Mad About Moon

by Melissa Foster

  “Nah, she charmed me.” He winked at Josie.

  Josie rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if he was allowed in here or not.”

  “Jed’s harmless, unless you’re trying to hurt someone he loves. Then I hear he’ll squash you like an ant. Why do you think he’s prospecting to become a Dark Knight?” Sunny said. “Because he’s just like the others, doing more good than harm in our crazy world.”

  “At least nowadays,” Jed said. “I’ve known my fair share of trouble.” He’d been in and out of juvie, and as an adult he’d spent a few months in jail, but he wasn’t about to go into any of that. All that mattered was that he now lived a clean, honest life. He shrugged off his leather jacket, and the desire in Josie’s eyes was unmistakable. Damn. He liked seeing it a whole lot more than he probably should after only just reconnecting.

  “He’s not too hard on the eyes, either,” Sunny said, before turning her attention to the other women in the room. “If anyone’s uncomfortable, Jed can leave.”

  There were murmurs of “No, we’re good” and “It’s okay.”

  Josie mumbled something indiscernible, but her pink cheeks gave away her interest. “Lord,” slipped from her lips like a secret as she sat beside the cute brunette with the pixie cut.

  “I hope God looks like that,” the brunette said softly.

  Josie scowled at him as if he’d done something wrong. She waved toward her friend and said, “Moon, this is Tracey.” She motioned at the kids and said, “This is my son, Hail, and his friend Emily, Jenna’s daughter.” She pointed across the room to a redhead sitting at the other table.

  The redhead waved shyly.

  Bones had called earlier to let him know Sarah had spoken to Tracey and offered her the job. Tracey’s eyes moved curiously between Jed and Josie. He wondered if Josie had mentioned him to her. “Tracey, you’re Sarah’s friend? The one the Whiskeys offered the waitress job to?”

  “That’s me,” she said.

  “I work there, too. I think you’ll like it. There’s a good crowd, and don’t worry, we’ll all watch out for you.”

  “You work there?” Tracey glanced at Josie.

  He was sure some type of secret girl message passed between them, though he had no idea how to translate it.

  Sunny introduced him to the ladies at the other table, and then she pointed to the empty chair beside Hail and said, “You can take my seat. I’ll sit over here.”

  “Alrighty then.” He sat down beside Hail and said, “Hi. I’m Jed. I hear you like cars and trucks.”

  Hail nodded. “Mostly trucks.”

  “I see that.” Jed reached across the table and grabbed a backhoe. “Frosting scoop?”

  Hail giggled and shook his head, sending his bangs swinging in front of his eyes. “Mama said no trucks in the frosting.”

  Jed winced. “My bad. I need to learn the rules.” He mouthed sorry to Josie.

  She smiled and shook her head, relaxing a little.

  “So, Hail, I’m a first timer,” Jed said. “Think you can show me where to start with a gingerbread house?”

  “Uh-huh. First you need to help Mama make you a house,” Hail said as he grabbed an M&M from a bowl and stuffed it in his mouth. “She’s the best gingerbread house builder. My daddy was the best real house maker.”

  Jed’s father had been killed by a drunk driver when he was eleven, and even though he knew Hail’s father could be out of his life for any number of reasons, his use of was sent a pang through Jed’s chest.

  “Bean, you forgot to tell him that you’re the best house decorator,” Josie said as she pushed to her feet and went to the counter. “And Emily’s got a knack for decorating, too. Then there’s Tracey, who eats more candy than ends up on her house.”

  She was trying so hard to change the subject, Jed could feel her discomfort. He told Hail he’d be right back and joined Josie at the counter, where she was busy cutting through a sheet of gingerbread.

  “It’s really easy,” she said as she cut, her eyes trained on the gingerbread. “The key is to be sure you make the opposite pieces the same size. I used to use templates, but—”

  He silenced her with a hand on hers, drawing her eyes to his. “He said his father was the best. Is he still in his life? Are you running from him?” he asked quietly.

  “No and no.”

