Chapter 24
Jett couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
After Trask had shut her down just a few days earlier, she’d thought they were done. Even when she’d convinced herself—because of his hard cock—that he was as excited as she was over their brief encounter, she’d figured his pride wouldn’t allow him to relent and pick things back up.
Which is why she’d ended up sending so many verbal zingers his way, keeping things light and sexy.
She’d been hoping to make him see that life and relationships didn’t always have to be dead-serious.
And it seemed like she’d succeeded.
Score one for team Jett.
She did a little touchdown dance, then laughed at herself.
Yup. Her humor was clearly helping the uptight man rediscover the capriciousness she’d known he had inside him. But as a bonus, it also let her tap into her own feminine powers, which she’d been doubting in her long-standing, man-drought.
How did she know that Trask was letting his hair down and reconnecting with an old part of himself?
Simple.
He couldn’t possibly grow up with goofballs like Spence and Buck in his life—she didn’t know his other brothers yet, but assumed they were all pretty much cut from the same cloth—without getting some of that irreverence for himself.
Trask had just tucked that part of his persona away for so long, he’d forgotten where he kept it.
Jett had made him dig deep to locate his amusement-gene, and it was now bubbling up, almost out of control, like a geyser of liquid gold.
“Happy to be of service, Trask,” she said out loud to herself as she searched the refrigerator and cabinets to see what was available there for ingredients.
Ellen Sothard had told her to make herself at home, and eat whatever she wanted while she continued to talk to herself.
“Your brothers won’t be able to make up any more grump-words about you if you keep this up. ”
They’d pout, but secretly—she knew—they’d cheer.
Jett began pulling items from the refrigerator, the freezer, and the pantry, mumbling to herself the entire time as was her habit.
Although she pretended for others that she was simply keeping up a conversation for her dogs, she knew herself well enough to admit that she often spoke her thoughts out loud.
And what was the big deal? She liked it.
Jett giggled. She wondered how nuts Trask would think she was, once he caught on to that little foible of hers?
She’d soon find out.
“Okay. First, I’ll defrost the shrimp.”
She’d found a bag in the freezer of what could only be a local catch, and once she’d ascertained that the crisper—or produce drawer as she’d found people from other parts of the country called it—held a nice, fresh bunch of baby bok-choy, she’d decided on a stir-fry.
It was her luck that the pantry also provided some wide rice noodles and a bottle of soy sauce. Adding those to her pile, she placed the bag of shrimp in cold water, and went to search out spices.
Jett would need ginger and cayenne pepper.
She found them in a cupboard that was arranged alphabetically with everything from Anise to Wasabi.
Jett hoped Trask liked his food spicy, because that was what he was getting.
Half an hour later, after pacing nervously for most of that time, she checked the shrimp, and they had thawed.
She went about peeling and deveining them over the sink, which was a supremely comforting task.
Jett had grown up preparing seafood, and it always calmed—as well as fed—her New-England-bred soul.
She was just finishing up when the house gave a mighty creak.
She didn’t so much as blink. Like her father’s home, this place was old enough to be post and beam construction, which always swayed slightly with the wind like a well-built ship, so she wasn’t worried.
Glancing outside, Jett could see that the wind had picked up significantly, and the snow was now coming down almost sideways.
She hoped Trask was getting closer. If he and her dogs weren’t traveling right now, she’d be enjoying the hell out of this weather without reservation.
There was nothing better than a good winter storm.
Except for…
A good winter storm with a fire crackling in the fireplace.
And sex in front of that fire.
Just like any good antique farmhouse, the Sothards’ happened to have one right in their country kitchen, which would work for everything but the sex. A wooden floor might mean splinters in her ass. A definite deal-breaker.
Checking the clock, Jett washed her hands once she had the shrimp prepped, and saw that she had time to get a blaze going.
Again, she didn’t hesitate, because fire-building was another of her A+ skills. She’d learned how to make one at an early age, both in the house and camping; how to get the kindling to paper ratio correct, and when to add logs so that the base layer wouldn’t go out.
Looking around, though, she didn’t see the supplies she needed, other than a lighter on the mantle. And dammit, the hearth was swept clean. Maybe there was a problem with the flue, and it wasn’t safe to make a fire?
She decided to call Ellen.
“Hi, Jett,” the woman answered. “How are things holding up?”
“Great on this end. And I heard from Trask a while ago. He’s on his way and taking it slowly so he’ll be safe.”
“That’s good to hear.” She could hear the relief in Ellen’s voice. “You never stop worrying about your kids, even when they’re old,” she laughed. “And even though I know Trask has been in a lot of dangerous situations while he was in the Marines, I still can’t quite let go.”
“That’s because you’re a great mother,” Jett returned easily. “I can see that with the way you talk about all of your boys, and the way you and Guy are still so involved in their lives. I love that. For you and for them.”
