Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
MIA
I can’t claim I’m not like the other girls and that shopping doesn’t do anything for me because it does.
But grocery shopping? That can go to hell.
I would literally order takeout every night just to avoid going to the store if I thought my waistline could take it.
And the absolute worst part of it all? Hauling the bags you just paid way too much for, thanks to inflation, from your car and into your apartment and then throwing out the food you bought the last time you were on a health kick and replacing it with a fresher version.
The only redeeming part of this entire thing? Half the ingredients that are now sitting in our refrigerator, I’ll be using them tonight to cook beef tacos for Jessie when he gets home from a four-night away series in Boston.
Kate, Felicity, and Luna weren’t kidding when they said the days they were on the road felt way longer than a regular twenty-four hours.
With an iced latte in hand, I take a seat at the kitchen island and bring up the method for tonight’s meal on my phone.
I might be a terrible cook, but I’m determined to do something nice for my boyfriend, especially since he’s always the one making dinner for us.
I’m halfway through learning about homemade guacamole when my phone buzzes in my hand.
Jessie
Where’s my girl at?
I catch myself smiling down at my screen.
Me
Nursing an iced latte at the kitchen island. Also—and I’m not ashamed to admit it—I’m clock-watching.
Jessie
Me too.
The clock-watching bit, not the iced latte. Fucking gross.
It’s got a caramel shot in it too.
I love my girlfriend, I love my girlfriend, I love my girlfriend.
I was actually busy arranging a surprise for you before you rudely interrupted me. How can I help you?
Oh, yeah? Clue?
Ummm … you can eat it.
Baby, we’re still an hour away from landing, and now all I can think about is you sitting on my face. Play fair.
I burst out laughing and quickly type a response, crossing my legs under the counter.
Me
Not sure my pussy is a surprise for you anymore.
Jessie
It is when I still can’t process the fact that you’re mine and I get to be your man.
Only Jessie Callaghan—drop-dead gorgeous NHL superstar forward and current lead goal scorer, who could get any girl he wanted—could think he wasn’t enough for me. I don’t care how many times I have to say it, even if I’m repeating the words on my last breath; he will one day believe that he’s everything to me.
Me
Well, best start believing it. When will you be home? It’s only, like, ten a.m. here. You’re way earlier than expected.
Jessie
Yeah, the guys voted on getting home ASAP since three-quarters of the team have families now. Actually, can you do something for me?
Yeah, sure.
Meet me downstairs in the lobby in, like, two hours?
You’re making me suspicious, Callaghan. What are you planning?
Let’s just say, it’s something I’ve been wanting to do with you for a while.
That’s literally all I’m getting, isn’t it? Also, I was planning a surprise for you tonight.
There are so many ways I could reply to this message, but I’m sitting next to this really fucking annoying goalie who won’t stop reading over my shoulder. So, all I’ll say is, yep, that’s all you’re getting … for now.
P.S. Will be home in time for your surprise.
Hi, Jensen.
Don’t encourage him, Sweetheart.
When the elevator doors open to the lobby, I see my boyfriend standing on the other side in all his navy-dress-pants-and-white-shirt glory.
A smile tugs at his lips when he sees me. “Hey, Mia.”
Not giving a fuck, I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face into his chest.
“What are you doing?” He laughs as I inhale him.
“Your smell on the pillows was wearing off. So, I’m getting my fix.”
When he tips my chin up to look at him, I rise onto my tiptoes as a few people move around us to enter the elevator.
“Well, we need to remedy that, don’t we?” He brings his lips down against mine, swiping his tongue across my lower lip. “Yeah, I’m going to need to stop actually.” He pulls away slightly and takes a look around.
“Why?” I say, trying to work out who he’s seen. “We don’t need to hide anymore, remember?”
He looks down between us, and that’s when I see it—the tent forming in his pants.
A giggle bubbles out of me.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” he mocks. “Robbing your man of all his dignity out in public?”
I shake my head and inconspicuously brush the back of my hand over his dick. “I’m really sorry.”
He closes his eyes and drops his forehead against mine, his hair tumbling forward. “Yeah, you sound really regretful. Let’s get out of here before I abandon this idea altogether and take you back upstairs.” He scans what I’m wearing. “You knew what you were doing when you wore my favorite black skirt, didn’t you?”
I shrug and bite down on my bottom lip, pleased my outfit hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Where are your bags?” I ask. “You came straight from the airport, right?”
Jessie tips his head over his shoulder. “Yep. The concierge is looking after them for me. We need to get going.”
He wraps his little finger around mine, smiling down at me. I can tell he wants to kiss me again, and, God, do I want him to.
“Let’s go. There’s a car waiting outside for us.”
With our fingers still joined, he leads me through the double glass doors and out into the fresh spring air.
Climbing into the back of an executive SUV, I look across at Jessie as the driver takes off without any instruction.
“Where are we going?”
He retakes my hand across the back seat, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “You’ll see.”
As I playfully narrow my eyes at him, I don’t say anything; instead, I observe the lightness in his face.
In the past week, even though he’s been on the road for most of it, I’ve caught glimpses of the real Jessie Callaghan. The version of him that was buried alive with fear and pressure. He spent every day being crushed under the weight of anticipation, worrying about everyone but himself.