  “You don’t have to be cagey. If he hurt you, we’ll deal with it the right way. I’ll keep him away from Hail.”

  She wrenched her hand away and glared at him. Then she glanced at Hail, and her shoulders fell. They just deflated. He tried to wait patiently for an explanation, but his fucking heart was pounding. His hands curled into fists, and as he started to ask again, she blinked up at him and said, “His father would never hurt either of us. Not in a million years.”

  “Good. I’m sorry. I just…” His relief was short-lived when he realized what the flip side of that coin probably was.

  “He had a congenital heart defect we didn’t know about,” she said sorrowfully. “He died a little more than two years ago.”

  “Christ, Jojo. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks. Can we please not talk about this?” She glanced at Hail again. “He and I have finally moved on from the worst of it, and I’d like to keep things light.”

  “Of course, yes. But…” He put his hand on her lower back, and she closed her eyes for a second. In that second he realized he didn’t know shit about women. Was that a sign of relief that someone cared about her, or was it Josie biting back the urge to tell him to get his hand off her? Erring on the safe side, he moved his hand, and when she opened her eyes, he gazed into them, seeing hurt behind a steely shadow of strength.

  He wasn’t sure how to handle this situation, but he wanted her to trust him, and the truth came easily. “You’re the only person on this planet who knows most of my secrets.”

  Her brows shot up in surprise.

  “I know, but it’s true. My longest relationship lasted about eight or ten hours, with a girl at a keg party.”

  Her jaw dropped. “No way.”

  He held up two fingers and said, “Scout’s honor.”

  She reached up and pried a third finger free.

  “Aw hell, guess I got that wrong, too. Obviously I wasn’t a Scout, but you can still trust me with your secrets.”

  She scoffed. “A guy who can’t hold on to a woman wants me to spill my guts? I don’t think so.”

  “Guess I don’t blame you. But you should know it’s not a matter of my not being able to hold on to a woman. I mean, look at me.” He flashed an arrogant grin, earning an amused glance. He picked up a slab of gingerbread and said, “I just haven’t found one I want to build a home with.”

  “Wow. It’s all or nothing with you, huh?”

  He’d never thought of himself as an all or nothing guy, but now that she mentioned it, he wondered if it was true. “You going to show me how to do this, or what?”

  “I thought your biker boyfriends sent you here to protect me, not to make gingerbread houses.” She aligned two pieces of gingerbread at a right angle and put Jed’s hand on it, holding it in place as she grabbed a sleeve of frosting.

  He chuckled at boyfriends. “Actually, I offered,” he confessed.

  She pressed her lips together, studying his face. “Hm. Interesting.”

  Her expression softened, and she squeezed frosting along the edges of the two gingerbread walls. Then she set another wall in place. “Can you hold this?”

  He did, and she glued them together with frosting. She worked meticulously and wordlessly until they’d created the entire gingerbread house.

  She set her hands on her hips and said, “This is how you build a house. But there’s a world of difference between a house and a home, and from what I hear”—she glanced at his tattoo of a wolf in sheep’s clothing on his forearm, and her stomach dipped—“big bad wolves are better at blowing them down than shoring them up.” She pointed at the house, and with a challenge in her eyes sh
e said, “That has to sit for a day before you can decorate it. These things take time.”

  “Seems like I’ve got a lot to learn.” He followed her back to the table.

  “Where’s your house, Moon?” Hail asked as Jed sat beside him.

  “Well, bud. It seems mine won’t be ready to decorate until tomorrow. You can call me Jed, by the way.”

  Hail flashed his tiny, crooked teeth and cocked his head to the side, a lot like Josie had when she’d been studying him. “Mama calls you Moon. Can I call you Moon, too?”

  Tracey fluttered her long, dark lashes, and with a teasing arc in her voice she said, “Can I call you Moon, too?”

  Josie rolled her eyes again. He had a feeling he’d be seeing that a lot from her, but she was smiling, and he’d take the eye rolls and the scoffs and anything else she used to protect that heart of hers. Now that he knew she’d lost her…boyfriend? Husband? He didn’t know which, and it didn’t matter. She’d lost someone special, and her son had lost his father. Jed knew all too well what losing a parent did to a kid—not to mention to the woman he’d left behind.

