Page 44 of You’re Mine

“I didn’t know you were such a good cook,” I say shyly.

Jace grins, his fork midway to his mouth.

“I used to have to make meals for my family all the time. My mom was always working, and my dad was … well, he was my dad. I couldn’t count on him for anything, and so I had to learn to cook.”

I put my hand on his, remembering my encounter with Jace’s dad so long ago. The guy was a drunk, and my heart breaks at the thought of a little boy forced to make dinner for himself. Meanwhile, Jamie comes back to the table with another full plate and sits down with a smile, oblivious to the sad memories.

“What are we going to do today?” he chirps.

I smile through my tears and try to look happy.

“I don’t know, baby, because I’ve never been to New York before. Jace, what do you recommend?”

My man smiles, gripping my hand in his.

“Well,” Jace starts, “I have a little surprise, one for you, and one for Mommy. After breakfast, we can all get dressed and head out if that’s okay?”

My eyes fly to his. When did Jace have time to get a surprise put together? The curiosity bug bites, and suddenly, I want to know what he has in store for us.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” cheers Jamie. His father grins.

“Great, we’re going to be heading to Connecticut which will be a bit of a drive. We’ll probably have to spend the night up there, but don’t worry because I called ahead and had the staff buy some stuff for my house up there.”

Again, I’m totally stunned. How many houses does Jace have?

“It must be hard to keep track of all the different places you live,” I say in a quiet voice. Jace merely nods.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. All of that stuff meant nothing because until I had you and Jamie to share these experiences with, they were just things. But with you, they become meaningful. That’s what you and our son do for me,” he says in a low voice.

Again, I turn tear-stained eyes to his.

“Really?”

“Really,” he says in a rumble before squeezing my hand again. “Come on, Jamie, let’s get packed and then get rolling!” I laugh a little bit. After twenty-five years of being stuck in Lenville, I’m doing a huge amount of travel.

“Do you want to go to Connecticut?” I ask Jamie.

“Yeah!” he exclaims. Of course, there’s syrup all over his face. He always makes a mess, no matter what he’s eating. That must be his extra special skill. “What’s Con… Con…”

“Connecticut? It’s the state right next to New York. That’s where we are right now.”

“No more South Carolina?” he asks, cocking his head.

I meet his eyes.

“No more, and never again, sweetheart. We’re never going back.”

Fortunately, my son doesn’t question this. It’s as if he knows it’s for the best on some child-like level, and accepts it for what it is. We finish eating, and I take Jamie to the bathroom so the two of us can get cleaned up. I wipe all the syrup from his face and get as much of the flour I can out of his hair. He’ll probably need a shower soon, but it’s okay. I still can’t believe Jace just threw flour all over us, and it was fun. We haven’t relaxed in so long, and I want my son to feel like he has the freedom to be goofy and to explore.

I take Jamie’s dirty clothes and send him to his room to get dressed before taking care of myself next. Washing my face and taking a quick swipe through my hair, I get as clean as possible and then wander back to Jace’s room to get some clothes. The duffle bag I packed is still there, and I rummage through it before giving up. We didn’t bring many outfits, and hopefully what I have is enough.

But clothes don’t really matter, not when we finally have our freedom. I throw on some comfortable jeans and a plain black t-shirt, trying futilely to smooth my hair when the door opens and Jace walks in. He’s still a floury mess.

“Hey.” His hair is tousled, some of it falling into his eyes, and yet he’s still so rakishly handsome. He starts to walk over to me, and I’m ready to sink into him, but then I remember I’m all cleaned off while he’s still covered in white dust.

“Wait! You’re dirty!” I squeal. If any of the flour gets on my black shirt, it’ll be nearly impossible to get it off without actually washing it.

“Oh really? But you like getting dirty, my slutty little girl,” he growls suggestively. He’s right. I love being with him, and my eyes round as I figure out his next move. He’s going to smear his mess all over me.

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