Chapter 19
19
Janie
"WHY DOES YOUR face look so weird?" Mariah tipped her head, eyes squinting as Janie pulled on the chef's jacket she wore while working at The Inn. "Did you get Botox?"
Janie snorted, buttoning up the front of the double-breasted white coat. "Yeah. Because I have so much extra money to throw around."
Mariah winced. “Sorry.”
As one of the closest friends she'd ever had, Janie had told Maria all kinds of things she'd never shared with anyone else. She knew about her money struggles. Her man struggles. Her period issues.
Well... She hadn't shared those things with anyone else until Devon managed to worm his way under her cold, hard shell.
And also her panties.
Mariah gasped, pointing at her. "You just smiled. That's why your face looks funny. Yo u don't look like you want to stab someone."
Was that really how she looked in the morning? Grumpy, sure. But stabby?
"I had extra coffee this morning." She went to the sink to wash up, scrubbing her forearms and hands before drying off and reaching for a pair of the disposable gloves they wore when prepping. "But if you keep giving me shit, all the caffeine in the world won't keep me from looking like I want to stab somebody again."
Coffee was not the most likely culprit behind her improved morning mood, but that wasn't information she was ready to unload on her friend. Not yet. What happened between her and Devon the night before still felt too fresh. Too new. Too raw.
And it felt private. Which was weird. She and Mariah had shared plenty about their sexual conquests, but last night wasn’t a conquest. And if she thought about it too hard, she’d start to panic over what it actually was.
"Touchy, touchy." Mariah's face split into a wide smile. "That's the Janie I know and love."
Mariah was one of the few people unfazed by her temperament. The younger woman didn't take shit personally. She didn't expect Janie to be something she wasn't. That's part of why Janie moved to Moss Creek when Mariah told her about the job at The Inn. If there was anyone in this world she didn't mind being around, it was Mariah.
As luck would have it, she accidentally crossed paths with Dianna—the owner of The Baking Rack—soon after her arrival, finding another p erson who took her as she was. They'd had a little bit of a tumultuous start, but once they were over the hump, Dianna moved into the second place spot of people she didn’t mind being around.
But now that podium was starting to get a little crowded, and Mariah had a little competition for her first place spot.
"At any rate, I'm glad you didn't come in looking miserable this morning. I know the beginning of your period is always tough for you." Mariah started cracking eggs into a huge stainless-steel bowl. “I’m glad this one isn’t hitting you as hard.”
Her periods were infamous among the people she knew and worked with. There was no hiding the way they affected her—and ultimately, everyone around her. “Me too. Hopefully last month was just a fluke and things won’t go back to the way they used to be.”
“I hope so.” Mariah shot her a sympathetic look as she continued cracking eggs. “I hated seeing you suffer and not being able to do anything to help.”
“There’s not much that can be done.” She’d tried just about everything over the years. Spent more than a few nights in the ER over the pain and sympathetic reactions from the organs unlucky enough to be in the same area code as her misbehaving uterus. “I’m just glad I haven’t had bladder spasms again.” They were the final straw that led to the surgery Devon saw evidence of the night before.
Her stomach clenched, belly flipping at the memory of how he bru shed his lips over her scars. Had a man ever been so sweet to her? Had anyone?
No. They hadn’t. And part of that was probably her fault. She didn’t give off sweet vibes. Just bitter, cynical ones.
"I know you tried just about everything there is, but I read an article the other day about how orgasms are actually great at helping to relieve cramps." Mariah paused. "I know your cramps aren't normal cramps, but every little bit might help."
"Interesting." It was something she'd actually heard before, but the thought of letting anyone near her lower half this time of the month had her vagina sealing itself off. Usually.
Normally she would never attempt to have sex the day before her period was set to start. Everything from her belly button down was gearing up to be a complete bitch, and having some guy cram his dick up in there didn't feel the tiniest bit pleasurable.
But she'd wanted so much to be close to Devon last night. To share something intimate. And thank goodness she had. Because, holy cow. Not only had Devon gone down on her like a champ, but he didn't just think about himself when it came time to actually fuck. He genuinely wanted her to enjoy herself too, and was willing to think outside the box to make it happen.
