He’d done the same this morning.
“How about breakfast?”
“You and your breakfasts.” He chuckled and his arms hugged me tighter. His smile tickled my shoulder. “I wouldn’t say no to your french toast.”
“Perfect.” I’d brought over a huge haul of groceries yesterday and had an extra loaf of bread just in case that was his choice. “I hope Ryder likes french toast.”
“I’m sure he will. That kid seems to eat just about anything. Makes me wonder how often he got regular meals.”
I sighed. “I was thinking the exact same thing last night.”
We’d gone out to dinner at Bob’s Diner for Jackson’s birthday and all ordered a double cheeseburger. Even I had trouble eating an entire one.
Ryder had inhaled two.
“I’ll give it to the kid.” Jackson sighed. “He’s taking this in stride.”
I nodded. “He sure is.”
Ryder had been closed off at first. As we all buzzed around him, frantically setting him up in his new life, he’d stood by and watched with few words. But after a couple of days, he’d begun to relax.
As Hazel set up his room, he’d pitched in, moving furniture as she gave direction. He’d found a new friend in Charlie. Thea had taken them both shopping for school clothes and since Charlie preferred boy clothes to girl, they’d bought matching shirts.
And with me, he’d become my right-hand man.
When I went to the grocery store, he came along and pushed the cart. When I had to stop by the camp to ensure everything was okay, he came along too. Ryder had taken one look at my camp and fallen in love, begging me to sneak him into one of the camps next summer.
After just a week, he was laughing and joking with Jackson and me like he’d known us his entire life. The only time he’d clam up was when we asked about his past.
“He won’t talk about your mom.” I’d tried a couple of times to broach the subject, just to see how he was holding up. But Ryder had just frowned and gone quiet. Much like his older brother, he seemed to bottle things up.
“Can you blame him?” Jackson asked.
“No, but I worry he’s holding too much inside.” It had been like pulling teeth just to find out what school he’d gone to so I could call and get his records transferred. “Maybe he’ll talk to you.”
“Maybe,” Jackson muttered.
The sound of clanking pans came from the kitchen, interrupting our conversation. Though I had a feeling it had been over anyway.
When we’d first started dating, Jackson had been so forthcoming about his past. Honestly, it had surprised me that he’d shared so much with me about his childhood on our first date.
But ever since his mother had shown, he’d shut down.
It wasn’t just that he was busy with Ryder either. There was something going on with him. The problem was, I didn’t have any specific examples to confront him about. He was still sweet and sexy and my Jackson. But there was something heavy surrounding him.
When we were having a serious conversation, he’d end it with something short. Maybe. I’ll think about it. We’ll see. They all meant he was done talking, and I’d heard them more in the last week than ever before.
“Ryder must be hungry,” Jackson said as the clanking in the kitchen continued. “It’s been over five hours since he ate so he’s probably on the verge of starvation.”
I smiled. “Then I’d better get started on breakfast.”
Jackson let me go and I slipped from his bed and into the en-suite bathroom.
As I brushed my teeth, I studied the room. It was outdated, much like the rest of Jackson’s house. The laminate counters and vinyl floor were clean but had been well used. This home had been built in the seventies and was full of wood paneling in the bedrooms and living areas, making the entire place seem like a man cave.
Still, I loved being here in Jackson’s space. This house had such potential to be a bright and happy home. The bathroom could be easily updated with lighter colors and newer finishes. The living areas just needed to be refreshed. And with new cabinets and countertops, the kitchen had the potential to be a dream.
I finished with my teeth and went back to the bedroom, passing Jackson as he went to the bathroom. As I pulled on some pajama pants, a bra and one of his sweatshirts, I made a mental list of improvements for his room.
It wouldn’t take much to create the perfect bedroom. The paneling had to go and a bigger closet would be ideal. Visions of me and Jackson waking up here, morning after morning, filled my head. I pictured my clothes in his closet and my books on his nightstand.
I hoped I’d get the chance to update it one day.
When another sound echoed from the kitchen, I gave up my interior design dreaming and walked out of the bedroom and down the short hall to find Ryder studying the stove.
“Good morning,” I greeted as I tied up my hair.
“Hey.” He smiled. “How do you turn this thing on?”
“It’s a gas stove so you have to light the burners.”
“Oh.” He searched the counter, probably looking for matches. “I was going to make some breakfast.”
“How about I do the breakfast?” I went to the stove, taking over his position in front of a frying pan. “Do you want to be my assistant?”
He nodded and we got to work. An hour later, Ryder had learned how to not only light the stove but also make french toast. And the three of us were devouring the biggest batch I’d made in my life.
“Don’t eat that one.” I plucked a mangled piece of french toast from the bottom of the pile before Ryder could grab it.
“Why?” Ryder asked, his mouth full of food.
“It’s all woogidy. I’ll eat it.”
Ryder stopped chewing. “Woogidy?”
Jackson chuckled, taking another two pieces for his own plate. “Willa makes up words.”
“Woogidy.” Ryder grinned. “I like it.”
I shot a so there look at Jackson. “Thanks.”
“So what do you want to do today for your birthday?” Ryder asked his brother.
Jackson winked at me. “I had a request to go fishing before the lake freezes. Figured we could take the boat out today.”
Ryder and I high-fived.
“Cold?” Jackson asked.
My teeth chattered. “I’m okay.”
He frowned and stripped off his thick, canvas coat to drape over my shoulders. The body heat trapped in the flannel lining warmed me instantly.
“What about you?” I asked. “You’ll freeze.”
“I’m good.” He kissed the top of my brown stocking cap.
We were in the middle of Flathead Lake on Jackson’s boat. The sun was shining down on the water. The air was cool and crisp. But the slight breeze wafting over the water had seeped through my jeans, sweater and brown puffer vest. I’d been fine in town, but as Jackson had sped his boat across the water, I’d turned into an icicle.
“I should have worn my snow gear.” And I would have except I’d wanted to look cute on Jackson’s birthday and wear my new Wellington boots.
“Yeah.” Jackson grinned. “Next time dress like Ryder.”
I giggled and looked at Ryder sitting at the back of the boat. His fishing rod was gripped firmly in his gloved hands. He’d even brought along his backpack, full of whatever extra provisions he’d packed inside.
After breakfast, Jackson had told him to get ready and wear warm clothes. Ryder had immediately gone to change, emerging from his room in the snow pants, winter coat and Sorel boots that Thea had bought him earlier in the week. He looked ready for the ski hill, not fishing.
But at least he was warm.
“Do you think we’ll catch anything?” I asked.
Jackson shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I hope we do, but even if we don’t, I’m glad I got to see your boat.”
Jackson’s fishing boat was the nicest one I’d ever seen, larger than any waterskiing boats docked next to it at the marina. The aluminum frame was shiny and I loved the sound of the waves slapping against the hull.