Page 121 of Deal Breaker
“You hiding in here?” he asks.
“Are you?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. Noah is on a spreadsheet warpath. Something about variance margins and quarterly goals, and I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for that kind of energy before noon.”
I laugh and turn back to the machine, taking his advice and picking the dark roast. Jesse moves into the room, opens the fridge, pokes around like he might find buried treasure in there.
“So…” he starts, casually. Too casually. “Ford mentioned this weekend.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
He straightens and closes the fridge door. “Barbecue at his place with your tiny human.”
There’s a soft catch in my chest. “Poppy,” I say.
He nods, voice quieter. “Poppy.” He says her name like he’s remembering his mom.
“I’m excited,” he says, flashing a crooked smile. “Been waiting a long time to meet her.”
“I know,” I say. It’s quiet for a beat before he leans against the counter beside me, arms crossed, voice still light.
“You know, when Ford told us, I didn’t say much. Mostly because I was stunned and wanted to murder someone, but also because I figured it wasn’t my story to react to.”
I grip the edge of the counter, meeting his eyes.
“But I’ve been thinking about it. And I just want you to know…I get it.”
I blink, surprised. “You do?”
He nods. “Look, I’m not built for deep. I’m going to be the fun uncle. But I know Ford and I know what this means to him. I see what you’re doing to make this right.”
My chest pulls tight. “Jesse…”
“You don’t have to explain,” he says, looking at me. “You don’t even have to say anything.”
I don’t realize my eyes are glossy until I blink too fast, and a tear escapes. He grins—a little lopsided. “Also, if she doesn’t like me, I’ll be the one who’s crying in the corner. Just giving you fair warning.”
“She’s going to love you,” I say, meaning it. “You’re ridiculous. She’s going to think you’re the greatest thing ever.”
“Perfect,” he says. “That’s the energy I’m bringing. Uncle of the year. She’ll be like, Wes and Noah who? I’m going to buy her love with a Hello Kitty scooter and probably a pink leather jacket.”
I laugh. “You’ll spoil her.”
“That’s the whole point.”
He gives me a wink and a gentle nudge with his elbow before pushing off the counter and for the door, leaving my heart feeling full and just the tiniest bit fragile in the very best way.
Four hours later,a message pings on my screen, and I sit up straighter before I even register who it’s from.
Ford Winters.
My heart skips—actuallyskips—like I’m 20 again and he’s texting me to meet him, which is ridiculous. Embarrassing actually. One message from him should not make me feel this way, yet here I am, staring at my screen and smiling like an idiot.
Ford: I miss you.
Ford: I want to take you home.
My stomach does that ridiculous swoop again.Home.It doesn’t matter that we live in different houses, wherever Ford is will always be my home.