  He leaned closer to Hail, lowered his voice, and said, “You can call me Moon, bud.” He set his eyes on Josie and said, “But I think our friend Tracey is going to have to call me Jed, because Moon is reserved for old friends and their kids.”

  Jed reached across the table, commandeering a bowl of dark and light caramel squares. He held up a light one in front of Hail and said, “Check it out, buddy. It’s the same color as your hair.” He glanced at Josie, who was watching him like a hawk, and said, “Bet you didn’t know I worked as a stonemason one summer.” He watched her jaw drop. She quickly schooled her expression. “I know a thing or two about building houses, but making a home? Now, that takes a whole different skill set.”

  “What’s a stonemason?” Hail asked, grabbing a handful of caramels.

  “Someone who builds with stone. Let me show you.” He picked up another caramel and held it between his finger and thumb. “Think of this as a brick.” He painted frosting on all but two sides of the caramel and set it against the wall of Hail’s gingerbread house. “Frosting is the mortar that holds the bricks together,” he said as he picked up another, painted all but one side, and stuck it beside the first. “We’re building a brick chimney. Help me out, buddy.”

  Hail picked up a caramel, and when he reached for a plastic knife, Jed said, “How about we paint it with your finger? Like this.”

  He grabbed a bowl of frosting, and Hail yelled, “No! My mom said no fingers. We all have to share the bowl.”

  He winced again and turned what he hoped was an apologetic gaze to Josie. “Sorry. I’m batting a thousand today.”

  Tracey laughed. “I like a guy who takes responsibility for his actions.”

  “It’s okay, bean,” Josie said. “You can do it this time.”

  “You’ve got a pretty cool mom,” Jed said as he set the bowl of frosting in front of Hail, meeting Josie’s gaze, which was a little dreamier than before. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

  “I want to use my fingers, too!” Emily chimed in, drawing her mother’s attention.

  Jed called out to Emily’s mother, “My apologies for not being a good influence, but would you mind if they share a bowl of frosting and use their fingers?”

  “She gets more germs on the playground,” her mother said. “Go for it.”

  The kids cheered.

  He felt the heat of Josie’s stare as he helped the kids build a caramel chimney.

  They spent most of the afternoon making elaborate gingerbread houses, and a competition ensued, Tracey and Josie versus Jed and the children. Josie and Tracey’s house had pretzels fences, green frosting trees, jelly beans that were speckled like stones stuck all over the walls, and meticulously decorated yards. Jed and the children’s house was a mess of finger-applied frosting and candy chaos. Peppermint sticks sprang out from the top of their three-layer-deep chimney, and there wasn’t a spec of gingerbread that hadn’t been touched by little fingers. Jed had never imagined doing anything like this, but the fun afternoon was made even better by the multitude of times he caught Josie watching him. Sometimes she looked like she wanted to climb across the table and kiss him, and there was no hiding the silent scolding in her eyes when he cracked the roof and accidentally cursed.

  Kid rules. Time for me to learn them.

  When they were finished, there was more frosting and sticky candy on the kids and the table than the house. He offered to help clean up, but Josie jokingly said he’d done enough damage. He put on his jacket and realized he’d forgotten to give Hail his gift.

  While Emily was busy washing up with her mother, he knelt beside Hail and said, “Thanks for showing me the ropes. Merry Christmas, buddy.”

  Jed pulled the gift from his pocket. Hail gasped, but instead of reaching for the gift, he looked at Josie with wide, hopeful eyes. His face and hands were covered in sticky candy and frosting, as were his clothes. Even his hair had streaks of white frosting clinging to the messy strands. If Jed were Josie, he’d never be able to turn those pleading eyes down.

  “It’s okay,” she said, turning a warm expression on Jed.

  Hail snagged the gift and tore open the wrapping paper. “Mama! A truck!” He held the little green 4x4 up for her to see.

