Be with Me (Wait for You #2)(115)

“I’m happy to hear that.” Her strong arms went around me, and she nearly squeezed the air out of me. “When Jase told me what—-” She glanced over to where Jack was rolling dough into balls. She lowered her voice. “I don’t want the little one to overhear, but I’m glad you’re okay and that—-”her voice dropped low—-“crazy son of a bitch is in jail.”

My lips twitched. “Me too.”

Mrs. Winstead shook her head sadly as she watched Jack plop a ball of batter onto a cookie sheet. “Just that poor girl . . .”

“I know.” I bit down on my lower lip. “I keep telling myself that at least there’s justice for Debbie now.”

Jack looked over his shoulder, a frown of curiosity on his cute face. “What’s justice?”

“When bad -people have their comeuppance, baby. And that’s the good thing.” Mrs. Winstead smiled at me, and the lines around her eyes deepened. Her voice lowered again. “But that . . . that’s not all.”

Placing her hand on my shoulder, her chest rose with a deep, heavy breath. “I’m glad that you know—-that Jase told you.”

I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was nod, and Mrs. Winstead’s smile spread as Jack snuck a piece of dough. “Jase used to do that as a little boy too,” she said, blinking rapidly. “He ate more dough raw than he did cooked.”

“That’s when it’s at its best.” My voice was surprisingly hoarse.

She patted my shoulder. “You’re good for my boy, so damn good. He hasn’t gotten close to anyone since Kari, and you’ve gotten him to open up that heart of his. I know we haven’t had a chance to really get to know each other, but for that, you’ll always be like a daughter to me.”

Oh dear, I was going to cry.

Blinking back tears, I smiled and then I laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cry.”

Jack was turned around again. “Why you sad?”

“I’m not sad,” I quickly told him, smiling for his benefit. “I’m happy, really happy.”

He took my word for it and went back to the cookie dough. I wiped at my eyes and pulled myself together. “Thank you. That means a lot to me, and I would never jeopardize him,” I said, nodding at Jack’s back. “Or Jase’s heart.”

“That’s my girl.” Her eyes turned misty, and she cleared her throat. “Now, look at me. I’m about to start shedding tears, and that ain’t gonna do us any good, not when my boy is coming right in here.”

“Hey, Mom.” Jase strode across the cluttered but homey kitchen, leaned in, and kissed his mother’s cheek. As he pulled back and glanced between us, he frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is good,” I said, smacking my hands together. “Jack is pretty busy over there.”

He glanced over at him quickly, before eyeing both of us closely. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, hon. Us gals were just chatting. All good things.” Mrs. Winstead turned, opened the oven door, and peeked in. “These are almost done.”

Appeased, Jase went over to where Jack was and snuck a ball of dough off the cookie sheet.

“Hey!” Jack giggled as Jase popped the whole thing in his mouth.

Kissing his little boy’s cheek, Jase then pivoted around, coming up behind me from around the kitchen table. He slipped his arms around my waist and hooked his hands together. “Can I steal her away now? Want to show her the tree.”

Mrs. Winstead winked at me.“Only if she wants to be stolen by you.”

“Oh, she wants to be stolen by me,” Jase replied, and I smacked his arm. He laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

His mom shook her head as Jase spun around. Moving his arm to my shoulder, he led me back through the dining room. His father was no longer in the hall, and the large living room was empty.

The Christmas tree was huge and real and reminded me of home. Full of different and mismatched bulbs, the lights blinked every few seconds. Stockings hung above the fireplace.

“Look at this.” Stretching forward, he unhooked a red stocking and held it up. “What do you think?”

“Oh!” The stocking had my name on it, written in red glitter. “That’s mine? Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Jase laughed, hooking it back up. “Jack made it for you this morning.”

I don’t know what it was about the stocking with my name on it, but it made my heart swell like the Grinch’s had done. I thought it might burst.

“You like it?” he asked, sitting down on the floor with his back against the couch. Tugging on my hand, he waited until I sat. “I’m thinking you love it.”

“I do.” I laughed and then swiped at my face again. “I swear. I’m an emotional baby.” Lowering my hands, I let my gaze wonder over his striking face. “I really do love it.”

“I wonder what Santa will put in your stocking.” The way he said it made me think of dirty things. “And under your tree.”

I lifted a shoulder and then put my hands on the hardwood floor. Leaning forward, I kissed his lips. “I already have everything I want for Christmas.”

“Mmm.” His hands settled on my hips and he swept his lips over mine. “I don’t,” he murmured. “Because I’m greedy, I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning. That’s what I want.”