Page 158 of Eight Years Gone

“Because he reminds me of Logan. It got to the point where there was nothing that I could do to help my brother. But I can try to help Colton.”

Jessica shook her head. “I don’t know.”

‘I don’t know’ wasn’t a flat-out no. “I’m making lasagna for dinner. We can discuss everything with Jagger and Colton if you would like to stay. If this isn’t an idea that makes you comfortable, I’ll do what I can to offer my support from a distance.”

“You’re so much like your mother. Kind and generous. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to her. I can still see the look on her face when I ran into her at the grocery store—when she saw Colton.”

Grace stood, not interested in talking about the past—about how Jessica and her father had devastated her mother. Regrets changed nothing. They couldn’t go back. “Colton’s here. He’s my brother. He’s family. I’d like to have the chance to get to know him.”

Jessica nodded. “If I’m staying, I’d like to help.”

She walked with Jessica to the kitchen. “There’s a salad that needs to be made, too. The greens and other vegetables are in the fridge. I wasn’t sure what Colton liked. Feel free to use what you know you’ll both eat.”

Jessica held her gaze. “Thank you, Grace.”

“You’re welcome.” And then she moved into action, certain that dinner could still be ready by the time Jagger and Colton walked through the door.

* * *

Jagger took the final dish from the drying rack, using a towel to wipe away the last couple of drops of water.

When he and Grace had started cleaning up, a pile of pots, pans, and various other kitchen gadgets needed to be washed after she’d created one hell of an excellent meal.

After two changes of the dishwater and plenty of elbow grease, the kitchen was mostly tidy again.

Thirty minutes ago, Jessica and Colton had headed back to Millsdale for the night. But tomorrow, they would be back with Colton’s vehicle and whatever else he would need to feel at home for the next several months.

By the time the four of them had finished dinner, it had been decided that Colton would give life in Preston Valley a shot for a while. It had surprised Jagger some when Colton had told his mom that he wanted to be back first thing in the morning. For a kid who’d been ready to make his escape a few short hours ago, he’d done a hell of an about-face.

Grace rinsed out the dishcloth before she wiped down the counters. “I imagine it’ll be a while before we have a night like this again. Just the two of us.”

Jagger put away the large platter that had held the small mountain of insanely delicious garlic bread. “Not necessarily. Colton’s seventeen. He’ll be busy doing his own thing—working and whatnot. Hopefully, he’ll make some friends.”

Grace rinsed the suds down the sink, then wiped her hands dry. “That’s certainly the plan. I want him to be happy here.”

He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her against him as he held her gaze. “You’re amazing. Not many people would do this.”

She locked her wrists at the back of his neck. “Thank you for saying so, but you’re amazing too. You’re always so willing to stand by my side.”

He began to move, swaying with her in a slow dance, forever savoring that he got to hold Grace. “Because I’m your number one fan.”

She grinned, following his lead. “It means more than you know.” She gained her tiptoes, kissing him. “So, where did you and Colton go today? I’m eager to hear about your field trip.”

He’d been waiting for the questions. It had only been a matter of time. He wasn’t looking forward to answering—to bringing up the place he and Grace had officially left behind just a couple of weeks ago. “To Wakeview.”

She frowned. “What did you guys do in Wakeview?”

“Took a tour. We went to my old place, which is up for auction, by the way. Then we swung by the mansion.”

There was no way he was telling her they’d taken a quick pause where Logan had mostly bled to death.

Concern filled her eyes. “I know your old home brings up a lot of stuff for you. How are you doing after that?”

He shrugged. “I’m all right.”

And that’s all he planned to say because he didn’t know how to tell her that it wasn’t his piece of shit house that had messed him up; it had been the junkyard and staring at a kid who was a near mirror image of his best friend.

“I wish I would have known. I could have come with you.”

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