“Sorry we're a little late,” Fisher says, greeting her with a bottle of wine.
“Not at all. You're right on time,” Momma reassures him.
“There’s two spots for y'all by Noah. I'll open this bottle, and we can say grace.”
I swallow hard as I actively try to keep my focus away from the two unwanted men walking toward me. Jase takes the chair next to me, and Fisher sits next to him on the other side.
Dad and Gramma set dishes of food on the table as Momma uncorks the wine. Silence lingers as my brothers stare at Jase.
“So this ain't awkward or nothin', huh?” he whispers.
“No more than gettin' my first period during gym class in seventh grade.”
He snorts, which grabs Fisher's attention. His eyes meet mine for a split second before I tear my gaze away.
Jase leans over so no one overhears. “I almost didn't come, but my dad insisted. I'm sorry for last weekend. You didn't deserve any of that.”
“You coulda called or texted...” I briefly glance at him.
“I figured ya wouldn't wanna hear from me, but I really am sorry, Noah. I want us to go back to bein' friends again.”
Friends?Does that mean he'snotin love with me, then?
This time, I angle my body toward him and study his sincere expression. I avoid looking at Fisher even though he's close enough to smell his cologne.
“You're gonna have to apologize to my brothers, too,” I remind him.
He winces, furrowing his brows. “They gave me two black eyes!”
Landen clears his throat from across the table, grabbing our attention.
“What?” I mouth.
My parents and Gramma sit, patiently waiting for us so we can pray.
Everyone stays quiet as we say grace, and once it's over, Momma tells us to dig in. At first, there's an awkward silence as dishes get passed around and clink together until Wilder stupidly speaks up.
“Your face healed nicely.”
It's been over a week, so the swelling and bruising have already gone down.
“Yeah, thank goodness. Told my clients I walked into a metal post.”
Landen snorts. “If ya consider my knuckles metal, then sure.”
Dad clears his throat, glaring at Landen.
“What? I'm just sayin'.” He shrugs, then directs his attention to Fisher. “Sorry ’bout hittin’ ya in the midst of it.”
“It’s fine,” Fisher says.
Jase sets down his fork. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry for my behavior. I have no excuse except I'm goin' through a lot and wasn't thinkin' straight. I assure y'all, it'll never happen again. Noah’s been my friend for many years, and I hope it stays that way.”
Wow. I don't think I've heard Jase speak with such sincerity before.
“That was very well said, Jase.” Momma smiles at him.
“That’s very sweet, Jase. Thank you,” I say.