by Dylann Crush
“You’re welcome? Don’t I already spend enough time helping you?” Her reaction didn’t make sense to him. She could see it in the confusion clouding his eyes. It didn’t make sense to her either—except for the feeling that it was too much. He was getting too close. Helping him out with Kenzie and sharing some mutually beneficial time between the sheets was one thing. But going public, making a huge statement by doubling the highest bid, that was commitment. And the one thing she’d never done was commit. Not to anyone or anything.
Suddenly, the lights, the costume, the stifling heat backstage behind the curtain became too much. Jinx whirled around, desperate for a way out. The red light from an EXIT sign caught her eye. She brushed past Cash, swept by Dixie, and pushed through the back door to the sanctity of the parking lot. She had to get out of here. Out of the Rose. Out of Holiday. Before it was too late.
* * *
“Jinx!” Cash let the back door to the Rose slam behind him. The gravel parking lot overflowed with cars, but she was nowhere in sight. She couldn’t have gone far. While he walked through the lot, he peered between the rows of trucks and cars. Damn, he hoped she hadn’t taken off down the highway in that ensemble. She’d freeze to death before he could find her. He’d just make a loop around the building. If he didn’t see her by then, he’d head toward home and hope he came across her on the way.
As he neared the pigpen, he picked up the faint sound of someone crying. Or it could have been Pork Chop pigging out over the evening bucket of scraps. Either way, he needed to investigate.
There she was. Huddled against a wooden beam under the tin roof of the pigpen, Jinx had her arms wrapped around her waist. Pork Chop nudged her through the fence, and she looked up just in time to notice Cash approaching.
“Go away. I don’t want you to see me like this.” Her voice hitched, raw with emotion.
“Hell, Jinx, I’ve seen you in a lot worse shape. Remember the tassels?” He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and kept walking, slow and steady like he was approaching a spooked mare.
She let out what he’d consider a little bit of a laugh. “Those were pretty awful.”
“What’s wrong? What did I do this time?” He stopped in front of her and resisted the urge to reach out and pull her into him. She had to be freezing in that getup. “I figured you could paint unicorns and rainbows all over Kenzie’s walls. That’s worth at least five hundred bucks.”
She covered her face with her hands. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
“Now come on. You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” He wanted to lift her chin, get a good look at her eyes. See if he could see beyond the lies. Instead, he held his ground. He didn’t want to scare her off by pushing too hard too fast.
“I don’t belong here. This is too…too…” Her hands flailed, gesturing at everything all at once.
“Too what?”
Finally, she met his gaze. “Too much. It’s all too much.”
Cash slipped his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. “I don’t know what to say to that. Are you talking about the town or me specifically?”
She let out a huge sigh and pulled the jacket tight. “It’s everything. People are too nice.”
“Well, that is the one thing I’ve never been accused of before.”
Unshed tears pooled in her eyes. “Especially you.”
Cash glanced down at the pig bumping against his leg. His hand slipped through the wide gap in the fence to scratch behind Pork Chop’s ears. “What’s so wrong with being nice? The way I see it, you’ve hit a rough patch and could use a hand. You’re helping me out with Kenzie. I just happened to have somewhere for you to stay—”
“People don’t help me. Don’t you get it?”
Cash took a step closer. “People don’t help? Or is it more like you don’t let them?”
She backed up against the wall. “I can’t.”
“No, baby”—he pulled her into his chest—“you won’t. Let me in, Jinx. I’m scared too.”
She didn’t yield, just stood stiff in his arms, her palms against his chest. “Do you know how I got the nickname Jinx?”
Cash whispered along her hairline. “Do you want to tell me?”
“From my mom. She said I was deadweight. That I jinxed her from being able to keep a man.” Her laugh came out half-bark, half-cry. “I was ten.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You tell a kid something like that and they believe it. Sticks with them, you know?” She sniffled, then rubbed her hand under her nose.
He slipped his hand under the jacket to rub circles on her back and tried to think of something to say to erase the years of hurt. Her shoulders heaved up and down. Tears soaked the front of his favorite button-down plaid shirt. Didn’t matter. What mattered was right here in front of him. How could he convince her she wasn’t a jinx? Especially to him.
Minutes passed. The waterworks ceased. Her breathing slowed.
“You okay?” His hand stopped circling her back.
She tried to bury her head in his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” The only person who needed to apologize was over a thousand miles away. If he ever happened to run into Jinx’s mom, he’d make sure she spent the rest of her life trying to make things up to her daughter.
“For ruining your night. For being a hot mess. For destroying your shirt.” Dark black streaks crossed her cheeks. “I’ll replace it.”
He didn’t even look down. “I don’t care about the shirt.”
“No?”
“No. And you didn’t ruin my night. I came here for you. Charlie sent me a text and told me Dixie suckered you into going up on the auction block. I couldn’t let anyone else win the nicest elf in the auction, now, could I?”
She blew out a laugh. “I’m the worst elf. I’m sure they’ll refund your money if you ask for it.”
“I don’t want my money back.” He pulled away.
“What do you want?” Her breath came out in puffs in the chilly night air.
