I begin to smile, sensing their energy. “You’re both excited about this, aren’t you?” Thatcher enjoys his job, and it’s often a high-octane, high-risk one, and I suppose this will jolt them with more adrenaline. “To spend more time with you,” Thatcher says, looking down at me. “Hell yeah.” A smile explodes across my face, and I sip my beer, feeling like my thirteen-year-old easily smitten sister.
