17. Patrick
The pitter-patter of little feet wakes me up long before the cannonball on my bed does, but it doesn’t stop the oomph! from escaping my lips as Alex’s body lands on mine. “Rise and shine, sleepy head! Grandma made hashbrown casserole for breakfast!” he says enthusiastically.
“I’m up! I’m up!” I tell him, laughing. I snake my arm around his waist and flip him to the other side of the bed, tickling him mercilessly. His giggle can be heard down the hall because, eventually, his gorgeous mother stands in my doorway, smiling at the two of us.
“Help me! Help me!” he calls out to her, yet continuing to laugh uncontrollably. Unable to resist the siren call of a pleading child, Ariella tries to help. When she gets within arm’s reach, my free hand grabs her waist and pulls her to me. I roll her over and begin to tickle her instead. Alex, free from the assault, turns on his mother and pokes her lightly in the ribs.
“No fair!” she yells playfully.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I tease.
“And we love you lots!” Alex exclaims. After tickling her a bit more, he runs out of steam. He kisses his mother’s cheek before hopping off the bed and racing out of the room. “The last one downstairs is a rotten egg!” he shouts, not caring in the slightest that neither one of us is following him.
I cage Ariella underneath me, an elbow on each side of her head. Her breathing is rapid, and her smile is wide. I lean down and place my lips on the crook of her neck, my morning stubble causing her to giggle more. When my teeth scrape along the edge of her ear, the laughter stops and turns to a soft purr. It’s a sound I remember fondly. Slowly, I trail my lips across her delicate jawline until I reach the corner of her mouth.
“I love you, Ariella,” I say tenderly.
“I love you, too,” she says back without hesitation. Her eyes close as my lips mold to hers, my tongue tracing her lower lip and begging for entrance. I’m about to deepen the kiss and show her how much I’ve missed her when I hear Alex running back down the hall toward my room.
“Grandma told me to tell you to ‘stop the smoochin’ and get movin’!’”
Groaning, I get off Ariella and roll out of bed, wearing nothing but my sweatpants. Seeing that his job is complete, Alex runs down the hallway and stairs toward the kitchen. With my back turned, I reach for my shirt that’s folded neatly over the chair. “I’d be a gazillionaire if I could harness his energy, bottle it up, and sell it,” I joke. Expecting to hear at least a small chuckle but getting none, I look over my shoulder at Ariella to see what has her tongue-tied.
She’s sitting on the edge of my bed, her eyes dark with desire and slowly roaming my body from head to toe and back again. Her voice is husky when she says, “Now, that is a view a girl could get used to.”
I swallow hard. “Do you want to get used to it, Ari?” I ask vulnerably.
She stands up, tracing her finger over my heart. I feel as though she is branding me, the heat of her touch scorching hot. “I do, Patrick. We have much to discuss, but I want to make this work.”
I bring her hand to my lips, kissing it tenderly and reverently. “Let’s have breakfast first. It’s better to talk on a full stomach.”
Her mouth quirks up. “Don’t think you have me fooled for even one second, Mr. Kent. I remember you going on and on about your mom’s hashbrown casserole. I bet that if she had made oatmeal, you wouldn’t be making me wait to have this conversation.”
I put on my T-shirt and give her a quirky grin. “I promise you’ll agree it’s worth the wait once you take your first bite.”
We make our way downstairs and head toward the kitchen. “Mom, what can we do to help?” I ask when I see her scrambling around.
“Can you carry the casserole into the dining room, please? And no sneaking a bite on the way!”
My mom knows me all too well because I had planned on doing just that if the opportunity had presented itself. Ariella grabs the large bowl of fresh fruit while my mom brings the carafe of coffee.
Everyone is seated around the table, which is loaded with food. I make a show of looking for an empty spot to set the casserole dish, ignoring the open space in the center and placing it in front of me instead. Grabbing my fork, I ask, “Who’s ready to dig in?”
My father grabs his own fork but holds it like a weapon instead of a serving utensil. “Son, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll place the casserole dish where it belongs. Which, for the record, is not directly in front of you.” His tone is serious, but the mischievous twinkle in his eye gives him away.
As soon as my father finishes giving thanks, everyone reaches for the nearest platter to start serving themselves. Ariella’s hand on my arm captures my attention while Jerry reaches for the hashbrowns. I try not to scowl at him for beating me to the food, but I fail miserably. When he laughs, I grunt in displeasure.
Alex reminds me, “You snooze. You lose, Daddy.”
“What is so special about the hashbrown casserole anyway? You look like you’re ready to go to war over it,” Ariella questions.
I reach for the scrambled eggs, spooning some onto her plate and mine. “They’re loaded with bacon, green onion, cheddar cheese, and a sour cream base. The top layer has a bit of crunch to it, while the bottom is soft. I can’t pinpoint exactly what makes it so special, but the combination of ingredients and the perfect blend of spices is like a symphony in your mouth.”
“It’s made with love,” my mom declares.
Jerry snorts next to me. “And a lot of butter. Everything is awesome if it’s got bacon and butter.”
When the casserole dish finally makes its way back to me, I can’t help but frown. There’s only enough left for one serving, and Ariella’s plate is still hashbrown-free.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted, Grandma!” Alex announces. The groans of delight from everyone else only reinforce his words. Reluctantly accepting that I will not have any this morning, I give Ariella the last serving.
