Page 5 of Slow Burn
“Well, hey there, Honey! Get on in this house before we melt on the porch,” Ellen crooned, her fingers wrapping around Jocelyn’s wrist to tug her into the entryway.
Before she could get her bearings, Ellen pulled her in for a hug, her chestnut hair tickling Jocelyn’s chin as she tucked in against her.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to talk with you at the ceremony, but this is much better than standing in that hot sun anyway!” She pulled back and held Jocelyn at arm’s length. “My, you are a beauty, Jocelyn. So statuesque.”
Cheeks burning at the unexpected compliment, Jocelyn couldn’t collect her thoughts in time to thank Ellen for it before the older woman led her deeper into the house.
Everything had that lived-in feel, rooms cluttered with a mish-mash of antique furniture in a variety of finishes that somehow seemed to fit with the shining wood floors and crown molding and trim. The house was likely built in the early part of the 20th century, and little had changed of its bones, cared for lovingly by this woman who seemed as sturdy and constant as her home.
The air was as blessedly cool as Jocelyn had been hoping, and it helped dry the sweat that had gathered in unmentionable places on her body from the weather and her nerves.
She only got a glimpse into the sitting room to the right and a peek toward the stairs down the hall before following Ellen into the kitchen on the left. She was about to offer to help with the meal when the back door slammed open, hitting shelves of canned goods tucked in a little alcove toward the back of the room.
Cole brushed bronze curls from his forehead, his lips rolled inward in annoyance.
“Grill’s going, Ma, but Pop isn’t back yet with the steaks.” He stomped up the three steps from the back door into the kitchen and stiffened for a second when he spotted Jocelyn.
He’d exchanged the suit for loose-fitting jeans and a gray t-shirt that pulled across broad shoulders. The suit hadn’t seemed like his style, and his appearance now fit the image of what Jocelyn imagined a bartender looked like. Never mind that he was the owner of that bar.
“Mind your manners, Cole. Say hello,” Ellen scolded when he remained silent.
He shifted to her and ran his knuckles along the stubble that shaded his jaw. “Uh, right. Hello, Jocelyn.” He took a halting step forward and offered his hand like he was unsure of the move.
Jocelyn took it and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Cole.”
His hand was wide and rough, swallowing hers in its calloused warmth.
Ellen watched them closely as they both fell awkwardly silent. Then she took a breath. “How long are you in town, Jocelyn?”
The question caught her off-guard, her pulse spiking for a second. “Oh, I hadn’t decided yet,” Jocelyn hedged. “Uncle Joe still lives around here, and I’d planned to visit him for a bit.”
Cole glanced at his mama, but Ellen didn’t meet his gaze as her smile tightened. The lie was thin, Jocelyn knew. Uncle Joe was Nan’s much younger brother, and he was a well-known deadbeatdrunkard. Nan and Joe didn’t speak, so he wouldn’t even know Jocelyn was there, let alone that she planned to visit him. If she even did. It wasn't likely he'd have any answers for her.
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” Ellen said with false cheer.
Cole snorted and folded his arms across his chest.
“Steaks incoming!” a voice bellowed from the front of the house.
Jocelyn turned when John came shuffling into the kitchen, his big frame eating up space. With all four of them in there, it was beginning to feel small.
“Jocelyn!” John hollered, shoving the grocery bags into Cole’s arms so he could scoop her up. The bear hug eased the hollow ache inside her that her father’s absence had carved out long ago.
He released her, grinning as he looked her up and down. “All grown up!”
“Thanks to you,” she replied.
He scoffed, waving her off.
Behind him, Cole brought the groceries to Ellen.
“John Hauser, what on earth is this?” Ellen asked, rifling through the first sack. She lifted the tub of ice cream and turned to look at her husband with a brow raised.
Pink crept up the back of John’s neck. “We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” He shot Jocelyn a wink, and Cole shook his head, smirking from behind him.
“You just had that appointment with Doc.” She wagged her finger in his face as he crowded close to her, pushing Cole out of their corner and toward Jocelyn.
John’s hands landed on Ellen’s hips, and he leaned down to kiss her. “Special occasions, El.”
