Chapter 18 Presley #2
Jace quirks an eyebrow up, staring at me like he’s trying to read my thoughts.
“How about this.” He steps in to me, wrapping an arm around me loosely, so our little family…
errr, party of three, is huddled together.
“We’ll take a boy trip, going on a hayride, hitting up the fishing derby that Ewan has set up, maybe hit up some more trucks along the way, and then we’ll meet you over at the haunted house. Give you some girl time.”
Girl time? I don’t even know what that is. But not having to go on the hayride sounds glorious.
“Sure.” I take the caramel apple from Otis, moving three pieces to a napkin, and hand it back to him. “That’s all you get. And share with Jace.”
“Okay, Mama.”
I give him a quick kiss, ready to send them on their way, but Jace doesn’t move. Instead, he stands there, looking at me expectantly.
“Where’s mine?” he asks, one side of his mouth upturned. I roll my eyes, ready to give in, when Otis chimes in.
“Kiss him, Mama.”
I stop, head whipping to the little voice giving me instructions. Instructions I never imagined coming from him, of all people. The last thing I need is these two ganging up on me, but at the same time, I can’t help but swoon. I can’t help but love the fact that this is my Saturday night.
“I don’t usually succumb to peer pressure,” I say, giving them both a look that I hope playfully reminds them that they can’t bully me. “But just this once.”
Pushing up on my toes, I grab onto Jace’s arm, kissing him. I hold on a beat longer than I usually would given where we are and who we’re with, enjoying the spicy taste of him. The one that lingered on my lips all weekend after our last encounter. The one that is as intoxicating as they come.
“We’ll be back soon,” Jace tells me as I pull away from them, and then he turns to go, Otis still perched on his hip, like an extension of himself.
And my heart feels like it could burst at the sight.
I spend the next half hour wandering around Newton Field, grabbing some footage for reels and chatting with a couple of colleagues who told me they’ve seen the stranger danger videos online.
I beam with pride that people are talking about them and finding them helpful, wishing that Jace was here to also hear this.
It won’t be the same coming from me. This is the kind of thing that needs to come straight from the horse’s mouth.
“Don’t tell me he did another runner,” my dad’s voice booms, stealing my attention as I pass the Southern Brothers tent.
He and my mom turn to me, both holding a beer in their hands, scanning around looking for their grandchild.
“Not tonight. At least as far as I know,” I answer, walking over to join them. “Jace took Otis for a hayride since I had no interest.”
Dad gestures, offering to buy me a beer, but I shake my head, wanting to stay clearheaded for the evening. He pays Brenna Rawlins Hayes, then leads us out of the tent.
“It nice to see you two getting along.”
We’re more than getting along…
“We’ve managed to put aside our…” I trail off, not quite sure what it is that we put aside. Our differences? Our mutual dislike of each other?
“Past?” my mother offers. Yeah, that works.
I nod, smiling. “Grown-up Jace is different.”
“I told you,” Dad says. We walk toward the haunted house, which is housed in the field house, following the increasingly creepy signs pointing the way. “And Otis is a good judge of character.”
“Maybe. He’s certainly taken with Jace.”
“And are you?” Mom asks.
Wow, way to come right out with it.
“We’re…”
“You two were in the truck for an awfully long time the other night, and he spent that whole weekend at your place—”
“Barb,” my dad warns.
Mom brushes him off. “All I’m sayin’ is that you don’t find folks like that often. Especially ones as good-looking as Jace Hayes.”
Or as good of a kisser…
I keep that addition to myself. No need to let my parents in on that knowledge. Mom was already digging for something with the truck comment. I don’t need to fuel her curiosity.
“We’re exploring a friendship.” There. That works.
“One that has benefits, I hope.”
Christ, Mother…
“Presley!” Margeaux calls as we reach the field house, saving me from having to dignify my mother’s comment with a response.
The line to get into the haunted house is a decent length, but seems to be moving pretty quickly.
