Page 119 of The Convict Gets His Girl

He grinned and nodded his head. "I took the day off work and picked up Destini. Had to borrow Gunner's SUV to fit all her stuff, but we got it all!"

Jewel gasped and raced inside. Destini and Chase sat on the couch, facing each other and laughing, Chase wincing with a hand on his ribs.

Destini saw Jewel and jumped up, racing over and throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. "Mom, you're home! Surprise!"

Jewel's throat choked up as tears fell down her cheeks. She hugged her baby tight, not so little anymore. They were finally together again, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. No more secrets, no more arguments, no more hiding. This was a new era for them all, Chase included.

"I can't believe you're here. I was going to come get you this weekend."

Destini pulled back, her wide grin splitting her face as she beamed at her. "I know, but when I saw his face, I had to come early and help."

"But what about school, all the paperwork?—"

Parker stopped and leaned against the door frame. "Crimson Creek High can submit all the transfer paperwork. It's not a big deal, especially this time of year."

Jewel hugged Destini again, saying a silent thank you to Parker over her shoulder. He nodded his head, then ducked back outside to haul another box up to her room.

Raul followed Parker when he left, and Jewel pulled out Lola's casserole. When they sat down at the familiar kitchen table she'd had in her storage container, tears pricked her eyes to see Chase and Destini talking about their favorite movies.

This was all she'd ever hoped for, better than any dream she'd never dared to imagine. This sense of family, of belonging. Chase caught her staring and winked before turning back to their daughter.

Jewel got a call from Gemma about a patient, so she stepped into the study to talk and check something in the computer system. When she came back to the kitchen, she leaned against the door frame, watching the practiced dance of dishes and conversation unfold. Destini moved through the kitchen with the smooth efficiency of someone who had been doing chores her entire life, her hands sliding plates into the dishwasher with a rhythmic precision that spoke of years of routine.

"So we always rotate cleaning duties," Destini explained to Chase, her hands painting animated pictures in the air. "I do dishes three nights a week, and Mom does the other nights. Well, we used to," she corrected herself, a flicker of something—anxiety, adjustment, hope—passing across her face.

Chase nodded, wincing slightly as he shifted in his chair. Jewel noticed how he tried to hide the movement, not wanting to draw attention to his still-healing body.

His smile remained constant, warm and genuine, as he talked with her. "I work from home on the computer, but don't like to sit still all day. I can do the dishes, but there are certain times of the year that are my busy seasons, if this year is anything to go off of. Maybe we can rotate during those times."

Destini breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good, that you have a job. Some kids at my school were asking the other day, and I had no idea what to tell them."

Chase winced. "I do bookkeeping and just passed my big exam to be a certified financial planner. My next step is to become a wealth manager, so I can put you through college."

Jewel frowned, not realizing he'd gotten his results on the test yet. He hadn't said a word, so she'd thought he was still waiting. This was an enormous accomplishment that should be celebrated.

Destini's jaw dropped as she paused, hand in the silverware drawer. "You—you've thought about that?"

He nodded and rubbed his side. "Of course. You're my daughter, and I'm going to take care of you."

Jewel's chest ached at his words, the sincerity and love in them.

Destini spun on her heel, bending to take something else out from the dishwasher. But from where she stood in the doorway, Jewel noticed her wiping her cheek.

Jewel's chest tightened, realizing that she'd taught Destini to ignore comments like that instead of acknowledging them and how they made her feel. Fuck, maybe Chase wasn't the only one who needed therapy in this family.

Chase continued, oblivious to Destini's discomfort. "The new school has an amazing science program. Did you ask Parker questions about it on the drive?"

Destini lit up, her excitement palpable and filling the kitchen with a vibrant energy.

Jewel watched, her heart catching on the delicate threads of this new family configuration. They were learning each other—their rhythms, their wounds, their hopes. Destini's hands kept moving, Chase kept listening, and the kitchen hummed with the quiet miracle of connection.

With the dishwasher now full and set to wash, Destini paused, looking lost, like she didn't want the conversation to end. Jewel knew how she felt. That was how she felt around Chase too.

Jewel straightened from the door. "Alright, let's see about unpacking your boxes."

Destini nodded, but deflated, as if she didn't want to be out of his presence. This felt right, natural, like it had always been meant to be like this.

Chase said, "Not all those boxes were clothes. When I was unloading your mom's storage container last week, I saw a few boxes already opened with trophies, which I put in the room you picked out. I'd love for you to tell me about them. I want to know everything."

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