“Now that’s true love right there!” my mom hoots. “I have never ever seen my boy willingly give up his favorite food for anyone! Not even me!”
“I can share with you,” Ariella offers.
I shake my head. “Thank you, but no. A few bites would only be a tease for both of us. We would both be left wanting more; neither one fully satisfied.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she says. I can only assume by the blush on her cheeks that she’s referring to our earlier kiss. “Thank you for your sacrifice.” I watch her face as she puts a fork full of delicious goodness into her mouth. Her eyes close as she savors the flavors, groaning in pleasure. Everyone around the room is doing the same thing, rubbing it in my face and enjoying doing so.
I mumble to myself, “No good deed goes unpunished.” I must not have said it quietly enough because Ariella laughs lightly and squeezes my leg under the table.
My mother stands up and places her napkin on the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I forgot something in the kitchen.”
“You must love Mommy a lot,” Alex states.
“I do. As much as I love you!” I tell him.
“Would you give up your hashbrowns for me?”
“Without hesitation.”
“Thankfully, you don’t have to,” my mom says from behind me. She’s carrying another large casserole dish, which she sets down in front of me. My eyes widen in pure delight when I see that there’s plenty more to go around.
“Was this some kind of test?” I ask.
“Everything’s a test, Son,” my dad retorts. “But you passed this one with flying colors.”
After breakfast was over, everyone pitched in to help clean up, giving my parents a much-needed break. Unfortunately, this is a farm, and breaks don’t last long. My dad needs to tend to the horses and prune more apple trees in the orchard before spring comes.
“Can I help with the horses?” Alex asks hopefully. Although I want to wrap him in bubble wrap to protect him from the outside world, I know he needs to get outside and run around.
“As long as you stay with me or Grandpa and don’t run off. Can you promise me that?”
“Yes!”
An hour later, everyone but Jerry is bundled up and helping out with the chores around the farm. Jessie and Savannah are in the barn, brushing down the animals while Ariella and my mom feed them. Alex is helping me muck the stalls and lay down fresh hay. We’re all dirty, sweaty, and having a wonderful time.
“I need to go feed the chickens. Do you want to help me with that? If you don’t, Grandpa could use your help shoveling manure for the garden.”
The look of horror that crosses his face is priceless and I can’t help but bellow out a laugh. “I take it you’d rather help me with the chickens.” He nods fervently.
“I don’t think I’m ready to shovel poop yet, Daddy. Maybe when I’m older, like 50.”
“Yeah, Buddy. It’s not my favorite thing to do either, but it has to be done. It helps our vegetables grow nice and big.” Thankfully, my dad uses commercial fertilizer for the orchard and industrial farm equipment to spread it.
As we spread the chicken feed on the muddy ground, Alex notices an egg buried in the sodden grass. He runs over to pick it up and sees several more. “What do we do?” he asks.
“Do you see the basket hanging on the side of the chicken coop? Grab that and start collecting the eggs.” Alex does as I tell him, excited with each new find. By the time I’m done feeding the chickens, he’s collected almost two dozen eggs. It’s a sign that spring is near when the hens become productive again.
“We should take these to Grandma so she can use them for breakfast tomorrow,” he suggests.
“That’s a great idea. Let’s go do that.” We walk together back to the main house, Alex sticking by my side as promised.
No sooner are we through the door than Alex boasts about his find. “Look what we have, Grandma! Eggs! Can I help you cook them tomorrow?” he asks, handing her the basket.
“Thank you! I’d love that! Do you want to learn how to make blueberry muffins, too? Maybe your Mama can help as well.”
Alex spends the next few minutes helping my mom clean the eggs and then washing his hands afterward. Once he’s done, he rubs his hands together and asks, “What next? Can we ride the horses today?”
“I’m not sure if it’s safe to do that yet, Alex. Why don’t we talk to everyone and see what they think?” His smile doesn’t fall, but it dims a little. I text everyone, informing them of his request and asking them to meet at the barn in five minutes to share their thoughts.
“Hey, Kiddo. I hear you want to go for a horseback ride,” Jesse says when she notices our approach.
“Yeah. But Daddy isn’t sure if it’s safe enough to ride yet.”
Jerry puts his hand on Alex’s shoulder reassuringly but addresses me. “If I stay here and continue to monitor the live feeds, I can alert you the moment someone steps foot on the property. We won’t have to wait for a perimeter breach to get a warning, which should buy you enough time to leave the area and get to safety.”
My dad dangles a set of keys in front of us. “I’ll take the ATV and follow you. I can give you added protection should it be required. Plus, it will be good for the three of you to get out. Savannah can be my wingman. I hear she’s an excellent shot.”
Savannah blushes under the praise. While Jessie excels in hand-to-hand combat, Savannah is quick on the draw and doesn’t miss when it comes to handguns. Give her a rifle, and she can shoot a flea off a dog at a thousand yards.
“I’ll stay here with Jerry and your mom. Go and spend time with your family. You can never take them for granted,” Jessie says with a sad smile.
I don’t know much about Jessie’s past since she doesn’t share freely. It’s an unspoken rule for our team never to pry. However, she has let it slip on occasion that she was raised in the foster care system and even spent a year living on the streets.
I don’t hear what my dad tells her, but I watch as he wraps her in a hug. What surprises me more than anything is that she returns it. I’ve never seen Jessie show any kind of affection, but something in my heart warms at the sight of her accepting a fatherly embrace. I get the feeling that she really needed it.