Page 13 of The Jilted Lovers Club
“Pretty good, huh?”
“This is milk?”
Bec laughs, nodding. “Tastes way different than at the store, huh?” She pulls a plate from the cabinet, then the pan off the dish rack. “Can I make you some breakfast? We all ate a few hours ago, but you’re probably starving. I could make you some eggs and bacon, some hash browns, some…”
She trails off, probably noticing the green tinge to my expression. Yes, I’m starving. The little bit I ate last night was lost on the restaurant floor, and it’s now nearing noon. That means it’s been about twenty-four hours since my last decent meal.
But eating something? I can’t stomach anything right now.
“That probably sounds terrible,” Bec tuts, and I nod.
“I’m sorry. Any other day and that would be amazing, but right now, I think I just need water and nothing else.”
“Darling, you need more than water. If you don’t get something in you, you’re just going to feel sick the rest of the day. Do you trust me?”
I do not know this woman. But I nod anyway, because yes, I trust her. I’ve known her all of ten minutes, and she’s already the motherliest woman I know. Of course, my own mom doesn’t have a motherly bone in her body, so this isn’t exactly a fair assessment. But Bec is made of mom material. She’s housing me in her home, a total stranger. She’s feeding me. She trusts me around her granddaughter, even if I don’t trust myself.
Still, it doesn’t stop my curiosity about the girl—partly because she’s Ashton’s daughter, but also because my horroraround kids is a like train wreck. They terrify me, and I also can’t focus on anything else when they’re around.
“Is Lottie her full name? Or is short for something?” I ask.
“Charlotte Rebecca Felix. Named after my mother, who was also named Charlotte, and me. Though I’m pretty sure Sasha was actually naming her after that sweet spider inCharlotte’s Web. She used to love that book when she was little, and made me read it to her every night.”
Sasha. This must be Lottie’ mother. Bec’s daughter, maybe?
“Does Sasha read it to Lottie now?”
Bec’s smile freezes. She turns quickly back to the counter where she’s preparing food, but not before I see her smile drop.
“No, but I do. This girl loves to be read to. She just turned two over the summer, and she got piles of books from her Papa and me. She makes me read her exactly three books before every nap. Any less, and she throws a fit. Maybe it’s the reading, or maybe because she’s this big two-year-old now, but it’s like this little light bulb went off. She’s growing like a weed and trying out new words. But mostly she just babbles at us and expects us to understand. Which we do sometimes, right sweet girl?”
Lottie looks up, and it’s apparent that “Sweet Girl” is as familiar a name to her as her own given name.
“You are obviously so proud of her.”
Bec blushes, waving her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m gushing too much, aren’t I? She’s our first grandbaby, and we just love her to pieces. We’re so lucky that Ashton has remained close with our family and lets us be such a huge part of her life.”
She doesn’t have to say it, but it confirms what I’ve started to suspect.
Sasha is not part of the picture anymore.
Ashton tromps through the front door at that moment, followed by an older man with a large grey mustache and a wide-brimmed hat, both of them covered head to toe in dirt as ifthey’ve rolled in mud. The dirt doesn’t distract me from Ashton, however. I hold my breath as my eyes take him in, dazzled by his grin as he goes straight for Lottie. Goddamn, that man is gorgeous. He’s wearing a flannel shirt, rolled up to reveal dark forearms, one of which sports a black and white lion tattoo. Even with the shirt on, I can’t get over the size of his arms, the way his muscles strain against the fabric, the broadness of his shoulders as if he were a football player instead of a farmer working the field. He is so beautiful, I have to tear my eyes away. Even then, I’m overwhelmed by his scent—a mixture of intoxicating, woody sweat mingling with the smell of grass and gasoline—all testosterone and male—leaving me breathless.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Bob, this is Jordy,” Bec says, interrupting my inner turmoil as she introduces her husband. I look up, hoping my smile hides the fact that I cannot breathe while Ashton is in the room.
“Ma’am,” the older man says, nodding his head before kissing Bec on the cheek. She leans away from him in an effort to not get dirty, even as her eyes crinkle with affection. He gives me another nod, then disappears around the corner towards the bedrooms.
“And you know Ashton,” she continues.
“That might be too familiar a term, but she did throw up on my shoes, so I guess we’re friends now.”
I feel my face burn, but I stay silent as I narrow my eyes at him, even as my heart is still recovering from the way his presence takes up the whole room. The corner of his mouth twitches, and then he winks at me—a move so unexpected that I don’t anticipate the way my heart flutters, or the way I have to avert my eyes to keep from staring at the easy way he smiles at me.Get a grip, Jordy.He’s a stranger in enemy territory. And he has a kid.When I look back, the expression on his face is only more amused.
“I see you survived the night,” he teases. “I thought you could handle your Manhattans, New York.”
“Ha ha.” But I’m mortified, especially as I remember heaving my dinner all over my shoes.
