The last day Stacey walked into Jules' workshop with bags under his eyes and a new tattoo was simultaneously the best and the worst day of Garrett's life.
"Oh, honey," said Cory, who knew the signs by now. She put down the potato cannon blueprint she'd been sketching and gave him a big hug, standing on her tip-toes so her arms got all the way around his neck. "You've got to stop doing this to yourself."
"Looks like she's stopping it for me," Stacey sighed, patting Cory's back. "She's getting married next month. But hey, look, testosterone!" He unzipped his pants.
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