Hometown Reunion. Lisa Carter
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gulped past the boulder lodged in his throat.
Darcy’s lips quivered. “I’m glad.”
He was glad she was here. But he couldn’t say that to her. That had never been the way they were with each other. Instead, he took a lungful of the scents wafting from the basket. “Something smells great.”
She shrugged. “Mom was convinced you two would die of starvation without a home-cooked meal tonight.”
He’d always loved her mother, Agnes, a quiet, sweet spirit more comfortable behind the scenes than center stage. With his own mother off-Shore right now, somehow she’d known what he and Brody needed most was a taste of home.
“Lasagna. Half spinach for Brody, meat for a carnivore like you.” Darcy squared her shoulders. “Also included, lunch fixings for tomorrow. And a pie tonight if both of you are very good boys.”
“Me wuv pie.” Propped against her thigh, Brody sighed, a sound of utter contentment.
Not unlike what Jax was feeling. Suddenly, the world seemed a better place. Despite the fading sunlight, a happier, brighter place.
She bit her lip. “Would Brody let me pick him up, Jax?”
“Not me, but you he might.”
Flushing, he dropped his eyes at the painful admission. She must think him a terrible father. His own son didn’t want Jax to hold him.
She opened her arms, and Brody didn’t hesitate. He leaped into her embrace. Jax pushed aside a sting of envy.
He heaved the basket up the steps. “I’ll call your mom later and thank her.”
At the door, he paused, keeping his back to Darcy. “Seems like a ton of food for just the little guy and me. Would you stay and help us?”
He was asking for more than dinner. They both knew it. And if she refused? He wasn’t sure how he’d cope with another rejection from her today.
The silence stretched. He closed his eyes, but didn’t turn around. His heart pounded in his ears.
“I’ll stay.”
Opening his eyes, he released a breath.
She lugged his son, propped on her hip, onto the porch. “After dinner, I’ll go over the map route with you.”
He held the door for her. “I’d appreciate it.”
In the kitchen, he set out the food on the butcher-block countertop. He hadn’t had time to explore the kitchen, but he needn’t have worried. She immediately pulled out plates and removed glasses from the cabinet next to the sink.
“You’ve spent a lot of time here with Shirley.”
Darcy opened a utensil drawer. “She mentored me.”
And therefore, Darcy was far much more deserving of this opportunity than him. No wonder she resented him. No wonder she didn’t want to work with him.
Darcy showed Brody how to fold the paper napkins, and his little man toddled around the farmhouse table, setting out three places.
She knew the kayaking business, and Jax didn’t. It should be her name on the company title, not his. If it weren’t for Brody, he’d...
Jax dug into the casserole. For Brody’s sake, what choice did he have? The papers were signed. The deal was done.
And he was so profoundly grateful for this chance to come home. To have a job. A purpose and a way to provide a life for his son.
Jax spooned out the lasagna onto the plates. Darcy rigged a stack of phone books onto one of the chairs as a booster seat.
He poured milk for Brody into a small juice cup. “I’m surprised anyone uses telephone books anymore.”
She lifted Brody to the top of the stack. “Shirley is old-school.”
Jax cut the spinach lasagna into bite-size pieces for Brody. “So it was you behind the website.”
She held up a salad fork. “Can Brody use this?”
Jax grinned over his son’s dark head. “Let’s just say he gives it a good try.”
She smiled at him. A lot of firsts tonight. His pulse ratcheted.
Darcy tucked a napkin in the neck of Brody’s shirt. “He’ll get the hang of it. Like you with this single parenting thing.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me.”
She arched her eyebrow. “Confidence has never been a problem for Jaxon Pruitt.”
Gripping the fork, Brody speared a noodle.
“Uh, wait a minute, Brody.” She placed a restraining hand on his arm. “We need to tell God thanks for the food.”
Something else Jax had failed to do as a parent. His stomach tightened. But she flicked a quick smile at him.
“Put down the fork, Brody, and put your hands together like this. Close your eyes.”
His little hands folded underneath his chin. “Like Gwandma.”
Jax nodded. “Like Grandma.”
When his parents came to help with Brody’s care in the months following Adrienne’s death, his mother had taught Brody to pray. A good practice Jax had allowed to lapse. A good habit he needed to reinstate.
Brody squeezed his eyes shut. “’Kay, Dawcy.”
A smile hovering on her lips, she closed her eyes, too. “Dear Father, thank You for this day and for the food.”
Not closing his eyes, Jax studied Darcy’s face, as usual bare of anything beyond sunscreen. Her sweeping lashes lay soft against her cheeks.
“Thank You for the hands that prepared this wonderful food. Thank You for Brody.”
His son’s mouth tipped up at the corners.
She lifted her face toward the ceiling, like a sunflower seeking light. “Thank You for Brody’s daddy.”
Jax stilled.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “And thank You for bringing Brody and his dad home to Kiptohanock.”
“Amen,” Jax whispered.
She cleared her throat. “Amen, Brody. Now you can eat.”
Brody’s eyes flew open. “Ay-ay-men...”
They laughed.
Keeping an eye on Brody’s attempt to lance the lasagna and access his mouth, Jax sat across from Darcy. “The confident Jaxon Pruitt you remember didn’t quite make it back from an Afghan province.”
She handed him a plate of lasagna. “What about the commendations under fire? Jax the Invincible.”
“Not so invincible.” He paused, fork midway to his mouth. “You kept track of me?”
She stabbed the lasagna on her plate. “Not so hard with the Kiptohanock grapevine at work. You know how it is in a small town.”
“Home sweet home,” he grunted. “Where you may not know what you’re doing, but you can rest assured everyone else does.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She rolled her eyes. “But in your case, you’ve always succeeded at everything you attempted.”
“In hindsight, too easily. Without having to try too hard.” He bent over the plate. “And when it really matters, like now...”
She laid down her fork. “You are a naturally gifted athlete. Easy on the eyes. And despite the laid-back demeanor, intelligent. You’ll be an old hand at running the kayaking business before you know it.”
His head came up. “You think I’m good-looking?”