I still see heaviness there. Guilt over his mom and that he couldn’t save her. I know he blames himself not only for her death, but also for the way he’s feeling right now. Relieved. Knowing that her passing gives him an opportunity to break free from the shackles her addiction locked him in. Sometimes, I catch him staring at the picture of them sitting on the couch when he was a baby. The morning before he left for Boston, I know I heard him talking to her when he was in the bathroom. That was the same morning he found out Wayne didn’t want to hold a funeral for her, claiming it wasn’t Alice’s wish.
I don’t believe him, and neither does Jessie.
My heart breaks for him that he won’t get a chance to say goodbye properly. If there’s one thing the grieving mind needs, it’s closure.
When I squeeze his hand a little, he turns his head from where he was gazing out of the passenger window to look at me.
“When I moved to Seattle, it’s true that I needed the money, but do you know the real reason why I got a job as a florist?”
He shakes his head. “Why?”
Drawing in a breath, I steady myself. I’ve never shared this with anyone before, not even with Jessie the first time around. “I have more photos of my mom than I know what to do with. Album after album of me growing up in her arms. I’ve spent a lot of time flicking through those pages, trying and hoping to feel her arms wrap around me again. To feel that comfort only she could bring me as a child, you know?”
He swallows thickly, his eyes shining in the bright sunlight filtering through the windows.
“Then, one day, I was walking through town. It had been a really shit week.”
I clear my throat and push down the lump forming there. “I really missed my mom, but that day especially, I needed her. I needed to feel the safety of her arms. Everything felt like it was spiraling—my emotions, my thoughts, I was even struggling to imagine her voice anymore.”
Jessie squeezes my hand back, but doesn’t say anything, just letting me know he feels everything I’m saying.
“I knew what was happening—that I was struggling with depression. But it wasn’t like I could really go to my dad since he was even worse off. I’d wake up to faint noises of him crying from his room and go to sleep to the same sounds. In that moment, I felt like I’d lost both my parents, and as an only child, it felt like my world was pretty dark all of a sudden. I’d gone from worrying about the length of my school skirt to wondering whether my dad was potentially suicidal.”
Jessie wraps his hand around the back of my head, leaning across and burying his face into the crook of my neck. “Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry. And then I went and broke your heart all over again.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I get why you had to do what you did.”
On another deep breath, I continue, “That was when I walked past this florist. It wasn’t new or anything. I’d just never really paid attention to it before. It was the smell of the freesias they had on display that had me stopping in my tracks. I guess you could describe them as a warm hug in the fall. When I picked up a bunch and smelled them, I just remember feeling grounded, and that’s when it came to me—she used to keep them in a vase on our dining table. They were her favorite flowers, and Dad used to buy them for her. So, I did. I bought a bunch and took them home with me.”
I blow out a soft, tearful laugh. “It’s amazing what five stems of flowers can do—because they filled the room with my mom. When my dad got home that night, he dropped his bag at his feet by the door. At first, I thought maybe I’d made things worse for him. But when he saw them sitting there in the center of the table, he smiled. The same smile he reserved just for Mom.”
Holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jessie brushes his lips over mine. “You know, each time I look at you, I convince myself there’s no way you could get any more beautiful. You can though, can’t you? Because your beauty is coded not just into your body, but every part of your soul, Mia.”
I sigh into his touch. I know I’ll never take the way he makes me feel for granted. “Is there maybe something that would help you feel connected with your mom?”
When he drops his eyes, a pang of despair hits me, as I’m reminded about how different our childhoods looked.
“Ginger. Whenever I smell ginger, I think of Mom,” he whispers. “It makes me think of Will too. She told me that when she was pregnant with us, she used to eat it to settle her nausea. When she lost Will, other than the booze, she’d comfort-eat ginger biscuits. She still did right up until the day she passed. I guess the smell of them is warm and comforting, you know? When I was a kid, I used to sneak a couple when I could, and sometimes, she’d break one in half and share it with me. Whenever I smell ginger, it takes me somewhere. Reminds me that Will was here once and maybe now my mom too.”
I kiss him, and then the driver takes a sharp left, bringing us back to reality and reminding me that Jessie was taking me somewhere.
“We’re nearly here,” he says, looking past me and out of my passenger window.
In the time we’ve spent talking, I didn’t notice we’d driven out of town and into rural surroundings.
“Where are we going?” I ask once more, trying to get him to break.
“You want to know right now? We’re only, like, a minute away.”
“Yes. I’m impatient.” I groan.
He chuckles and sits back in his seat, our hands still clasped together between us. “Hawthorne Hills.”
My brows furrow. “That means nothing to me.”
“It’s a quiet town with great views.” He turns to look at me. “Close to your university too.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “W-why would that matter?”
Right as the question leaves my mouth, our driver turns onto a private driveway.
Rolling down his window, he speaks into an intercom. “Hi. Mr. and Mrs. Callaghan are here to view the property.”
I choke on my own breath as it leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and Jessie throws his head back, chuckling.
As the gates open, he turns to look at me, his head still resting against his seat. “Just as I thought.”
“Thought what?”
He smiles brightly. “I told the driver we were married—which was risky for the rumor mill, I know, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what it would feel like to hear you take my name.”
A giddy smile pulls at my lips. “And?”
He shrugs and dips a hand into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and dangling them between us, and I look up and take in the big white house with double doors and a glamorous porch.
“Just like this house that I want to buy for us. Fucking perfect.”