Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(68)

Lorraine had bought a tiny Christmas tree at the store that she set up on a shelf that ran along the bay window in her living room. The tree was plastic and already came decorated with lights.

“I suddenly felt like having one,” she said as she plugged it in and turned it on.

Her obvious joy at having Jonah here for Christmas, despite the reason why, made me smile, but I wished he would give Lorraine a hug or at least say something to let her know that he was happy to see her too.

He’d been so open and affectionate with me that I knew he had a soft side; he just wasn’t ready to show it to her. It was hard to see how much she wanted that from him, even though a smile covered her disappointment. I would have given anything to have my own mother here, or even my father. The fact that Jonah and Lorraine had each other but couldn’t make a connection was frustrating to witness.

With the tree set up, Lorraine moved into the kitchen to put away her groceries, including a huge turkey she intended to roast for tomorrow.

“I know you like to cook, Candy. Your father told me. If you’d like to help me or make something on your own, my kitchen is yours.”

I smiled and thanked her, even though I wasn’t feeling very inspired when it came to cooking, especially since I didn’t know if I would ever see my mother’s recipe book again.

“Since I’m not a size four misses, looks like this is yours,” Jonah said, walking into the kitchen and handing me a plastic bag from Walmart.

“I took a guess at your size,” Lorraine said, looking hopeful.

“Thanks. That should fit.” I glanced at the leggings, sweater, and underthings she’d bought. There was also a toothbrush and a pair of flannel pajamas.

“You both still look exhausted. Did you get any rest while I was out?”

I blushed, recalling how we’d occupied ourselves, as Jonah smirked at me while shaking his head to answer his mother’s question.

Lorraine’s gaze swung between the two of us. “I see,” she said under her breath, and I wondered if she liked the idea of Jonah and me together. I was pretty sure my father wouldn’t like it. The last time I saw him, Jonah wasn’t his favorite person. Jonah wasn’t mine then either, although that was changing.

While Lorraine started on dinner, insisting after we told her not to trouble herself, I wandered into the office where Pumpkin had been spending his time. He trotted over to me, wanting to be picked up. Standing over by the window was Jonah, frowning at his phone.

“Everything okay?”

He glanced up and quickly schooled his face into a benign smile.

“What is it?” I asked, my flat tone letting him know that I didn’t believe his smile for a second.

His shoulders fell as he held up his phone, the screen dark. “I hate being so out of touch. It’s driving me crazy not knowing what’s going on.”

Jonah shook his head and put his phone away. With the fake smile gone, he looked pensive and worried.

“We haven’t talked about what happens next,” I said, finally voicing what had been on my mind all day. “We can’t hide here forever.”

He approached me and ran his hand over Pumpkin’s head. “I’m working on it.”

“Working on what exactly?”

“I’m still working it out.” His expression asked for my understanding, and since the situation was far beyond my control, I decided to give it to him.

“My mother was right,” he said, catching some of my hair and pushing it behind my ear. “We’re both exhausted. Let’s eat and get some sleep. Tomorrow’s Christmas. Maybe Santa will bring you something special.”

“I already have size-four leggings in bright pink with purple rhinestones on the ankle. What more could I want?”

He winced. “Yeah, I saw those in the shopping bag. She meant well.”

“I know, and I’ll wear them as long as I don’t have to leave the house. By the way, I’m glad you get to spend Christmas with your mother.”

Jonah smiled at first before something heavy filled his gaze. Wrapping his arms around me, he said, “If I could give that same thing to you, I would.”

Somehow, he knew what I was thinking, and I brought my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. I liked it when he squeezed me tighter, even though I didn’t understand his feelings for me. I’d done nothing to earn his love, and a part of me didn’t feel worthy of it.

“Why do you want to be with me?” I asked, leaning back to look at him. “I’m sarcastic and spiteful. I’ve been terrible to you so many times.”

He smiled down at me. “Because despite what you put out there for the rest of the world to see, I know you.” He touched his finger to my chest, right where my heart was. “I know what’s in here.”

Overwhelmed, I swallowed, wondering if the emotions blooming in my chest beneath his touch were the same ones he was talking about.

“Remember what you said to me this afternoon about not realizing how the girls at school try to get my attention? You’re no different. Do you have any idea how many guys came up to me in school and asked if we were together because they wanted to make a play for you themselves? I told each and every one of them to stay the hell away from you. Before I ever touched you, I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you. The moment I saw you, I knew you were trouble. The moment after that, I decided I liked trouble.”