“Whatever,” I muttered.
“Let’s get inside,” Tate said brusquely, I looked at him, Mack and Carrie looked at me but Jonas led the way and Mack and Carrie followed.
I hung back, caught Tate’s hand and spoke when he looked down at me.
“Is it okay they’re here?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he answered then started to move away but I tugged his hand and he looked back at me.
“They just want to –”
He cut me off. “I know.”
“This is what families do, or, it’s what my family does,” I told him and he turned to me, his hand coming to my neck, his head dipping toward mine.
“Babe, I know,” he repeated firmly.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked, searching his features.
He closed his eyes and his forehead came to mine before he whispered, “I’ll be better once she’s in the ground.”
I nodded my head, my forehead rolling against his and watched his eyes open as he lifted his head from mine. My hand went to his neck too and my thumb swept his clean-shaven jaw as my eyes watched.
“You miss the beard,” he muttered.
“I fell in love with you when you had a beard,” I replied.
Suddenly his arms closed around me tight and, lips at my temple, he said, “Fuck, I love you.”
I gave him a squeeze and whispered, “Me too. Well, I mean, I love you, I don’t mean I love me too,” I blathered stupidly and felt his arms give me a squeeze back as I heard his soft chuckle.
I held him, he held me and then he let me go, took my hand and led me inside.
Mom had clearly taken control for everyone but Jonas had coffee and Mom was at the island, squirting chocolate syrup into a glass at the same time she was stirring it into milk that was so far from the color of milk and so close to the color of chocolate that the milk was in danger of becoming chocolate.
“Mom, what are you doing?” I asked as I hit the island.
“Making Jonas chocolate milk,” Mom answered.
“You can quit putting in chocolate now,” I informed her.
“It’s not quite there,” Mom informed me back.
“It’s there,” I stated.
“Not quite,” she returned.
“Mom,” I warned.
She splodged in a thick, last squirt and announced, “There!”
I rolled my eyes, pulled in breath and when I rolled them back I looked at Jonas. He was grinning at Mom.
“Shit, Laurie!” Mack exclaimed sounding like his mouth was full and I looked at him to see he was eating one of the fudge filled, chocolate cupcakes with chocolate fudge icing I’d made for Jonas the day before.
“Mack!” Carrie snapped. “Don’t help yourself!” But Mack was ignoring Carrie and looking at Jonas.
“Big man, she made you Grandma Grahame’s chocolate fudge cupcakes, awesome,” Mack stated.
“She makes me chocolate chip cookies too,” Jonas shared.
“Awe… some,” Mack reiterated.
“And chocolate pecan pie,” Jonas went on.
“Did I say awesome?” Mack asked.
“And this red cake stuff that’s chocolate too but it’s red,” Jonas continued.
“She must love you, big man,” Mack proclaimed, throwing an arm around Carrie with the hand not holding his cupcake and yanking her close to his side. “Trust me, those are heavy artillery in a Grahame woman’s arsenal.”
Mack had been trying to take Jonas’s mind off the day’s events but his words had an effect even I wouldn’t have guessed and I pretty much knew Jonas liked me. I watched, heck we all watched his body stiffen then it turned to me and his head tilted back so his eyes could lock on mine.
But he didn’t speak, he just stared at me and the look on his face made my heart skip.
“Bub,” Tate called, seeing the look.
“Mom never made me pie,” Jonas told me, I heard Mack mutter an expletive under his breath but I crouched down and lifted an arm to Jonas.
“Come here, baby,” I urged.
“She never made me cookies,” Jonas said.
“That’s all right, come here,” I repeated.
“She never made me a cake, not once, even on my birthday. She’d buy ‘em,” Jonas went on.
“Honey,” I whispered, “please, come here.”
“You make me that stuff,” he told me something I already knew.
“I know,” I replied.
“You make me that stuff because you love me?” he asked.
“Yes, Bub, of course,” I answered.
“You love me,” he whispered.
“Yes, Bub,” I whispered back.
“Does that mean she didn’t love me?” he asked and tears instantly filled my eyes.
“No,” I answered firmly.
“Do you…” he swallowed. “Do you know I love you?”
I swallowed too and lied, “Yes,” because I didn’t know until just then.
“Do you think she knew I loved her?” he asked.
“Absolutely, baby,” I whispered. “She knew. She definitely knew.”
He didn’t move, but his throat did and I knew he was fighting back tears.