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Jagged

Page 82

   


And his mouth was smiling.
I smiled back and then turned my attention to dumping stuff that was not good for anyone into bowls in order to replenish the generous but swiftly disappearing food supply.
“Are all these people really my mom’s friends?”
These words were asked by Zander but his voice was quiet and strange.
I looked down to him to see the eggs done, the pastry bag still in his hand, but he was looking over the bar into the house that was a crush of people, rock music on low drowned out by happy chatter with spurts of laughter.
“Yep,” I answered.
“She knew a lot of people,” Zander noted and I again got close to him but not too close.
Conversationally, I said, “Yeah, she did. She knew a lot of people but these aren’t just people she knew. These are her friends.”
He set the pastry bag aside, tipped his head to look up at me, and remarked, “She had a lot of friends.”
I went down in a mini-crouch so we could be eye-to-eye and told him, “Your mom was funny. She liked people and showed it. She was generous and she’d do just about anything for anybody. And people liked her because of all that. If you’re like that, you get a lot of friends and that’s what she did.”
Suddenly, his face changed again, definitely uncertainty and something I didn’t get until he spoke.
“I’m scared to go out there,” he whispered.
Surprised at this admission, I asked, “Why?”
“Because they liked her so much. What if they don’t like me?”
My heart squeezed and it dawned on me why, since Aunt Wilona and Zander arrived half an hour ago, he’d stuck to her or me like glue.
He was nervous and he wanted his mom’s friends to like him.
Carefully, I asked, “Why wouldn’t you think they would like you?”
“’Cause you said I’m not like her. They’ll be expectin’ me to be like her.”
I shook my head even as I smiled.
“You don’t look like her,” I clarified. “But you told me you have a ton of friends. You’re funny. You’re open.” I got closer and dipped my voice low. “As far as I can see, you’re just like her.”
When his eyes lit with hope, my heart squeezed again and I lifted a hand to curl my fingers around the side of his neck. Feeling the warmth of his skin, his pulse beating against my palm, for some reason I fell in love with him more just because he was so… very… real.
“You go out there, they’ll love you,” I promised. “But I’ll stick close anyway.”
He tipped his head to the side but did it careful not to break contact with my hand.
Yes, he didn’t mind affection from me and, knowing that, I sent my thanks to the heavens.
“You sure?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Okay,” he murmured.
I gave him a grin and a squeeze and left it at that, even though I wanted to kiss his hair again. I’d had enough for now and I didn’t want to push it.
I straightened and I did it just in time to hear the loud thud of a motorcycle helmet hitting the countertop.
Both Zander and I turned our eyes to Ham, who was now standing with us in the kitchen but his eyes were on Zander. Ham had gone to Carnal to buy Zander the helmet just the day before.
“Try that on for size, kid,” he invited.
Zander’s head whipped to the helmet, then back to Ham.
“No way!” he yelled.
“Way,” Ham replied.
“This is so cool!” Zander shouted.
His hands darted out to the helmet and my heart didn’t squeeze at Ham’s actions.
It warmed.
So I gave him a huge smile.
Ham’s eyes took in my mouth and his lips twitched.
Zander pulled the helmet on then tipped his head back to Ham. Lifting his hand to the kick-ass visor, he pushed it up.
“Does it fit?” he asked.
Ham crouched in front of Zander, put his hands to the helmet, moved Zander’s head around, checked for snugness, then gave the top of the helmet a mild smack before he answered, “Yep.”
“Cool,” Zander breathed.
“We got good weather, kid. You want a ride?”
“Really?” Zander asked, rocking up to his toes in excitement.
“Sure,” Ham replied.
“Totally!” he shouted but then dashed around Ham, still yelling, “Nona! Nona! Look what Uncle Reece got me!” He gestured to the helmet. “He’s takin’ me for a ride!”
Aunt Wilona’s head whipped around at Zander’s shouting. She spied the helmet, her face went straight to alarmed before she smoothed it out and forced a smile at Zander.
“I’ll have a word,” Ham murmured to me. “Put her at ease. We’ll go easy.”
“Okay, darlin’,” I murmured back.
Ham moved in, touched his mouth to mine, and, when he lifted up, I smiled at him again.
This time Ham gifted me with a smile back.
Then he moved out of the kitchen and toward Zander and Aunt Wilona.
I put the devilled eggs and bowls of snacks out and me and a variety of other people followed Ham, Zander, and Aunt Wilona out the front door. We stood in a group and watched Ham throw a leg over his vintage Harley that he’d obviously moved out of the garage for this purpose earlier and unbeknownst to me. Then we watched him instruct Zander how to get on behind him.
I got close, as did Aunt Wilona, and when we did, we heard Ham order, “You hold on to me tight and don’t let go for any reason. You with me?”
“Yeah, Uncle Reece,” Zander agreed instantly, wrapping his arms around Ham’s middle.
My belly fluttered and I got a little tingle between my legs.
Ham’s eyes came to me, and my physical reactions must have shown on my face because his eyes got dark and then he grinned a sexy grin.
That got me another tingle between my legs.
Two seconds later, the bike roared, they took off, and, even over the roar, we could hear Zander’s shout of glee.
“Dear God, save me,” Aunt Wilona muttered.
I burst out laughing and for the first time in my life, touched my aunt in affection of my own accord.
I reached out and slid my arm around my aunt’s shoulders, pulling her close.
“It’ll be good,” I assured her.
“I hope so,” she said to me, eyes pinned to where we last saw Ham and Zander.
My voice was firm when I stated, “Zander means everything to me. I mean everything to Ham. And anyway, Ham thinks Zander is the bomb. He’d never let anything harm him.”