Margeaux doesn’t let us join it, though, grabbing my hand and pulling us toward the table she’s manning. “Where are Woody and Buzz?”
“Are they not here yet? I figured they would be back by now.”
“I haven’t seen them, but—”
“Mama!” Otis runs up to me, doing his best to tackle me, my underskirts softening the hit to my shins. Despite his small stature, the force knocks me back a step, his giggle ringing out into the night air.
“There you are. I was wonderin’ if y’all got lost.” I kneel down, taking in his even more chocolate-smeared face, now accompanied by matching fingers. “And just how much candy have you had?”
Bouncing up and down, almost vibrating, Otis’s eyes get wide. That’s all the answer I need. Too much—that’s how much candy he’s had. I give him ten minutes at this point—maybe fifteen if we’re lucky. I wonder how easy an exit we can make.
“Uncle Antwan lemme dwive!” He continues to bounce, like an overcaffeinated squirrel, jonesing for another espresso bean.
“He let you what?!” I exclaim, ignoring the uncle part of that sentence. My heart leaps straight into my throat, mind running wild. I know they start them young around here, and kids operate all sorts of farm equipment, but Otis is three. Three! How is he even beginning to reach what’s needed?
“Dwive!”
“He got to put his hands on the steering wheel and sit in Anton’s lap,” Jace explains. “I was right next to him the whole time.”
My pulse slows, the chaotic whirlwind of my brain going with it.
That makes more sense. Frankly, I should be ashamed of myself for thinking anything else—of course that’s what they meant.
To be fair to myself though, if we’re still living here in a few years, I don’t put it past Otis to try and hijack said tractor. It’s the next level of being a runner.
“Drive…wow, buddy.”
I stand, sighing as I take in Jace. He’s relaxed, happy, and looking rather proud of himself. Looking like a—
Nope, not going to say it.
“Otis, Barb,” a sweet southern voice coos. “Oh! And Buzz Lightyear!”
“Hi!” Otis waves at Miss Belle, who is dressed as a witch, his hand moving furiously.
“You look very handsome.” Taking his hand, she leads him over to a set of three massive cauldrons, big enough for him to fit in, the two on the end smoking with dry ice. Pointing into the middle one, Miss Belle smiles. “Would you like one?”
Oh, great, more candy. Exactly what this child doesn’t need right now.
Seriously, by the looks of that bag Jace is holding, they stopped at every truck twice on the way back from the hayride.
I’m going to have to do some serious damage control and sneak this out of the house before Otis realizes what a trove he’s sitting on.
“Mama, look!” Otis reaches into the cauldron and pulls out an orange plastic egg. Just like you would see at Easter, only not pastel.
I chuckle, my body relaxing as I realize it’s not candy. A strong hand lands on the small of my back, making me ease even more, leaning into its owner.
“It’s some kind of rubber worm or spider, or maybe one of those cheapo plastic rings. I don’t know if she got those vampire teeth thingys this year or not. There are glow stick bracelets somewhere too, but she usually saves those for older kids.”
I turn, just enough to rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m just glad it’s not more sugar.”
“Oh, no. Miss Belle stopped handing out candy years ago. She used to complain that with seven kids at home, we had Halloween candy until Valentine’s.”
Otis runs back to us, now with a small can of Play-Doh in hand, but also sporting neon green plastic in his mouth that looks more like a mouthguard than teeth. I laugh, pulling him up to get a better look.
“Are you Count Buzz now?” I tease.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he imitates the Sesame Street character, making everyone laugh. He’s still on a sugar high, his pupils wide with excitement, but right now we’re okay. Maybe we will avoid a meltdown and simply crash hard at home.
That would be nice.
More importantly, the thing I can’t help but notice is that Otis ran right past my father toward Jace and me. That’s never happened. If Paps is close by, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Until now. He might be dethroned.
“Otis, care to join me in the haunted house?” Dad asks. Otis whips around to look at him, a new wave of excitement hitting him as he sees Paps. Okay, then, maybe he simply didn’t see him.
