More tears. More sniffles. More dry throat.
“Yeah, Papa. Thanks. I will. I promise.”
“Okay. Now, your dad is going to be pissed he missed you today, so call him tomorrow and give him some Izzy goodness.”
“I will. I love you. Tell Dad I love and miss him, too.”
“You got it. Bye for now.”
“Bye for now,” I repeated.
I took a deep breath and let it out along with a hundred pounds of tension that was sitting on my chest.
I was entitled to my feelings. And as much as I could fall into a well of unhappiness at the choices my biological mother had made, it wouldn’t change the outcome.
Yesterday was in the past.
Today was the present and I needed to treat it as the gift it was.
It was also the day we would see the candy shop with the property manager, and that was exciting. Hauling my body out of the seriously comfy bed, I looked in the mirror over the vanity.
Wild, red bedhead curls fell down over my shoulders to the middle of my back. Pearlescent skin the same as my father Casey. Bright hazel eyes that looked even more green due to my tears. A smallish button nose. Almond-shaped eyes with thick, rust-colored lashes. A smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks that I thought looked attractive even though a lot of women tried to cover them up. My skin rocked and always had. My dad taught me to protect my skin as though we were at war with the sun and I followed that advice faithfully. My lips were a good size, very pink and cherublike. At least that was what I’ve always been told by the guys I dated. Though my body...yeah, curves for days.
I turned from side to side checking myself out. Nipped-in waist, wide hips and large boobs. I felt like I had more boobage than Evie and Suda Kaye put together. Though I’d never had a single complaint from the men I took to bed. My stomach wasn’t exactly flat—rounded but not overly so. Unless I wanted to work out like a demon—because I’d have to in order to look anything like what society thought was toned and fit—and never eat my desserts—which I lived for—I had to accept what the good Lord gave me. And until I stood next to my gorgeous sisters, I’d never doubted myself. Never found myself lacking. Just comfortable in my own skin.
Again, I looked at myself, this time with a shrewd eye, trying to see what Kyson saw. All in all, I liked what I saw, was comfortable with my body. If a man wanted to be with me, a chef, a baker, he’d need to like a woman with some cushion for pushin’ as Jasper always said. He, too, wanted a man with meat on him, even though he was super trim with a naturally athletic body. He had a four-pack and didn’t even work for it. The bastard.
I hummed to myself, whipped off my pajamas and set my outfit for the day on the bed. Jeans, check. Tank, check. Flip-flops, check.
I grabbed my robe and put it on so I could hit the hall bathroom and get my shower out of the way before I made breakfast for Evie and Milo again. This time I was thinking a fancy French toast with powdered sugar, hot maple syrup and a special hot fruit drizzle.
After showering, I left my hair to air dry and moseyed back to my room. On the bed was a completely different outfit than what I had laid out. Seemed I had a dressing gnome sneak into my room, assess my outfit and declare it unworthy.
I strained to hear the sounds coming from the house. In the distance I heard some pots and pans clanking. I shook my head.
Jasper.
I removed my robe and dug through my suitcase for a pair of panties and bra. Matching, of course. Lacy and sexy as all get-out. It was the one thing I spent any money on clothing-wise. I learned it from Jasper’s mom Penelope. She had always been the motherly type figure in my life. Teaching me and Jasper how to paint our nails, take care of our faces. She even helped me out with the whole womanhood and puberty issue. But the one thing she said every woman should do for herself was fill their drawers with pretty underthings. Penelope believed that it made every woman feel sassy, sexy and feminine.
I’d taken this advice and invested in beautiful underwear. Her advice worked. Each day when I donned my undergarments, I felt pretty and liked knowing I had something beautiful and sexy hidden away, only to be seen by me, unless I invited a suitor to see them.
Once I got the pale peach matching set on, I evaluated what Jasper had picked out for me today. A darker pair of wide-legged jeans. A belt made of multicolored pieces of interwoven leather that we’d picked up at Gypsy Soul. My tall wedge sandals that did actually go really well with the jeans. And a flirty white blouse that had ruffles at the short-capped sleeves. Next to the shirt lay a slew of gold-and-silver bangles and a pair of gold-and-silver chandelier earrings. He even added a huge statement necklace of twisted silver-and-gold vines that turned into leaves that I would have never thought to pair with this blouse, but looking at it then...it rocked.
Evil genius.
Quickly, I got dressed and made my way downstairs where Jasper was washing fresh fruit. He eyed me from top to toe. “Beautiful as ever.”
My lips quirked. “Mmm-hmm. I was thinking of making our fancy French toast today. What do you say?”
His eyes lit up. “Perfect. I’ll just cut these up and start heating them.” He gestured to the strawberries and blackberries we’d picked up yesterday.
“I’ll get the egg wash going.”
For the next thirty minutes we worked side by side, a familiar dance we had perfected over the years, especially when working in a kitchen together. We complemented one another so well, instinctively knowing what the other was best at, being each other’s sous-chef on different things, filling in for the other, handing one another the appropriate utensils and spices when needed.
“What do you think about doing a color theme of coral, peach and cream for our bakery?” he asked while stirring the fruit and sugar over a low flame.
“Add in some gold touches and I think it’s brilliant.”
“Oooh, gold touches would be so extra and elegant! I can already see the colors weaving together.”
I grinned. “What do you think about Sweet and Sassy for the name?” I added while pouring the vanilla into the egg mix.
He curled his lip to the side. “Sounds like a clothing store.”
“Hmm, true. Sweet and Salty?”
“That has merit.” He nodded but didn’t seem excited. We both needed to be excited about the name of our bakery.
“The Sweet Life?” I offered while adding in salt, cinnamon and a touch of nutmeg.
“Too much like that sitcom with those dudes Zack and Cody.”
“Ah, right. Hmm,” I said, heating up the griddle.
As I was soaking the thick slices of French bread Jasper had already cut, and laying them out on the griddle, Evie entered the kitchen. This time in an ethereal royal blue satin robe. Her hair down around her shoulders. Her eyes were a stunning bright sky blue due to the reflection off her robe, making her seem more like a queen entering her throne room, rather than my big sister coming down for breakfast made by her houseguests.