“That’s not what we need to get on, Mother.”
She acts shocked, but we both know it’s a lie.
I chuckle. “I’m not going to argue with you because we both know you’re already mentally planning this entire thing out.”
“I am. Does three this afternoon sound good? That will give us time to eat and to get everything set up. And to get back to the store if we miss anything.”
“Yeah. Like there will be something you miss.”
“You’re right. I won’t.” She seems pleased with herself. “Is that all you need me for? If so, I’m going to look at what’s available for little girls these days. Does she like anything in particular?”
I think. “Puppies. Watches. Cake. Mermaids?”
Mom laughs. “The fact that you know that just fills me with joy.”
“Don’t you dare tell Oliver.”
Her laughter grows. “I’ll see you this afternoon. If you need something specifically, text me.”
“I love you, Mommy.”
“Love you, baby boy.”
I sit back and take another long drink of my coffee.
And that’s how you get shit done.
I’m thinking about which of the two guest rooms to let Rosie have—the one full of shit or the one I use as a workout room—when a noise at the doorway makes me jump.
“You scared the fuck out of me,” I say as Jaxi comes around the corner.
Her eyes are as wide as plates. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were up. Coffee?”
“Over there.”
I watch her walk around the island with the shortest shorts barely covering her behind. The thin fabric hangs off the globes of her ass. Each step she takes causes the fabric to ride up and almost gives me a glimpse of the curve from her bottom to her thigh.
Fuck. Me.
She disposes of my used coffee pod and puts another in the machine.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I lie. “You?”
“Yeah.”
I think she’s lying too.
“My family is coming over today,” I tell her. “It’s going to be mass chaos, and they’re bringing stuff to help you guys get settled.”
Jaxi whirls around. “Your family? Boone …”
“They just want to help.”
“I don’t …” She takes a long breath and closes her eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what to do in this situation.”
“Um, say okay. Or thank you. Or, Wow, that’s great?”
She opens her eyes. “It’s hard for me to accept charity. Even when it’s well-meant. It makes me feel really vulnerable.”
“Don’t feel that way. Please. I guarantee you my mom is happily online shopping as we speak. This will make her year.”
She bites her lip as she contemplates her response. I don’t give her time.
“They’re bringing dinner, too, which means no takeout. I’m sure that makes you happy.” I walk beside her, hoping she doesn’t notice how my cock tents my shorts as I pass. “This is just the way it is around here. Better get used to it, sweetheart.”
She grins. “I’ll try. But you have done way more than you had to. I’m super appreciative.”
“And that’s how you handle this situation,” I tease.
She leans against the counter, resting her elbows on the surface. It causes her breasts to stick out and I wonder if she’s fucking with me on purpose or if I’m just overstimulated.
“Did you really sleep okay?” she asks. “I can sleep on the couch tonight. I should, actually. It’s your bed.”
“I slept fine. Like a baby.”
“Sure you did,” she says, mocking me.
The coffee machine sputters the conclusion of the cycle, and I hand her the filled mug. Our fingers brush together, and a jolt of energy passes from her into me.
She grins. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem at all.” I pop another pod into the machine. “How are you feeling about all of this? It’s got to be messing with you a little bit.”
She grips the mug with both hands. The playfulness from a moment ago is gone, and I feel bad about that. But I also want her to talk to me if she needs to. It’s a double-edged sword.
“It is messing with me a little,” she admits. “I laid awake all night just thinking about my life and what I thought it would be and what it’s become.” She looks up at me. “I’m not upset about it. It just … it shined a light on my life in a way I didn’t expect.”
“As in …?”
We stand in the kitchen, each of us holding our mugs of coffee. The sun streaks into the room and gives things a cheery tint that probably isn’t representative of the conversation. What strikes me more is how real this conversation is. Two days ago, I could barely get a word out of her about who she was, why she left Columbus, and why she was heading to an island in the Pacific.
And now?
It’s as though she’s peeled away the reticence and is letting me see her soul. It makes things easier, and I’m happy she seems to trust me enough to share with me. But I’m not sure I deserve it. I know I’m not equipped enough to handle it.
“When I was a little girl, I thought I would grow up and have a couple of kids of my own and be this famous realtor, of all things.” She laughs. “In high school, I used to go to all of the model home centers and look at the new homes. And you have no idea how many hours I’ve spent on Zillow, just looking at the houses and imagining what I would do to the spaces or who I could see living there. It’s a weird hobby.”
“A little bit.”
She grins. “But then …” The smile falters. “But then my family fell apart. Nettie left. I left the day after I graduated high school with Shawn. I thought we were so in love and that it was going to be the start of my life, but it was a survival mechanism. I just had to get away from my mom and stepdad.”
I press my lips together and try to think my thoughts through before I say anything. But what can I say?
“Shawn and I tried to have a baby a couple of times, but it didn’t work out.” She looks at the floor. “My mom was calling and asking for money. She blamed her husband’s alcoholism on me because I left. Said he missed me so much.” She looks up. “He didn’t miss me. He was a bitter, nasty alcoholic, and had been every day that we lived with him. Yet she said I was his excuse. She didn’t just let him blame me, which would’ve been fine. She blamed me too.”