“Is that a good idea? Is it kid safe?”
“Miss Belle wouldn’t make anything that wasn’t,” he assures me.
“Hold on.” Jace lets go of me, scurrying off toward Margeaux’s table. He returns a second later, holding up a little stuffed ghost. One who looks a lot like Casper. He hands it to Otis. “Take this and hold on to him tight. As long as you’re holding him, no one inside will jump out and get you.”
Otis holds tight, pressing the stuffie to his chest. I melt, loving everything about this moment. Well, other than the idea of my three-year-old going into a haunted house.
“Maybe I should go with.”
“Nonsense. This is an Otis-only adventure. If your name isn’t Otis, you’re not allowed,” Dad says.
“What about Nana?” Mom asks, playing along. “Are people with the name Nana allowed to come?”
“Of course,” Dad adds. “Just no moms.”
I purse my lips, wanting to point out that technically, Nana also goes by Mom, depending on who is doing the talking, but I stop myself.
I need to relax. Let him have this moment with Paps.
This is why we moved here, so that he could have all these experiences, growing up in a town where everyone is family and Paps is only a shout away.
“No moms,” Otis repeats.
Message received, buddy.
“I’ll stay out here and keep Mama company,” Jace offers. “We’ll see you when you’re done.”
Otis nods, accepting that Jace will keep me safe while he’s gone, urging Paps to move faster. This is probably the most exciting night of his short life, and that makes me happier than I can say. Because this is the childhood he deserves.
I also hope that he sleeps for the next three days.
“How you doin’, Mama?” Jace whispers into my ear, tugging me into him.
His deep voice sends a shiver through me, especially with the way he says mama. Like it’s his name for me, filled with love, respect, and a carnal need, rather than mirroring my kid. I like it. A lot.
“Good.”
“Having fun?”
I twist, facing him and stealing a kiss. “You know what, I am actually. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’m really glad the cute cowboy sheriff asked us to join him.”
Jace groans, soft and low, loud enough that only I hear him. “I’m just glad you think I asked, rather than invited myself along.”
“Whichever it is, I’m happy you did. I wanted to ask you, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
“Pres,” he squeezes me, tightening his grip so his fingers dig into me slightly. The pressure feels good, making me crave more. Preferably when there isn’t so much fabric in between us. “When it comes to me, be presumptuous. Please.”
Butterflies take flight in my chest, my tummy doing somersaults. I need something just as sexy and swoony to say back to him. Something that will hopefully make him feel just as weak-kneed and fluttery as I do right now.
The buzz of my phone distracts me, pulling me out of the moment. Reaching into the collar of my dress, I yank my phone from my bra. Jace’s eyes go wide, pinned to my cleavage, the accompanying shit-eating grin exactly what I would have expected having just basically grabbed my own boob.
“This thing doesn’t have pockets,” I defend, trying to draw his attention away from my boobs.
“Had I realized that’s where you’ve been keeping that all night, I’d have sent you every picture I took of Otis on that tractor.”
I shake my head, laughing as I look at my phone. My mom’s name appears next to the text notification.
Mom
Haunted house too much for little O, meltdown in progress.
My heart leaps, worry taking over. Right as another message whooshes into the chat.
Mom
We’ve got him. Sleepover at Nana and Paps tonight. You stay and have fun. Adult fun
Only my mother…
“What is it?” Jace asks.
I turn the phone so he can read the messages. Scanning the screen, his eyes move swiftly, lighting up like a Christmas tree when he gets to the winky face.
“Have I told you how much I like your mom?” He laughs. “She’s team Woody.”
I throw my head back, barking out a laugh. “What if I told you I am too?”
Waggling his eyebrows, Jace’s eyes go dark. A deep, rich chocolate that would rival any one of the candy bars given out tonight.
“Then I’d say it’s time we went home and used our adults only time wisely.”