Technically, he was also thinking inside the box.
And she'd gotten off twice because of it.
Was that why she didn't have a uterus shaped monster trying to claw its way out o f her body this morning? The theory was worth considering.
"Speaking of orgasms." Collecting one of the day-old loaves of bread from the counter, she used a serrated knife to begin cutting it into bite-size pieces for the savory egg casserole Mariah had planned for breakfast. "How are things going with the baby cowboy?"
"Okay, I guess." Mariah dropped a whisk into the bowl of eggs and began stirring them together. "He's been kind of busy this week, so I haven't gotten the chance to talk with him much." There was something off in her tone. An edge that made it seem like there was more to this story.
Janie scowled down at the bread as she sawed through it. “What in the hell does he have to do that’s keeping him so busy?”
Mariah shrugged.
“Does he have kids?” Janie’s good mood was starting to dissipate. “A house to maintain? Is he taking college classes? Has he started volunteering at a homeless shelter?” All would be reasonable explanations for why a man might not have a ton of spare time. But even then they’d still be excuses. The same kind of excuses she’d accepted for years. “If a man wants to see you, he makes it happen.” Devon had all kinds of things eating up his time, and he still found room to see her.
Mariah was silent beside her, jaw tense as she chopped through a pile of mushrooms.
Janie didn’t want to upset her friend further, but for the first time in her life, she had useful advice to offer. “If he wanted to, he wou ld.” She’d faced down enough men who didn’t want to be in her life, and if she could save her friend from the same fate, she would. “If you’re important, he’ll find a way to spend time with you.”
Mariah’s next chop is a little more aggressive. “So what you’re telling me is, I haven’t been important to any of the guys I’ve ever been with.” She hacked through another mushroom cap. “Because if that’s true, it would suck a bag of dicks.”
She’d had a similar sort of revelation before coming to Moss Creek. With one difference. “I’m sure there were some who wanted to be up your crack.” Janie blew out a breath. “But if your luck is anything like mine, they were probably asshats.”
Mariah snorted. “Even the asshats don’t want to spend time with me, I guess.” She swiped the pile of mushrooms into a waiting pan, the sizzling scent of them browning filling the kitchen in just a few seconds. “I just thought that was how men are now. They expected us to chase them.”
“You shouldn’t have to chase anyone. You are fucking awesome.” Janie turned to her friend. “If a man can’t see that, he’s too stupid to waste your time on anyway.”
Mariah gave her a sad smile. “Thanks.”
It was a hard lesson to learn, but if she could spare Mariah the years of frustration and broken hearts she’d suffered through, it would be worth the pain she saw in her friend’s eyes now. “I’m not trying to shit on your show. I just want you to be with someone who treats you like the fucking queen you are.”
Mari ah barked out a single, sharp laugh. “Right. I’m pretty sure I’m more like a decently paid Cinderella.”
Janie leaned into Mariah’s side, giving her a grin. “Don’t forget that Cinderella ended up with Prince Charming.”
“Who couldn’t even remember what she looked like so he had to rely on a freaking shoe to identify her.” Mariah shook her head. “I feel like that’s worse than a man not making me a priority.”
“Good point.” Janie went back to cutting chunks of bread. “What was the guy from Snow White’s name?”
Mariah lifted a brow. “The one who found a dead chick in a glass casket in the woods and his first thought was to kiss her?”
Janie cringed. “Someone at Disney is really into dead moms and toxic men.”
“I wouldn’t have any of them.” Mariah wiggled her brows, perking up a little. “Maybe The Beast. But only if he stayed a beast.”
“He did have a pretty nice library.” Janie pursed her lips. “You’d have to overlook an awful lot of kidnapping though.”
Maria laughed, still looking a little bummed, but better than she was. “I think I just like grumpy, growly men.” She thought for a second. “Maybe that’s the problem with this guy. He’s not sour enough.”
“The problem with this guy is he’s too stupid to know a good thing when he sees it.” Janie blew out a breath. “To be fair, that’s the problem with about ninety-nine percent of the men I’ve come across.”
Mari ah turned to her, brows lifted. “Not one hundred percent?”
