Page 136 of Patching Over

“I don’t understand what you mean,” I reply, carefully taking a bite of my chili. “Mmm, this is good,” I say, more to myself than anything.

“It’s RiffRaff’s recipe,” Ryleigh states, also sitting down at the table I’m currently at, her own bowl of chili in her hands. “Pretty good, huh?”

“It’s delicious,” I say. “So, the generator’s out, huh?”

“It’s a good thing Brick got all those cots a while back,” Ryleigh muses.

“Where’s Moira?” I question.

“Kracken has her helping him in the kitchen,” Rory announces.

Hope radiates through my soul that my best friend is coming around, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s started communicating yet or not. I’ll never know the answer unless I ask. “Is she talking yet?”

“Not a peep, but I think it’s more that she’s choosing not to say anything versus she can’t,” Ryleigh advises.

“And where’s your little one?” I ask her, trying to get caught up on all the news I missed since I was in Cleveland.

“With her daddy, of course,” Ryleigh replies, grinning. “Okay, so I don’t know what you know with regard to toy runs, but we’ve been working on the store in town to get it all set up.”

I listen, fascinated, as the two women take turns telling me how the store is set up, and how they’ve already started receiving items. I think what I like best is the fact that the families in town who are financially struggling will be able to shop for their children for Christmas. Not only has the club already begun collecting stuff from other outlying clubs, they’ve also set up a section of new and gently used clothing as well.

“I want to shop,” I whisper, hearing about the ideas the other two women have to make sure the children have the best possible Christmas.

“Oh, we’ll be shopping,” Ryleigh promises. “Plus, since we knew you were coming back with Jingles, we held off on picking our names for Secret Santa.”

“How does that work?” I question.

“Well, we’ll do stockings for everyone and put stuff they like, gift cards, candy, that kind of thing in them,” Ryleigh says. “Plus, the officers will chip in and buy each brother a gift, but Brick and Banshee are overseeing that part. For Secret Santa, you write your name on a piece of paper along with three or four things you’d really like and the person who gets you will shop from thatlist. Then, of course, I’ll shop for Brick, Aubree, RiffRaff, and my two cats.”

“And probably everyone else here if last year is any indication,” Brick adds, walking up behind her. I grin when I see that he’s got Aubree swaddled to his chest leaving his arms free, and right now, she’s sound asleep, safe in her daddy’s embrace.

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Ryleigh says. “That’s why we decided to do Secret Santa, remember?”

“Sweetheart, you can’t help yourself,” he replies. “Plus, it’s not like you do it all the time or anything. It’s once a year.”

Getting giddy, I announce, “Well, I can’t wait to see who I get.”

Much later, Jingles and I are off to the side, cuddled together as all of us strive to stay warm. He grabbed a heavy comforter and put it down first, then took two sleeping bags and zipped them together, while I found warm pajamas to wear. I briefly considered putting on the onesie that my asshole brother sent me, then decided against it since I didn’t feel like marring those sweet memories with any ribbing he might give me.

“Are you warm enough, babe?” Jingles whispers.

“Mmhm,” I drowsily reply. The room finally quieted enough once Brick threatened to start fining the brothers since they kept waking up his daughter.

Leaning in, he kisses me then says, “Good night, Belle.”

“Night, Jingles.”

Back in his arms, safe and secure once again, it takes me almost no time at all to slip into a deep, unencumbered rest.

Morning comes far too soon after spending the day before on the road, but after a quick breakfast, Jingles and I head up to his room to get ready for the day. When we breach the doorway, I’m shocked to see my suitcases neatly lined up against the wall.

“When did these get up here?” I ask.

“Prospects brought them up last night. Want a shower? The generator might be on the fritz up here, but the water works just fine.”

“With you?” I question, causing him to smirk.

“What do you think?” he teases, moving closer and taking the hem of my sweatshirt in his hands and raising it up until I have no choice but to raise my arms. I can feel the goosebumps as they pop up on my arms and shiver. Taking my hand, he leads me into the bathroom and closes the door before he turns the shower on. He then continues to undress me, then himself while I stand there and try not to drool.

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