Page 34 of Jasper
Onyx slides into the chair across from me, still smirking all over the place. The brothers all start grabbing food like there’s no tomorrow.
Slate eats like he’s an automated eating machine, focused and fast. Mica waits until everyone else is eating before he even touches his fork. He’s a strange one. I still can’t figure him out.
Queenie settles in across from me. “You look like you actually eat,” she says. Picking up her fork, she moves food around on her plate. “Most of the women my boys bring around barely touch their food, like they’re afraid of calories.”
“I like to cook, and I like to eat, so it works out well for me. As long as I don’t eat junk, it all seems to balance out for me.”
Jasper chimes in, “Tessa’s a good cook too.” Then he tucks into his food with a vengeance.
“I saw that chicken pot pie you made for him. It looked mighty nice. You been cooking for my son a lot lately?”
“Well, he’s been working long hours,” I say. “He put a new roof on my house, and I thought the least I could do was feed him.”
Onyx waggles his eyebrows. “Yeah, cooking for him is the very least you can do.”
His whole family ignores him, so I do too.
Queenie’s eyes flick to Jasper, then back to me. “Jasper has always been a hard worker. He sees something that needs to be done and gets right on it. I’m glad you appreciate his hard work.”
Onyx leans forward with a grin. “This is the part where we pretend not to notice Jasper serving her first?”
I glance down. My plate’s got chicken, carrots, and a spoonful of potatoes that I didn’t put there.
“She forgets to eat when she’s stressed,” Jasper says, casually.
I tease him back. “Don’t act like you know me, handsome.”
That earns a laugh from Onyx, a snort from Slate, and a nod from Queenie that lingers longer than expected. I get the sense she’s filing that away somewhere, as evidence of flirting.
“How far along are you?” Queenie asks.
“Not very far. I was twelve weeks three days ago.”
She leans her elbows on the table, her expression excited. “I remember that stage. It’s right after the morning sickness stops but before you’re really showing.”
“You’ve got a good memory,” I say. “I’m starting to get food cravings and that’s been a barrel of laughs.”
“When that happens, you should call me so I can get what you need,” Jasper mutters under his breath.
That pulls another round of laughter. Even Slate cracks a grin, which feels like a small personal victory. But Rock hasn’t said much. He eats quietly, methodically, never looking directly at me for too long. I’m not sure if he’s giving me a chance to warm up to him or keeping a wall in place until I prove myself to him.
I flash a grin at Jasper. “Um, they’re called cravings because they’re wants, not necessarily needs.”
Queenie clears her throat and announces out of nowhere, “I made a list,” she says, trying to sound matter of fact. “Just a bunch of ideas on possible nursery themes, notes on breastfeeding versus bottle feeding. Nothing elaborate, just things I wish I’d had when I was expecting.”
I nod, trying to match her casual attitude, but failing because I’m far too interested in what she’s got on her list. I’m also feeling a bit nervous because it sounds suspiciously like how the Whitmores wanted to control my pregnancy. But I stop myself going down that route. Jasper is a nice man, his mom is probably trying to be kind to the mother of her first grandbaby. “That’s really sweet of you.”
She brightens, just a little. “Maybe we can meet up sometime this week and go over it together? I don’t want to take over. But when I had my boys I was all alone, so I know how having a helping hand—especially in the early days—is invaluable Maybe even a little shopping trip, if you’re up for it?”
Her words sound casual, but something more is hovering right below the surface. This meet-up is her throwing me a lifeline. She’s offering to show me the ropes of motherhood. Ormaybe I just hope that’s what she means. Jasper didn’t tell me much about his parents, but the way his mom says she was alone, makes me think there’s a story there.
“I’d like that,” I tell her earnestly. “I’d like that a lot.”
For a moment, I forget how nervous I was and that I’m the outsider. But then Rock sets down his fork. He looks directly at me. I can tell he’s got something on his mind. So I give him my undivided attention.
“Why’d you do it?” he asks. “The surrogacy. Why did you offer your body to another woman, a complete stranger? That’s assuming what Jasper says is true. Why put yourself through that?”
There’s no accusation in his tone, just a plain, direct question.
