“On that note, I’ll leave you to do what you need to do and get back to work.” When I thumb over my shoulder, he dips his chin.
“I appreciate that.” Then, as I turn back to the hall, he adds, “Something going on with you and my brother again?”
I stop in my tracks and glance over my shoulder in surprise. “No. I mean… no.”
He smirks again. “Too bad.”
Too bad?
“Better let you get back to work.”
“Uh, thanks.”
And somehow, despite his interruption and commentary on me and Jesse, I manage to get through a half day’s worth of my own work in two and a half hours. By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m exhausted, but feeling accomplished.
I pack up my things, shut down Jesse’s computer, and lock the door to Enders Excavating behind me, before I head out to the Enders’ for Jett. I find him playing catch with Al in the front yard.
“Look at you!” I can’t keep from grinning, watching him throw that ball with all his might—and quite well, too, for four-years-old. “You’ve got a great arm, kiddo!”
“Just like his dad,” Al says, easily catching the pitch and tossing it right back. “Speaking of which, I heard you’re helping out at the office for a bit.”
I stroll into the yard and nod. “Just until things get caught up.”
“How bad is it? Between you and me.” Al’s expression tightens.
“Not as bad as Jesse thinks it is. I should have him set by the end of the week.”
His shoulders relax and he dips his chin exactly like Aiden did earlier. “Good. That kid doesn’t know how to say no, and I was worried someday it would catch up to him. Glad that day isn’t today.” Al’s concern for Jesse is palpable, but so is his pride.
“Has he always been like this? Always doing the right thing, even if it ends up costing him his sanity in the process?”
Brow furrowed thoughtfully, Al nods. “Afraid so. Fatal flaw he inherited from my side of the family.”
“Good to know.” Even though I more or less already knew. Jesse’s been doing the right thing by me for a long time now.
“About time we wrap this up, Jettster. Grammy’s probably got dinner ready for me and you have to go home and get something in your belly, too.” Al tosses the baseball from hand to hand as Jett sulks over.
“All right,” he pouts. “Play again next time?”
Al dips his chin again. “You betcha, kid. Now, what do you say we go inside and say goodbye to Grammy?”
“Okay.” Still sullen, Jett leads the way inside where Janice sets plates on the table.
“Just in time!” Her hair is piled on top of her head in something akin to a beehive up-do and she’s wearing a blue floral apron. “You’re staying for dinner, right?” she asks, looking at me hopefully.
“Um...” I was not expecting to, but something tells me I don’t dare say no. “Sure.”
“That’s what I thought.” She winks and grabs Jett by the hand, leading him to the sink to wash up. “I’ve made enough kopytka to feed an army, so I hope you’re hungry.”
I have no idea what kopytka is, but I sit nonetheless.
“This is very kind of you. I had planned on stopping at the store and—”
“Nonsense. You’re family. You’ll eat with us.”
Al snorts, but there’s a lightness in his eyes that promises he doesn’t mind the unexpected company one bit.
“That’s Daddy’s spot,” Jett informs me when he saunters over the table, smelling like lemon dish soap.
“Oh, yeah? I hear you and Daddy have dinner here a lot.” I chuck his nose and he giggles.
“We having cake for dessert, Grammy?” he asks Janice as she sets a potful of what looks like gnocchi in front of Al and a smaller kettle of white sauce in front of me. She grabs two more dishes, one with what I’m guessing is Polish sausage, and another that looks like some kind of crumble topping.
“Nope, tonight we’re having apple pie. I’ve been trying to figure out your secret ingredients, Hayden, but I don’t think I have it quite right.” She narrows her eyes over a small, thoughtful smile. “Any chance you’ll tell me what your secret is?”
“There are actually two. One in the crust and another in the filling.”
“I’ve figured out the vodka in the crust—that’s actually an old Polish method—but the filling has me stumped.”
“A dash of chili powder and cardamom with the cinnamon.”
Her eyes go wide. “You’re kidding me. Chili powder?”
“A literal dash. Too much and it ruins the whole pie.”
“Well, I’ll be.”
Al sits back in his chair, shaking his head. “I’ve been eating pie with vodka in the crust? Can we feed that to the kid?”
Janice swats at his arm. “It cooks out. Besides, it’s a lot less scandalous than store-bought apple butter.”
Al groans. “Not this again.”
“What am I missing?”
“You don’t want to know,” he mutters as Janice takes a seat next to him.
“Oh, but she asked, so I’m going to tell her.” And she does. She spends the next couple of minutes dishing up our dinner plates while unloading a story about how that Kaminski girl used store-bought apple butter to make her winning pie at last year’s festival.
“I have a very hard time believing it beat out your pie, no matter how she tried to do it.”
“Mmm hmm.” She purses her lips, all Blanche Devereaux. “The icing on the cake was Jesse deciding it’d be a good idea to date that conniving little witch.”
“Ma, are you really going on about that again?” Out of nowhere, Jesse strolls into the kitchen, looking sexy as hell in dirt-scuffed work clothes. He tosses his ball cap onto a side table and pushes a hand through his hair, mussing it like I love so much. But… is that Kaminski girl Mikayla?
“Are you really going to keep seeing her?” Janice counters and I know, without a doubt, who they’re talking about.
“Do we really need to talk about this right now?” Jesse lets out a half chuckle, half sigh as he drops down into the chair on the other side of Jett, looking even more exhausted than he did last night.
Janice eyes him for a long moment, probably seeing what I see, before she sighs. “Fine. I’ll drop it for now. Only because we have company tonight.”
Jesse glances my way with a small, but potent smile that warms my insides. “Hi, by the way.”
“Hi.” The urge to go to him and massage the tension from his shoulders is strong, but I resist. For now. “Your mom insisted I stay. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Glad to see you here, actually.”
“You didn’t say hi to me, Daddy!” Jett pipes up, with an affronted crease in his little brow.
Jesse laughs and ruffles his hair. “Sorry, little man. I get to see you all the time now. Your mom not so much. Also, it’s rude to interrupt, remember?”
Jett sticks out his bottom lip and hangs his head. “I forgot.”
“That’s okay. Try to remember next time, though, alright?” Jesse leans in and kisses our son’s cheek, which turns that warmth in my belly into butterflies. I hate that I’ve missed out on seeing them like this for so long, but I sure as heck love it now.