Page 42 of Slow Burn
Her glare stayed sharp, her chair angled at Cole’s right like she was ready to pounce.
Cole slid a glance at Jocelyn, sharing the joke in the middle of it, and damn if her sly grin didn’t almost undo him. Too muchflirting that evening getting to his head. In mixed company, he kept his reaction locked down, but inside he was groaning under the weight of what that smile—and everything before it—did to him.
“Dish us up, Pop,” Cole cut in, needing the conversation to shift—mostly for his own sake. “Diet starts tomorrow, like we all tell ourselves after fallin’ off the wagon.”
“Have to be on the wagon to fall off it,” Ellen muttered, still pinning John with that look.
He just chuckled and stretched a hand toward Jocelyn. “Help me out here, Jossie. Change the subject and save me.”
Her smile flashed as she passed him her plate. “I do owe you one.” She gave the portion he scooped a quick glance then nodded.
He barked out a laugh, sliding the plate back to her. “You definitely do not.”
Ellen pounced on the opening, her focus shifting to Jocelyn. “Tell us about your work, Jocelyn. Did you take time off to visit?”
Jocelyn smiled, the brightness again catching Cole in the chest like a fist. “Most of it can be done remotely. I made sure to get my major projects done before coming here, but I have ongoing work with certain clients. I’ve been balancing that between…”
Her words faltered, smile shrinking.
“It’s alright, Jossie,” John said. “Don’t need to dance around it. We know why you’re here, and you deserve those answers.”
Ellen’s nod was quick and certain. Pride nudged at Cole’s ribs. Jocelyn still looked stricken, but she gave a slow nod.
Still killed the conversation and that smile Cole couldn’t get enough of.
“Let’s say Grace, so we can dig in.” Ellen lifted her brows at her husband. “John?”
His daddy’s old prayer rolled over Cole like a familiar song. He peeked one eye open. Jocelyn’s head was bowed, but she was staring down at the food, her mind miles away.
The meal carried on. Jocelyn came alive again when she talked more about her work—graphic design, marketing, building other people’s visions. He watched her light up and felt that squeeze in his chest again, like she belonged here, at this table.
Then Ellen asked about Cole’s progress on the house. He kept it short—“slow and steady.” But his mama went right on filling Jocelyn in about her daddy passing the family land on to Cole.
“Fifty acres,” Jocelyn repeated, her mouth dropping open. “You’re building it yourself?”
“Two walls framed up today.” He shrugged like it was nothing.
“That’s amazing.”
Her words made his skin itch. Praise never sat right, not on him. John barely grunted whenever Cole mentioned the project. Only his mama ever bragged on him.
And she sure puffed up like a hen showing off her best feathers. “You’ll have to take her over while she’s in town.”
“Ellen,” John warned.
“I’d love to see it,” Jocelyn said, and it didn’t sound like politeness.
Cole tried for casual, gave another shrug. “Happy to show you sometime.”
Silence followed while John stared at his wife. She ignored him, all triumph and smiles. Cole caught Jocelyn’s eye, enjoying another shared joke at his mama’s not-so-subtle matchmaking. Maybe Jocelyn didn’t mind. He sure as hell didn’t.
The moment broke when Ellen shoved her chair back. “Why don’t y’all go into the living room while I get the pie ready?”
His daddy’s stare didn’t waver, but he got up, too, stacking dishes.
“Don’t you dare touch that plate, Jocelyn Murphy,” Ellen snapped when Jocelyn made to help.
Her hands shot up in surrender, and Cole couldn’t help the laugh that cracked out at the shock on Jocelyn’s face. The full-nameMom Voicecould rattle anybody.