  “Wow. That’s a really thoughtful gift. You should say—”

  Her words were drowned out by her boy as he launched himself at Jed, who was still kneeling, wrapped his arms around his neck, and exclaimed, “Thank you!”

  His sticky hands pressed against the back of Jed’s neck. Jed knew when Hail pried himself away he’d be covered in sugary remnants, and he didn’t care because Josie’s little boy was clinging to him like a monkey, and she was gazing at him like he’d just hung the moon.

  Hail wiggled from his arms and turned to run out of the kitchen. Josie snagged him around the waist and said, “You’re too sticky to go out there. We’ve got to get you washed up first.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Mama, stop! I wanna play!” He wiggled free, then darted away.

  Jed grabbed him as he ran past and lifted him up with two hands, so he was almost touching the ceiling. “Hey, bud. What’d your mama tell you?”

  Hail giggled. “To wash up.”

  “And where were you going?” he asked the boy. Hail didn’t seem to have an answer beyond more giggles, which tugged at his heartstrings. “If I put you down, are you going to run?”

  “Yes!” He giggled, making Jed laugh, too.

  “At least you know the value of honesty.”

  Josie covered her laugh with her hand and said, “Laughing makes him want to do the wrong thing.”

  Jed frowned at Hail and said, “Dude, is that true?” He lowered him to his feet and took hold of his hand. “No wonder I got in so much trouble when I was a kid.” He placed Hail’s hand in Josie’s and said, “I heard you need a job.”

  She crouched beside Hail and said, “Honey, can you go into the kitchen and put the stool by the sink? I’ll be right in to help you wash up.”

  Hail went into the kitchen, but instead of going to the sink, he sank down to his knees and began driving his new truck across the floor.

  Jed chuckled. “I think you’ll need to hose him down.”

  “Kids and dirt go together like spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “So…are you looking for a job?”

  “I’ve been searching for a while, but no one is hiring. I didn’t work much before we lost Brian. And after, well, it’s been hard. He had no life insurance, and we lost our house. I got a job and a place to stay but lost both when Hail got sick and I couldn’t work. I’m just trying to keep our heads above water.” She sighed and said, “I’ve scoured the area, and there’s nothing out there. I’m trying to figure out what to do next.”

  Christ, she might not have been abused, but she’d definitely been through hell. “Have you thought about applying in Peaceful Harbor? It
would put you closer to Sarah and Scott.”

  “I’ve thought about it,” she said. “There’s a lot to think about.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure there is. I’m working tomorrow, but I can swing by and take you around the Harbor Thursday to apply at a few places. In our town it’s more about who you know than how many online applications you can fill out.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t.”

  He crossed his arms and said, “Can’t or won’t?”

  She glanced at her boy, and then she lowered her voice and said, “I appreciate the offer, and the gift for Hail, but I can’t apply for jobs in person until he’s back in school after winter break.”

  “Oh, you have him registered? That’s good.”

  “He was so excited about starting kindergarten, I figured it would give him some stability. He likes it so far. But I’m not ruling out being closer to Sarah and Scott. We’ve got a long way to go, but eventually maybe we’ll want to live on that side of the bridge.”

  “Cool.” He took out his phone and said, “Give me your number and I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

  She slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans and said, “No cell. Sorry.”

  He wondered if that was true or if it was her way of blowing him off. “Listen, I’m not trying to take over your life. I’ve been where you are, only I didn’t have a place like this or family rallying around trying to get to know me. I also didn’t have a cute boy counting on me to make my life better.” That earned him a sweet smile. “But I went through years of sleeping wherever I could—in my truck, on friends’ couches—and scraping by. It’s okay to ask for or accept help sometimes. I’m just trying to be a friend. I’m not sure if I was a good listener when we first met, but I’ve grown up and learned a lot. I’m a good listener now.”

  He hoped to hell she wasn’t going to throw in his face that he hadn’t listened earlier when he’d pushed to spend time with her. She opened her mouth to speak, and he cut her off and said, “I can be a good listener. I can also be pushy, but I mean well.”