“Honestly?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know. But I want to figure it out. And whatever it is, I know I want you to be a part of it.”
“Why? I ruin everything. I’m bad luck. Like a rotten penny that keeps turning up. Or a black cat. Or a—”
He cut off the rest of her words with a kiss. The salty taste of her misery on his lips made him want to prove to her that her mom was wrong. She yielded slightly, her lips responding to his kiss. It wasn’t all in his head. There was something between them.
He pulled back to meet her gaze. “That’s not true. Kenzie adores you. You’ve been a huge help at the school, and Charlie would be lost without you right now. You’re a good person. Your mom was wrong.”
She met his gaze, her eyes brimming with tears again. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Then we’ll find out together. Let me be part of your journey. That’s all I’m asking.”
Her head tilted toward his chest in an almost imperceptible nod. The blood pounded through his ears. She was game. He’d done a great job of convincing her. Now he needed to convince himself he was worth the effort.
Chapter Nineteen
“Kenzie, come on. You’re going to be late for school!” Jinx shoved the crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich into a plastic bag with one hand while she licked the sticky strawberry jam off her finger.
Kenzie skipped into the kitchen, still in her favorite Disney princess pj’s. “I can’t have peanut butter for lunch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Zander Lewis is allergic. If he even breathes it, he can die.” Her eyes rounded. “His mom said so to our class.”
“What does your dad fix you for lunch then?” Jinx snagged the offensive, allergy-ridden sandwich from the pink-and-purple lunchbox a
nd tossed it on the counter. Looked like she’d be eating PB&J for lunch today.
“Daddy makes me eat school lunch, but it’s always so disgusting.” Kenzie stuck out her tongue and faked gagging.
“I’ll figure something out. Go get dressed. If you miss the bus—”
“Will you drive me to school today, Jinx? Pleeeeeeeease?” Kenzie grabbed her hand and pulled on her arm. “Puhleeeeeeease?”
Where did she get her flair for the dramatic? Not from her dad—he was as cut-and-dried as they came. “You’re making me crazy, kiddo. Get your clothes on and then we’ll talk about it, okay?”
“Okay.” Kenzie stuck out her lower lip. “But Tanner farts on the bus. He thinks it’s so funny. Why are boys so gross?”
Jinx rolled her eyes. “Second-grade boys are gross. Sometimes they get better as they get older. Get dressed!”
“Daddy still farts though.” Kenzie’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t think I ever want to kiss a boy.”
“Good plan. Now no more talking until you come back fully dressed.” Jinx pointed in the general direction of the bedroom.
Kenzie dragged her feet in a sullen march to find her clothes. They were on day three of Cash being up in Dallas for training with two more to go. How would she ever survive? Just getting the kid up and out the door used up all her energy for the day.
The bus honked on the main road out front. Jinx thrust her feet into a pair of boots by the door and scrambled halfway down the long gravel driveway to wave the driver on. No sense holding up a whole bus route for an uncooperative drama queen. The kids on the bus pressed their noses against the glass as they pulled back onto the road. Shoot. She had on one of Cash’s long T-shirts and a pair of his cowboy boots. Nothing like a little show before school for the elementary kids.
She trudged back to the house to find Kenzie dolled up in the outfit they’d picked out the night before. Thank God for small favors. At least that battle had ended. She rummaged through the pantry, then tossed a nut-free protein bar and an apple into the lunch box along with a tube of yogurt and a juice box. That would have to do.
“Sit right here for five minutes, okay? I need to run a brush through my hair and throw on some clothes.” Cash had borrowed his dad’s truck so she could have his to cart Kenzie around this week. But she’d have to put on something besides her pajamas if she was going to run Kenzie to school. “Hey, make sure your bag is all packed up—your math worksheet, that reading page, oh, and the permission slip for your field trip next week.”
Kenzie yelled back to her. “I need to bring in some frosting for the gingerbread houses.”
Jinx had barely pulled on a pair of leggings. “What?” She stuck her head out of the doorway to Cash’s bedroom. The space that should have been a guest room had been filled with workout machines, and he’d insisted she couldn’t sleep on his couch for a week. Sleeping in his bed, taking over his space, felt more natural than she’d imagined.
Cabinet doors slammed, then something thudded onto the kitchen floor. “Uh-oh!”
“What in the hell is going on out here?” Jinx rounded the corner to the kitchen.
Kenzie was sprawled in the middle of a powdered sugar explosion. Fine, white dust covered her hair, the countertops, and the floor. She didn’t move except to point at a jar full of dollar bills on the counter. “You owe the curse-word jar.”
“First, you tell me what happened.”
“I need to bring frosting. We’re making gingerbread houses, and Daddy said I could do the frosting.”
“Then why did you throw powdered sugar all over the kitchen?”
“That’s how Nana does it.” Her lower lip quivered.
Hendrix hopped through the sugar explosion, licking piles of powdered sugar from the floor.
Jinx needed to come up with something quick or she’d have a crying, sugarcoated second grader on her hands as well as a hopped-up dog. “Tell you what. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll swing by the store and get some frosting after I drop you off at school.”
