Because I knew what dealing with a drama queen was like. At least what it was like for me. Because Grandpa Gus was too much, but I thought it was hilarious and it always amused the hell out of me. Not once had he embarrassed me with how over the top he could be. I had never dreaded it. But based on the look that Jonah was sporting, it didn’t seem like that was the same in this case.
And why didn’t she know where he was? Or why hadn’t he answered her calls? Why didn’t his phone ever ring?
And also, who the fuck flew all the way from what may or may not have been New Zealand on a whim?
I needed to figure this shit out. And also make sure that Sarah, Mrs. Collins, didn’t upset her son too much, because I liked him happy and easygoing. I dealt with enough drama and egos; she wasn’t taking this away from me. At least not if I had anything to say about it.
Jonah waited by my side as I placed my order on the screen to avoid the line, and I didn’t say a word when he batted my elbow away when I started to pull my little wallet out of my back pocket and paid.
He wasn’t hurting for money. Plus, I’d carried giant-ass Mo around inside of me for nine months and four days. It wasn’t my fault Jonah had passed along his size-gigantean genes to her, regardless of what he said about being a skinny little turd back in the day. If he wanted to pay for my food, I wasn’t going to stop him.
Jonah’s hand landed on my lower back with the gentlest of pressure after I filled my drink, steering me toward the corner of the restaurant. I couldn’t help but notice all the men and women who stared at him as we passed by, also noticing that he didn’t pay them any attention. It was like he didn’t see he was the object of any attention.
When I snickered, he glanced at me and tipped his chin up, asking what that noise was for.
I smirked. “Five bucks says someone comes over and gets you confused with a football player.”
He didn’t break his stride as he wrinkled his nose. “American football?”
Reaching over his shoulder, I touched my fingers to the little hand Mo had on his neck, just to get a little taste, and snorted. “If I need to offend you in the future, I know how now. Thanks.”
He faced forward again, shaking his head as he did so, confirming my suspicion that he really was offended by that idea. “Nothing against American football players, but….”
The fact he trailed off said everything, and it just made me snort, catching sight of another person in the restaurant gazing at Jonah like he was trying to figure out where he had seen him before. “Well, if it matters any, I think rugby is a lot more entertaining than football from what I’ve watched. Not that I really know much about it still.”
He stopped walking for a second, giving me a view of his mom at a table possibly five feet away, glaring in our direction with eyes that honestly reminded me a little too much of Grandpa Gus when he was being a shit. Ha.
“American football,” he corrected me.
“American football,” I conceded. “Smart-ass.”
The smile he gave me was one of the smaller ones, and I wondered again what the hell was up his mom’s ass to make him so hesitant. He wasn’t even this bad when he’d first shown up to talk to me, I was pretty sure.
With one last lingering look I wasn’t going to overanalyze, he turned that enormously muscular body forward again and cut the rest of the distance that separated us from his mom and his sister, who was busy hunched over her cell phone, tapping away at the screen. To give Mrs. Collins credit, she stood up, her eyes going wide, and even her mouth opened. I was pretty sure she gasped.
And I was definitely sure that her eyes went glassy instantly as Jonah stopped to the side of the wall where she had been seated at a bench and held Mo up even higher on his chest as he said in that ridiculous, lovely voice, “Mum, this is Mo.” He did that thing where he lowered his forehead until it rested against the much smaller one—her