All In (The Naturals, #3)

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

“Too young to party, just old enough to participate in federal investigations of serial murder.” Lia let out an elaborate sigh. “Story of my life.” “Lia.” Dean leveled his own version of Briggs’s look at her. “I know, I know, don’t agitate the nice FBI agents.”

Home isn’t a place, Cassie. The memory crept up on me. Home is the people who love you most, the people who will always love you, forever and ever, no matter what.

“Did you know,” she said brightly, making another attempt at conversation, “that elevators only kill about twenty-seven people per year?”

“We shared a room for forty-four percent of the last calendar year,” Sloane said wistfully. “So far this year, we’re at zero.” I turned to look at her. “I missed you, too, Sloane.”

When she turned back to face me, the expression on her face was flippant. “What I’m saying here is that Michael is about one downward spiral–induced bad decision away from eloping with a showgirl, and Sloane has been acting weird—even for Sloane—since we got here. We are officially at issue capacity, Cassie. So I’m sorry, but you don’t get to be effed up right now.”

I didn’t get the chance to follow up before Sloane popped into the kitchen and went to pour herself some coffee. Briggs eyed her warily. Sloane’s tendency toward high-speed babbling when caffeinated was a thing of legend. “I called you last night,” Sloane told him reproachfully. “I called and called, and you didn’t answer. Ergo, I get coffee, and you don’t get to complain.”

At the mention of Aaron’s name, Sloane’s hands curved tightly around her cup of coffee. Michael cocked his head to the side and stared at her. An instant later, he caught me watching him and raised an eyebrow at me in an unspoken challenge. You know something’s up with Sloane, I thought, and you know that I know what it is.

You could tell them the exact odds of winning. You could tell them that chance favors no man. Red or black, it doesn’t matter. The house always wins.

“Lia,” Dean gritted out. “We’re staying here.” “Of course we are,” Lia told him, patting his shoulder. “And I am in no way planning to go no matter what you say, because I always do what I’m told. Goodness knows I have no real attachment to making my own decisions,” she gushed. “Especially when the person issuing orders is you!” We went to the pool.

Sloane let out a long breath. “Based on my calculations, now would be an appropriate time for someone to hug me.” Beside her, Dean opened his arms, and Sloane melted into them. “Raise your hand if you didn’t realize Dean was a hugger,” Michael said, raising his own hand. Lia snorted.

“A substantial portion of apologies are issued by people who have nothing to apologize for.” That was Sloane’s way of telling him that it was okay,

I wanted answers—but when I let myself, I wanted this more. Dean and Lia and Michael and Sloane—home is the people who love you most. Forever and ever.

“Forever and ever,” Laurel whispered, each word a knife in my gut. “No matter what.”