My chest tightens. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
She looks resolved. I hate it.
“At least you know it wasn’t your fault,” I say.
“Yeah …” She takes a drink. “I got out of my relationship with Shawn a while back because he actually got someone else pregnant. Blamed that on me too—if I could’ve given him a child, he wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere.”
My jaw drops. Anger bubbles inside me.
“He said that? To you?” I ask.
She nods. “It’s fine. I left him. I knew I’d be okay. But then the thing with Chuck and then the Hawaii offer and I really thought I was finally getting to start with my two feet on the ground for once …” She sighs. “And now all of this. I’m still batting from a deficit.”
“That depends on how you look at it. I’m here to help you.”
Her shoulders slump. “And I’m eternally grateful to you. I just don’t want to be the girl who burdens everyone in yet another chapter of my life. It’s a load to carry around. It’s … depressing.”
I set my cup down. I face her shoulder to shoulder and look at her until she looks at me.
I’m not sure what to do with all of this either. I’m a little messed up about it too. But I’m not going to be the guy who lets her feel bad and dicks her over like the rest of the men in her life—if you can call them that.
“For some reason, the world wanted us to do this together or else you would’ve been able to read house numbers,” I tell her.
That gets a little grin.
/> “So, let’s figure it out,” I say. “Rosie just lost her mom. That’s worse than what either of us are going through.”
“No. You’re right.”
“Maybe whatever life you build from here with Rosie will be better than any life you could’ve made in Hawaii,” I say. “I mean, you can only eat so many pineapples. And I’m not bad scenery. Just saying.”
She laughs. “No, you’re not.”
She must say it before she thinks because her eyes go wide as soon as the words are out of her mouth.
I take a step toward her but am stopped by the sound of little feet pattering on the tile.
“Boone!” Rosie yells. “Boone!”
“Hey,” I say as she enters the kitchen. “Are you okay, little girl?”
She squeezes her Glo Worm tight. “I thought you were gone.”
Oh, hell. I need to make sure she never has that fear again.
Jaxi squats down. “We’re both here. Just wondering what you wanted for breakfast.”
“Pancakes?” Rosie asks.
“I can order that,” I say.
Jaxi laughs as Rosie burrows herself in her arms.
“You and your phone orders.” Jaxi stands and scoops Rosie up on the way. “We have to start eating at home.”
Eating at home.
Rosie leans toward me until I take her. In exchange, I hand Jaxi my phone.
She furrows her brow. “What do I do with this?”
“Order breakfast.” I toss her a wink as I carry Rosie toward the living room. “We have cartoons to watch.”
“Oh, is this how it’s going to go?” she jokes.
“Hey, I have to potty,” Rosie says as if this information is news to her.
I stop in the doorway. Rosie is perched on my hip with her head on my shoulder. I look at Jaxi, whose beautiful face is lit with a soft smile as she looks at her niece in my arms.
She holds my phone to the side. “You really just handed me your phone?”
“So?”
A slow smile spreads across her cheeks. “Okay. Fine. Bacon or sausage with your pancakes?”
“None,” Rosie says. “Just lots of syrup.”
“Bacon for me.”
“I’ll have sausage,” Jaxi says to herself.
Her eyes snap to mine, and I can’t help it. I laugh.
“Let’s get out of here,” I fake-whisper to Rosie. “Your auntie is being naughty.”
Jaxi blushes. It’s a beautiful sight—one I hope to see again.
The odds of it are good because she lives with me.
Which is both the best and weirdest thing to happen to me in a long time.
Fourteen
Jaxi
Oh, my gosh. What are these people doing?
A stream—no, a river—of people come in and out of Boone’s house. Everyone is carrying something. The women bring in containers of food and gallons of tea. The men bring in boxes and packages. A girl with braids who showed up at the same time from a food delivery service brings in paper bags marked with a grocery store logo.
And, in the midst of it all, is a woman with a warm, motherly smile and a no-nonsense attitude who directs the traffic.
I hold Rosie’s hand and tuck her into my side. We stand by the kitchen door and try not to get trampled by the activity.
“What’s happening?” Rosie asks, her face a little pink from the afternoon in the pool.
“I don’t know. I think these people are Boone’s family.”
“Oh.”
Rosie nibbles on her bottom lip and watches the activity. Finally, she shakes my hand away and makes a beeline right in the middle of the thong of bodies.
I rush after her, afraid that she’ll get trampled. “Rosie!”
“Boone!” she exclaims, racing after a man who does look quite a lot like Boone. “Come here!”
The man stops and sets his bags down. “Well, hey there,” he says, kneeling. “What’s your name?”
“Boone?” Rosie asks, screeching to a halt in front of him.
I’m just a few steps behind.
“Nope. Not Boone. My name is Coy.”
“Oh.” She looks around. “Where’s Boone?”
