim that I gave you an unfair shake, and maybe I did. So this is me extending an olive branch. I came here, curious to see if you would prove me wrong, but so far you’re only succeeding in proving me right.”
    She watched as his gray eyes grew hard and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. Whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t. “Suit yourself, teach. I’d stick around and introduce ya, but I’ve got other shit to do.”
    With that, he turned and marched away, his shoulders stiff and his long strides eating up the patchy lawn faster than a herd of cattle.
    So he’d thrown her into the deep end without so much as a paddle. Gabby’s mood deflated a bit, marginally offended and the very slightest bit stung from Blake’s cold shoulder treatment, but she wasn’t a woman to be deterred.
    She’d come to the party for a reason, and she was determined to see it through to the bitter end.
    And she’d brought cookies. That she’d left in the car. Whipping around, Gabby jogged back to retrieve them.
     
    ***
     
    A couple of beers and belly full of burgers later, and Gabby was a loose noodle who was having the best time of…well, not her life, but certainly the best time she’d had in a long while. It helped that little Ash had come to greet her the second he noticed she was there. Now, he was lying on an exposed portion of the driveway that met up with a stretch of sidewalk coloring pictures with chalk and occasionally looking up to make sure she was still there.
    Gabby hated to admit it, but she was growing attached to him.
    “And then the guy just jumped. Bike goes one way, he goes the other. Gravel spraying everywhere,” Cricket said, gesticulating wildly. Gabby turned back to him, giving her undivided attention. “Man, Sable must have picked out a pound of gravel from Quick’s arms alone. He was a fucking mess, but I tell ya somethin’, he didn’t even flinch when she stitched him up.” His brows lifted as he tipped back his beer.
    The man clearly had a case of hero worship.
    Nose wrinkling, Gabby found herself wishing she didn’t have such a vivid imagination. “Why do you call him Quick? Is it because he rides fast?”
    The other men and a couple women who sat at the table with them burst into laughter, and Cricket—which she’d learned was a nickname he’d earned for being honest and fair—choked so hard on his drink that his whole face turned a deep shade of red.
    The guy seated next to him—a giant of a man that went by the name of Moose—pounded on Cricket’s back with a meaty hand, each thwack making Gabby flinch sympathetically.
    Raising his hand, Cricket said in a strained voice, “I’m good, I’m good. Stop before you send me into cardiac arrest.”
    “Next time you decide to die at my table, I’m going to sit back and enjoy the show, asshole.” Although his words were harsh, Moose wore a warm smile.
    His eyes bloodshot and watery,