Page 52 of Entangled

His eyes flare in surprise as a soft laugh escapes him. “Maybe.” He nods his head toward the kitchen. “Come on, he’s been dying to see you all day.”

Jace leads me to an archway in the living room wall that lures me in with the most delicious smell of creams and spices and I step into a small kitchen, seeing a middle-aged man a little shorter than Jace stirring a large pot on the stove. He’s dressed in a short sleeve, button-up fishing shirt and cargo shorts. His skin weathered and his short brown hair messy on his head. He has the same laid-back air about him that Jace gives off, but that’s where the similarities start and end. Jace’s features are definitely all his mom. A sharp contrast to his dad’s more rugged look.

He looks up as we enter and smiles warmly at his son, stepping away from the stove to enfold him in a quick hug. “See you found your way back.”

“Always do, Pops.” Jace slaps him on the back before stepping away.

His dad turns to me and the smile on his face spreads even wider. “Damn, Eleanor. You’re a bit taller than I remember.”

I give him a small smile and shrug. “That tends to happen from what I hear.”

He laughs openly and comes over, enfolding me in the same warm hug he just gave his son. “You used to call me Uncle Jack but I think Jack will do just fine now.”

“Jack,” I echo when he steps back, lips twitching as I cock a brow at Jace. “Jack and Jace. That’s adorable.”

His dad chuckles under his breath and returns to the stove without comment while Jace rolls his eyes at me, reaching a hand over to mess up the hair on top of my head. “Shut it, Blondie.”

A soft laugh escapes me. “It really is.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, walking over to the fridge and opening it, scanning the contents as his eyebrows pull down. “Tiff bringing the wine, Dad?”

“Yeah.” Jack nods, stirring the pot on the stove and tasting a bit before grabbing for one of the spices he has lining the countertop. “But don’t tell your aunt. You know how she is about it since Tiff is still underage. Although what store that girl manages to charm into selling to her is beyond me.”

“How old is Tiff?”

“Nineteen,” Jace answers me, closing the fridge and his voice turning unusually sarcastic. “And will the sheriff be joining us tonight?”

“You know better than that, boy. Woman’s always working.”

I cock my head at him in question. “Your aunt is the sheriff?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tiff’s mom. No blood relation to me though, thank God. That woman is way too high strung.”

“Jace,” Jack scolds quietly.

“What about the aunt who owns the bar?”

“One and the same. Not that she ever steps foot in the place. Pretty sure the only reason she lets me manage it is because she dislikes us both equally. It was her husband’s before he passed away.”

“So wait—” I shake my head, confused as to their convoluted family tree. “How are you related?”

“Tiff’s dad and my mom were siblings. Although both of them are no longer with us. You know about my mom and Tiff’s dad passed away when she was tiny.”

“Gotcha.”

“Alright, Jace,” Jack interjects. “Go ahead and set the table. Dinner is almost done and Tiff should be here any minute.” He turns, giving a warning look to his son. “And don’t you dare con Eleanor here into helping you.”

Jace rolls his eyes as I flash him a smug look, making my way to the stove beside Jack to peer into the pot. The yellow soup wafts up and has me fighting the urge to snag a spoon and steal a bite.

I turn to Jack with a smile. “This smells amazing by the way.”

“Ain’t nothing but a little corn chowder with crab, darlin’.” He pats my back before reaching down to turn off the stove.

“You know, Dad,” Jace calls from where he’s laying silverware down on the kitchen table. “Eleanor is quite the cook herself. Maybe y’all can trade recipes after dinner if she likes it?”

I whip my head around and narrow my eyes at his amused face.

Bastard.

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