Page 61 of When It Reins
This time, I’m grounded to my seat. With her hand in mine, my chest is able to expand and contract normally. I don’t have to remind myself to breathe, but I just do because she’s right here next to me, making everything in my life easier.
She eats with her left hand and keeps her right in mine, and I don’t know how she does it as gracefully as she does, but I’m grateful, nonetheless.
At the end of it, us boys take care of cleaning up the kitchen, and the girls take care of the kids, everyone pitching in so we don’t leave a mess for our mom.
Then Mom stops in front of me, her eyes glittering with excitement, and says, “I can’t tell you how happy I am, Mitch.”
I nod, glad she caught me alone and not in front of everyone else. “Me too, Ma.”
She reaches up, placing her hand on my cheek. “I was so worried for you when you came home. Seeing you with such a good girl has put my heart at peace. Is this a forever thing with her?”
I grab her hand and hold it in my own, giving her a nod so I’m not too loud. I don’t know about Juniper, but for me, I am going to ride this out for as long as I can. Hopefully forever.
She closes her eyes with gratitude and pulls me into a bone-crunching hug. “Thank God.”
I smile slightly and hug her back. I know she was worried about me. It was why my little niece and I got so much quality time when I came back home. It was why I never got a moment’s peace when I lived in this house, and it was the reason I worked so hard to get myself my cabin.
“She needs a ride home. I really did kidnap her tonight.” With those words, she pats my chest and steps around me to head into the den, and I laugh at her comment.
I follow behind and spot Juniper coming out of the room, her eyes sparkling at me with happiness. I grin back at her, lifting a hand and bracing it above the doorjamb.
“Any chance I could get a ride, stud?” Her hands reach for me automatically, and I’m happy to pull her body close to mine, my hand resting around her lower back as my nose finds her neck, and I breathe her in.
“Thank you for being here.”
She pulls her head back so she can see my face and smiles. “Happy to be here for you anytime.”
I lean down, unable to stop myself from tasting her lips after not being able to for hours. She obliges until we hear some cheers from behind her.
Blushing, she pulls back, then smiles at me and winks. “Care to show me your dungeon?”
I lift a brow and shake my head. “Are you ready for that?”
“Oh, I’m ready.”
27
juniper
Festivals were so much fun.They have crafts and trinkets, food and drinks, music playing all day, and the squeals of happy children running all over the place. It was fun.
You wouldn’t think we were in such a place with one look at Mitch’s face.
I repress the urge to laugh at the glare he is sending around his orbit, daring anyone to bump into him again. The funny part is, when a child ran into him—which, yes, this has happened more than once—he smiled and said it’s okay.
When an adult bumps him…It’s a different story.
“Here. Sugar is good for you.” I peel off a bite of the funnel cake muffins that Belle’s Bakery made special for this day, and he reluctantly takes the bite with his lips from my fingers. It’s such an intimate moment that I feel a shiver race down my spine, but I do my best to ignore it and pay attention to where we’re walking.
Today is the Acton Street Fair, where the city closes down Main Street, and all of the businesses set up booths outside their shops for people to come and gather around. There are extrabooths for people who don’t own storefronts to show off their wares.
I’d already bought several gorgeous pieces of jewelry off of one lady who lives over in Four Foxes. She recognized me from a meeting Rosemary and I held last week, and I could feel Mitch’s gaze on me when she mentioned it.
He might not know what I’m planning yet.
There was another man snooping around over the weekend, working on buying out people’s homes, but thankfully, they were standing firm.
It still doesn’t help the folks who are about to be evicted if they can’t pay their taxes.