I open my mouth to tell her that he’s outside when, out of nowhere, Boone races through the foyer. He scoops Rosie up, making her squeal.
“I’m right here,” he says, twirling her through the air.
He sets her back on her feet.
Coy stands up and looks at me. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re going to have two babies to take care of if you stick around this guy.”
I laugh. “Did you know you could DoorDash a whole cake?”
Coy cringes. “I did know that, actually.” He laughs. “I’m Coy. I’m Boone’s best looking and most talented brother.”
“Are you talking about me?” Another man who heavily resembles them stops beside us. He’s about the same size but probably a little older. There’s something refined, slightly more sophisticated about him—like a movie star. “I’m Oliver. Nice to meet you.”
Before I can say anything, another lookalike introduces himself.
“I’m Holt.” The man waves as he carries a box down the hall. “That’s my lady friend, Blaire.” He points at a raven-haired woman with a box by the door.
“Stop calling me that,” she says. She then looks at me and smiles. “He’s mad that I won’t take off to the courthouse and marry him on any given day. Lady friend is supposed to make me feel guilty.”
My body relaxes as I put names to faces and absorb their genuine kindness.
I see where Boone gets it from now.
A hand presses gently on my shoulder and I spin around. A set of the faintest green eyes look back at me.
“Hello,” says the woman directing traffic. “I’m Siggy Mason, Boone’s mother.”
“She’s my mom too!” Oliver shouts as he takes another box to the back bedroom.
Siggy rolls her eyes. “I’m the mother to all of the males here. Let me clarify so no one gets their feelings hurt.”
I laugh.
“I really hope I’m not overstepping any lines,” she says, a hint of concern in her eyes. “I sprang to action this morning when Boone called and it wasn’t until on the way over here when Bellamy asked if I’d talked to you. I probably should’ve done that.”
“Honestly, I’m overwhelmed in the best way.”
“If you don’t like anything we picked out, I’ll take it back. All of it. I’m the return queen,” she says, pressing her hands together as if in prayer. “But I truly just want to try to help out. It seems that you’ve had a lot put on your plate.”
I suck in a quick breath. “You could say that.”
“I’m terribly sorry to hear about your sister.”
A lump prickles against my throat. Instead of fighting it, I lean into it and acknowledge that it’s there. It helps it ease a little.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “We weren’t close so it’s not like that. But it still hurts. It’s still … sad.”
She nods. “Of course, it is. Do you have any family to help you at all?”
I glance around the room full of Masons. They laugh at and with each other. They show up to help each other. They bring what must be the entire children’s section of the local department store with them because their brother called needing help this morning.
“It’s just me,” I say, pulling my gaze back to her. “I have a cousin, but she’s … going through a lot right now. I haven’t even told her about Rosie.”
The prickling starts again in my throat as I look around the room for my niece. I can’t see her but hear her laughter coming from the kitchen.
I smile.
“Well, you have all of us,” Siggy says, returning my smile.
My body fills with an unimaginable warmth that starts in my toes and gets hotter as it floods my chest.
She winks. “We can be an overbearing brood, but our intentions are good.”
“
I honestly can’t thank you enough. All of this is just …”
“You’re welcome. And if we miss anything, please let me know. I love shopping, and the only son of mine out of five to have a child is Coy, and it’s not here yet. And he and Bellamy—you haven’t met her, have you?”
I shake my head.
“She’s Coy’s wife. A complete and utter doll. You’ll love her. Anyway, they’ve put me on a spending cap, and it’s making me twitchy.”
I laugh. “That sounds terrible.”
“It is.” She gestures for me to follow her to the kitchen. “I’ll survive, I’m sure, but I would like a little freedom. It’s hard when your children start giving you boundaries. I’m not good with them. So, if you don’t mind, please use me. I’m a mom. That’s what my job is.”
“I appreciate you, Siggy, I do. And while I’m here, I’ll remember that.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “Are you going somewhere?”
We stop in the doorway. The refrigerator is propped open while Blaire fills the void with milk, eggs, fruit, cheeses, meats, and piles of other food items. Boone and his brothers argue about jets over large pans of steak and gravy, mashed potatoes, and the yellowest corn I’ve ever seen. Rosie sits on top of the counter right in the middle of it all. I don’t know her well yet, of course, but the look on her face seems like contentment. Even though her whole life has been turned upside down, there’s a tiny smile on her adorable, sweet face, and it brings tears to my eyes.
She’s calm.
She might even be happy.
I sniffle and turn my attention back to Siggy’s questioning gaze.
“Well, yes, eventually,” I tell her. “I mean, I’m sure Boone doesn’t want a woman and her niece living with him for the rest of his life.”
“Hmm.”
I have no idea what that means, so I smile.
“Can I do anything to pay you back for all of this?” I ask her. “I can—”
“You can keep this child of mine fed so he stops coming to my house and raiding my refrigerator.” She grins. “Now let’s eat. Coy, get your finger out of the potatoes. Were you raised in a barn?”
“It was my plate, Mom.”
“I don’t care.”
Reckless (The Mason Family Series Book 3) Page 12