“But it won’t be like Nana’s.” The lip wobbled. Tears filled Kenzie’s eyes.
Before she had a chance to think about it, Jinx said, “I’ll make frosting then, okay?”
Kenzie wiped a powdery hand across her cheek. “Do you have Nana’s recipe?”
“Not quite. But I’ve got something almost as good.”
“What?”
“Google.” Jinx tapped her phone. “Now come on. It looks like it snowed in the kitchen. Let’s get you desugared and off to school.” She reached down to pick up Hendrix, brushing the white dust off his back.
Kenzie took her hand and let Jinx pull her to her feet. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, kiddo.” She brushed the sugar off Kenzie’s hair, her shirt, her leggings. How did Cash do it? This parenting thing was tough.
An hour later, she stood in the kitchen, willing the slop in the silver mixing bowl to miraculously turn into something resembling some form of icing. She’d dropped Kenzie off, then picked up the ingredients to make what promised to be melt-in-your-mouth buttercream frosting. It looked more like the consistency of milk. She dumped more sugar in the bowl and kept the mixer going. A huge cloud of white poofed into the air. Jinx traced the fallout with her eyes as particles of powdered sugar drifted down to cover every available surface in the kitchen.
“Oh, screw it.” She didn’t wait for the dust to settle. Cash’s keys felt heavy in her hand as she stomped toward the truck.
The tiny market in town had two cans of Betty Crocker French vanilla frosting. Jinx bought both. Plus a plasticware container to transfer it to so she could hide any evidence of it being store-bought. By the time she pulled into the elementary school parking lot, she never wanted to think about buttercream again.
She followed the instructions and slid her ID through the security system.
A grizzled voice came through the speaker. “Come on in. The security system isn’t working today.”
Jinx set the container of frosting down on the admin’s desk with a little more force than it required.
“What’s this?”
“Frosting. For Kenzie Walker. She said they were making gingerbread houses or something.”
“Just add it to the stack over there.” The woman pointed to a teetering tower of Betty Crocker French vanilla containers on the table by the door. “Most kids just bring in the store-bought kind.”
Jinx took in a few deep breaths. Don’t lose your shit. Not at Kenzie’s school. She pulled together a sugar-sweet smile and added her container to the table. Doing everything Kenzie’s way wasn’t working. It was time she tried figuring things out on her own.
* * *
Cash parked his dad’s old farm truck in the lot of the Dallas hotel. Hopefully, the ancient beast would make it home. He’d left his own truck behind so Jinx would have a way to shuttle Kenzie around. The training had been going well, but it had brought up some major concerns. Drug traffic across south Texas was on the rise, especially around the little neck of the woods he called home. The suppliers from Mexico were getting more and more sophisticated. He’d have to keep his eyes and ears open.
He contemplated which delivery joint to call for dinner while he passed through the dingy hotel lobby. They’d tried to encompass the holiday spirit but failed. A few sprigs of fake pine needles curved around the reception desk. Christmas carols played in the background, and a lopsided tree occupied a corner. Holiday preparations would be in full swing at home. He and Kenzie hadn’t had a chance to go get their tree yet. He couldn’t wait to let her wake up in her own bed on Christmas morning instead of sleeping over at the big house. Sure would be nice if Jinx was around to celebrate the holiday as well.
Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy who dove into the unknown headfirst. But that seemed to be what he was doing with Jinx. J
ust thinking about her made him hyperaware of the emptiness of his hotel room. He pulled out his phone and pressed the button to video chat. He’d been calling to check in every night, but tonight, he wanted to see her.
The phone buzzed, waiting for someone on the other end to pick up. Finally, right before he gave up, Kenzie’s face appeared on his screen.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“Kenzie, is that you?”
She giggled. “Yep.”
“What are you doing, Tadpole? It looks like you went swimming in sawdust.” White powder covered her face and clung to her hair.
“Jinx made it snow!”
“Did she? Is…uh…Jinx there, sweetheart?” He could tell they were in the kitchen. But what the hell was all that white stuff? It didn’t snow in Holiday. At least not for real. Not unless she’d borrowed the snow cone machine from the diner.
“Hey.” Jinx’s face filled his screen. White powder was dusted across her nose.
“What’s going on? Kenzie said you made it snow.”
“I had an altercation with your mixer.”
“I’m not sure I get what you—”
Jinx’s face disappeared. Her phone skittered across the floor. It looked like it had landed screen side up. He could make out the ceiling of his kitchen and the edge of a countertop. A tongue lapped the screen.
“Sorry about that. Kenzie dumped a handful of snow over my head. Hendrix sends kisses.”
“We’re making snow angels, Daddy!”
Jinx tilted the phone to show his baby girl moving her arms and legs up and down while she lay in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“It’s just powdered sugar.” Jinx’s voice came from off-screen. “We tried to make frosting this morning, and, well, let’s just say it didn’t work out.”
“How many inches of snow fell in my kitchen today?” His mom would drop dead on the spot if she saw the state of his floors right now. But the smile on Kenzie’s face made it worthwhile.