“Why thank you, Jett. Now, I’m sure this call wasn’t just to stroke my ego, so what can I do for you?”
Jett didn’t hesitate. “I thought I might make a fire, but looking at how clean everything is, I wasn’t sure if the fireplace in your kitchen is operable.”
Ellen laughed. “It’s clean because we had the chimney sweep out to take care of it right before the season started. And we haven’t had any fires this winter because it’s been so unseasonably warm. Until now. Which means it’s all set for you. Enjoy.”
“Great,” Jett enthused. “Do you have a woodpile?”
“Indeed, we do,” Ellen assured her. “As well as everything else you’ll need.
There’s newspaper in the breezeway recycling, there’s a big box of kindling on the back porch, and we have wood stacked in the basement.
Down the stairs and to the left.” There was a moment’s hesitation.
“You, uh, do know how to build a fire, don’t you? ”
Jett laughed. “I’ve been doing it practically since I could walk. And during deployments, the team always put me in charge of it, because they said I could make fire from a hank of hair and a rock.”
Ellen laughed. “Well, I don’t think you’ll have to be quite that creative to get one going in our fireplace. It actually works really well. You’ll find that since the house isn’t air tight, the chimney has a great draft. So build a fire and have fun.”
“I will,” Jett replied, then thought to ask. “How are things going with you? Is everything okay there?”
“It is. Guy, who can’t sit still for a minute, has already been out twice to clear off the porch, and my mother-in-law is currently making us a lovely smelling seafood chowder, with her homemade bread in the oven.”
“That sounds awesome,” Jett told her. “I’m making a stir-fry for me and Trask using the shrimp that was in your freezer. I hope you don’t mind,” she added.
“Not at all. That’s what it’s there for. As I told you before, feel free to use or eat anything that strikes your fancy. Trask has an enormous appetite, so keeping him full is an undertaking, but it also makes him happy.”
Jett knew about one of Trask’s appetites that made him happy, and as soon as they were finished with dinner, she was going to do her best to satisfy that craving.
But first things first.
“Speaking of Trask, he should be here within the hour, so I’m going to say goodbye now, make a fire, and get cooking. I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets in so you won’t worry,” Jett assured her.
“Thank you so much, Jett. For everything. And I hope I’m not overstepping here, but I hope things work out between you and my eldest. He’s been alone and set in his ways for so long, that he’s missing out on so much.
I can already see that you’re good for him.
There’s a definite spark between the two of you. ”
“I appreciate the compliment, Ellen, but…”
Should she be open with Trask’s mother?
Why not.
“…any possible relationship I might have with Trask is all up to him. I’m attracted to him, for sure, and I’m not hiding how I feel. So, it’s his move whether he takes me up on seeing where things can go, or if he decides that I’m too much to handle.”
Lord knows, she’d been told that she was a source of annoyance so many times in her life, that she should be used to it by now. But with Trask, it would definitely hurt if he decided to jettison her.
Ellen continued. “I was witness to how he looked when he found out you’d left the other night without telling him.
He’d clearly been caught off guard, and he wasn’t happy.
But on top of that, he seemed…confused. Like he was lost for what to do next.
And of course, we know what he ended up doing this morning.
Despite the weather moving in, and despite the fact that Trask always plays things carefully and by the book.
He wouldn’t normally have taken a trip with a snowstorm coming.
But he was so worked up that he had to go to you.
That, in my mind, clearly counts toward him liking you a little more than casually. ”
“I hope you’re right,” Jett returned. “Because I’ve never met anyone quite like him, and I’d like a chance to see if we fit.”
“Don’t give up,” Ellen told her.
“I won’t.”
They said their goodbyes, and Jett regrouped.
She might have had to swipe a little wetness from her eyes, but she wasn’t going to make this a pity-party.
The hour until Trask got home was going to go by both quickly and slowly.
Quickly because of the myriad of tasks she’d set out for herself, and slowly because the same old questions about Trask’s interest kept rising up in her troubled brain, even as she went to gather fire-making supplies.
Yes. Trask liked her. At least it seemed that way. But in what capacity? Was it simply chemistry as she’d speculated? The physical pull they felt between them was pretty spectacular.
Or could it be more?
Could she push the needle and make it be more?
Jett found all the paper, wood, and kindling right where Ellen had told her it would be, and once she’d amassed it all on the hearth, she knelt to her task, opening the flue and laying things out.
Making a fire was easy.
Putting dinner on the table was also a no-brainer.
Interacting with Trask, however?
An uphill battle. But it wasn’t like Jett to put a negative spin on anything. She’d always been an optimist, so she just had to believe that a relationship with Trask was possible.
She wanted it.
Badly.
The million-dollar question was, did he?