grabbing my things from the office, and making a quick stop at the store, I was finally pulling up at home to find that there wasn’t a rental car parked anywhere on the street.
Grandpa Gus’s Camry was in the driveway. Peter was still at Maio House like usual. He didn’t get back home until nine on Thursdays.
I got out of my car, fighting back the flare of disappointment that Jonah wasn’t around, grabbed my backpack on the way out, and opened the door in the kitchen, straining my freaking ears to listen to what could be going on. The second I had it open, I found Jonah and Grandpa both standing at the stove, with Jonah stirring something, my grandpa watching him. Mo was sitting on the floor, a toy in each hand, apparently the only one who heard me open it because her gaze was instantly on me, shouting out with glee, “Ma!”
“Hey, booger,” I called out, swinging the door fully open and heading straight for that little body.
She babbled, really excited and animated, as I picked her up, going straight for that baby neck as she pulled at my hair like it wasn’t tied up in a ponytail.
“Your day was that good? What else happened?” I asked her, eating up the baby sounds coming out of her and how good she smelled and putting one baby fat wrist in my mouth and pretending to munch on it. “Oh my God, I can’t believe your poopy-face Grandpa did all that with you. Wow.”
“Are you going to give poopy-face Grandpa a hug or am I going to die before I get one?”
I groaned as I turned with Mo toward the stove where the two men were, but instead of looking at whatever was being cooked in the pot, they were watching us.
“Yeah, poopy face,” I said before going toward them, shifting her to one hip and giving Grandpa Gus, who was the closest, a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek, getting one back in return.
There was no hesitation in me before I let go of him and went for Jonah, wrapping an arm around his waist, surprising him if the way he tensed at the contact meant anything.
But just as quickly as he tensed up, he relaxed and put one arm around the middle of my back, his mouth being the one that dropped to my cheek—the corner of my mouth, really—before mine did that to his.
When he moved his face to Mo’s and kissed her too, I tried not to let my heart do anything.
I failed.
That pink mouth touching that soft face….
Yup. I was gone. This was over.
I had thought about it the entire drive home. I loved him, there was no arguing it. It worried me, sure. I wished that I didn’t, of course.
But I did.
And I was 90 percent sure he liked me a lot. Enough to get jealous over Noah. Enough for him to come spy on me.
To come here.
I didn’t need much more than that. It was something to work with. Not that I knew what the fuck I was doing or what the fuck we could do or even what the fuck was going to happen sooner than later when he had to get back to work.
But I wasn’t scared, and I sure wasn’t about to give up on something good because it wasn’t going to be easy, especially not when he didn’t seem to want to give up on me—us—either.
Fucking please.
I had this. I’d been made for this. It was all good.
So when Jonah’s eyes drifted over to me as he pulled away from our girl, I couldn’t help but not make total and complete eye contact with him.
And this fucker, who hadn’t even told me bye because he’d been so aggravated earlier, gave me a tiny and possibly apologetic smile.
I wanted to punch him in the stomach and kiss him at the same time. That sounded about right. Sounded great, actually.
“Hi,” he said in that soft voice that I was a total sucker for, even now, when I should probably be mad but wasn’t. Not even a little bit.
“Hey,” I told him, keeping my face straight. “Is Grandpa teaching you to make poison?”
Gramps snorted from behind.
“I’m showing Jonah”—the fact he even called him that surprised me, but I kept that to myself—“how to make Mo’s food.”
Jonah sucked in a breath. His eyes widening, and he temporarily forgot he was annoyed because he mouthed, Did he call me Jonah?