Janie turned away, going back to her task, hoping Mariah didn’t catch the heat creeping across her cheeks. “I figured I’d leave room for error.”
She hadn’t planned to tell Mariah about what was happening between her and Devon before, but she sure as hell couldn’t tell her now. It would be a dick move. Especially since Devon was so different from the asshole ranch hand Mariah should have never fucked with.
Luckily it seemed like Mariah was done with the conversation and she changed the subject. They spent the rest of the morning in idle chat, making breakfast for The Inn’s visitors. Once everything was assembled, Janie packed up and headed out, going home to eat a quick lunch before her shift at The Baking Rack.
She was piled up on her sofa, a heating pad on her belly and an ice pack on her back, watching episode three of a crime documentary while a bowlful of leftover spaghetti heated in the microwave. The appliance beeped, signaling the end of the process right as someone knocked on her door.
It took a second to unwind the blanket covering her lap and detangle from the heating pad cord. She was barely halfway across the small room when the door cracked open.
“J?”
Janie smiled, quickly pressing down the expression as she closed the distance to her door, swinging it wide to reveal Devon standing on her porch looking damn delectable in jeans and a thick, pla id flannel layered over a Henley. She lifted a brow at him. “Now you’re just coming into my house?”
“I didn’t come in.” He crossed the threshold, negating his statement. “And do I need to remind you that you have a key to my place?”
“Is that your way of asking for a key to mine?” The question brought an odd feeling to her gut. One that didn’t sit right and had nothing to do with the cramps beginning to rev their engines.
The reason behind the uncomfortable twinge had to do with knowing any key she might give him wouldn’t be useful long. It didn’t sound like she’d be living there much longer since Sharon planned to sell the place out from under her.
And she hadn’t told him. If it was simply a thing between her and her landlord, maybe it wouldn’t feel as bad, but Devon’s connection to Sharon meant the information would affect him.
His girls.
And she was keeping it from him. Just like he’d kept Sharon’s identity as his mother-in-law from her.
No. Not just like. If she believed him—and maybe she did—he’d forgotten to bring it up.
She wasn’t forgetting.
“It is not.” Devon looped one arm around her waist, pulling her close. “It is my way of letting you know you can use your key whenever you want.”
It was the kind of thing she’d always wanted. A man to invite her into his world. Make her a part of it without prompting or negotiations. She’d c hased this for years and now that it was happening, all she wanted was to pretend it wasn’t.
“What are you doing here?” Thinking of letting herself into Devon’s house for any reason other than the cleaning he’d basically hired her to do made her chest tight, and the last thing she needed was body parts seizing up. “I thought you had to help your dad get his snow blower running?”
When he’d told her he’d be busy today a little part of her was relieved. She needed time to figure out what was going on between them. What was going on inside her. If they were as real as she wanted to think they were.
The conversation with Mariah took her already lifting hopes and sent them soaring. Had her thinking she’d finally found someone different. Someone who wanted her the way she wanted him.
But was that really true? Or was she once again seeing what she wanted to see?
It was what she needed to figure out, but thinking when Devon was around could be damn near impossible.
Like it was now.
He bumped the door shut, keeping her close as he kicked off his work boots. “I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. See if you needed my magical cramp cure.” He dug into one pocket, pulling out a bag of M&Ms. “And I thought you might need some chocolate.”
She nearly groaned at the thoughtfulness he brought with him. “You really know the way to a girl’s heart.”
“Not true.” A smile curved his lips as he brushed them across hers in an almost kiss. “I know the way to your heart.” His big hands slid to rest against her lower back, their heat sinking through her clothes, warming the ice-chilled skin beneath it. “Hmmm. Feels like you’ve been implementing part of my cramp cure already.”
“I will grudgingly admit the ice and heat combination helps quite a bit.” She looped one arm around his neck, letting herself relax into his embrace. “The chocolate won’t hurt either.”
She wanted this to be real. Wanted Devon to be all he appeared. More than that, she wanted to be who she was when he was around. He made her feel less like a failure. Less like the mess she’d done her best to embrace. Like maybe she was done fucking up. Like maybe she was done ruining everything she touched. Like maybe she was worth his time. Worth his effort.
Wort h being loved.