Page 70 of Outlaw Heartstrings
Easton softly strokes my hair. “I’ve got you, Alba. It’ll be okay. I promise.” His voice shakes. “There’s no way Jagger’s not my kid. There’s just no way.”
26
ALBA
Idrag myself through my front door, feet aching after a long day of working two jobs. It was nice being off over the weekend and hanging out with the girls, but now I’m paying for it a few days later, working double to ensure this week’s bills are paid.
On my way here, I was really tempted to use my last few dollars on some lousy takeout to bring home, because I’m just plain exhausted. But as I step inside the house now, I smell something already cooking and I’m quite proud of myself for resisting temptation instead of splurging on fast food.
Kicking off my shoes, I head straight for the kitchen. “Mom,” I call out, “you’re a lifesaver. Thanks so much for starting dinn—”
My footsteps falter when I hear multiple voices, followed by laughter coming from the kitchen.That definitely doesn’t sound like my mom.
I slowly drop my purse on the couch. Then I catch Easton’s voice. My knees instantly go weak.What in the…?
When I step into the kitchen, there he is. Right next toJagger, who’s standing on a chair that’s pushed all the way to the counter.
My nephew glances over his shoulder and spots me.“Hi, Mimi!”
“Uh…hi…” I blink. “Um, are you…?”
Easton turns around, giving me one of his megawatt, dimpled smiles. “Making dinner?” he finishes for me. “Oh, yes, we are.”
I scan the cluttered space, eyeballing the pots and pans and ingredients that cover the countertops.
“Is that aKarli’s Kitchenmeal prep box?” I ask, stepping up beside them.
Easton follows my gaze. “Yeah, she’s the sister of one of my teammates, and she has some healthy meals that actually taste good, so I like to buy from her website sometimes.”
“Wow. I’ve heard a lot of good things about her recipes,” I say. I don’t add that I’ve always wanted to buy one of these fancy meal boxes, but they’re definitely out of my grocery budget.
I’m still staring at this whole unusual scene in confusion. Easton and Jagger, here in the kitchen whipping up a homemade meal, as I arrive home from work. Soft music playing from Easton’s phone. The whole house smelling divine. I really don’t understand what’s going on here.
“But…what are you…?” I glance at Easton.
Thankfully, he seems to be reading my mind. “What am I doing here?” He meets my eyes. Chuckling at my expression, he continues to chop veggies on my cutting board.“Well, my mom invited your mom to go out shopping this evening. Patty wasn’t going to go since she needed a sitter, but I offered to come hang out with Jagger.” Doubt drifts over his features like a cloud. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t consider it until we'd alreadystarted dinner, but I realize now that you might have had other plans. Or some other meal in mind. If so, I can just…” He puts down his knife, already stepping away from the counter.
I hurriedly reach for his hand, ignoring the electricity that ignites between us. “Oh, no. I don’t mind at all. I never have the time for meal planning.” I give a little shrug.
Easton meant it when he said he wouldn’t let the pending paternity issue change the way he treats Jagger. He actually meant it.
He came over bright and early yesterday morning, driving us all to the testing facility at the hospital. He held Jagger’s hand as the nurse swabbed the inside of his cheek, assuring the little boy that this new test was nothing to be worried about. And on the way home, he drove us through the Hot Dog Almighty drive-through to grab an unhealthy late lunch.
Like nothing had changed.
He didn’t ditch us like everyone else has. He said he’d stick around, and for now at least, he’s still here.
I decide, here and now, that I’m sticking to Easton’s plan. I’m trusting the process. So as we wait for the results, I’m choosing to believe that the original DNA test was wrong and the new one will prove what we already know in our hearts—Easton is my nephew’s biological father.
I bring my attention back into the present moment. Jagger looks so happy, grinning from ear to ear. There’s some kind of herb in his hair. And a big smudge of sauce on his nose. But he doesn’t seem to notice, or to care.
My heart squeezes, watching Jagger cook dinner with his father.Who knew this view would make me feel all mushy inside?
“Okay, Mimi.” He looks at the timer on the microwaveand nods. “The meal will be finished in twenty-three minutes. Go get ready for dinner!”
I laugh, loving how excited he seems. “Well, okay then. I’ll go do that, if you’re sure you don’t need any help?” I look to Easton.
“We’ve got this, right, Buddy?” He nudges Jagger with his elbow.
