Jason, in the driveway, hopped off the motorcycle and held out a hand for Colby. Colby, eyes sparkling, caught the hand and swung a long leg over the bike and ended up in Jason’s arms, which had been exactly the plan.
Family noise and pool-party splashes bounced off the airy blue California sky. Barbecue and smoke and spice wafted over. The house—a big laid-back family rambunctiousness—beckoned them over with red-tiled welcome.
The house belonged to Jason’s friend Brick, occasional former stunt-guy partner or adversary depending on the film; the house currently hosted a small Saturday party, just for fun, not too many people but most of them loudly exuberant about jumping off buildings or falling ten stories onto a mat or punching on-camera evil henchmen in a hallway. Laughter waltzed ou
