Chapter 24 Jesse
Jesse
NOW
“You know you can look at me.” It’s like I barked a command to one of my dogs, the way her eyes snap to mine, startled. I almost feel bad.
“I know, but you have to admit, this is weird,” she replies, easing the slightest bit into the driver’s seat as I watch my motorcycle grow smaller in the rearview mirror.
I’d much rather have her arms tightly around me as she straddled the back of the bike while we cruised into town, but there was no way I was winning that battle.
It’s winter, I am not getting on a bike, Jesse Rivers!
“What’s weird?” I grab onto the oh-shit bar. I wonder if anyone’s ever told her that she drives like she’s fleeing a crime scene.
“That we’re driving through Wilmington…together… in my car!” She laughs, stealing a look at me. My whole body gets a shiver from one look.
“I feel like you’re not real,” she adds.
Something in Penny shifted at the grave site, and I just hope I can keep her open, keep her talking. I need this version of Penny, the one who’s beginning to show herself to me again. The one who makes me think that maybe a second chance isn’t completely impossible.
“I think that’s what it’s like…” I pause, wondering how she’ll react if I say what’s really on my mind.
But screw it, I’m done dancing around the truth with her.
That’s what I came back for, didn’t I?
“I think that’s what it’s like when you’re seeing someone for the first time in a long time.” I finish my thought, and she tilts her head side to side.
A song comes on the radio, interrupting us. It’s an angst-filled love song by an old emo band I haven’t heard in forever. Penny quickly reaches out to change it, but I grab her hand.
“Keep it, I like this song.”
She pulls her hand back, fingers wrapping around the steering wheel tightly, like I stung her.
I stretch back, avoiding touching her, desperately needing more leg room in this tiny car. Testing if she’ll listen to me, I turn up the stereo a notch and glance over at her.
Penny’s hair isn’t sleek and styled like it was when she first got here earlier this week. It’s wavy and wild, cascading down her back, like how she used to wear it when we were teenagers. Like she just got off the beach. Or like I just finished running my hands through it.
“Why’d you go to turn it off anyway?” I inquire, and her pale cheeks redden as she whips the car sharply into a parking lot.
Yeah, I should’ve driven.
“I didn’t want to hear it,” she replies promptly, parking roughly between two spots and turning toward me.
I crack a small laugh and lean my head back, peering at her. “Or was it because you remember when I fucked you in the backseat of your car on graduation night to this song?”
Penny’s jaw drops, and she shoves my shoulder with all her might.
“You’re unhinged!” She feigns offense, as if she doesn’t have a much dirtier mind and mouth. She might fool everyone with her sweet appearance and wardrobe of pink, but I know the real Penny.
“I’m just wondering.” I shrug, unable to hide my cocky smirk. “I mean, that’s what I think about when I hear it.”
A little grunt sounds from her, her lips pursing as she fidgets with her seatbelt.
I give her five seconds to come up with an insult to hurl back at me, but she remains flustered. Out of mercy, I crawl out of this tiny vehicle.
Penny steps out, too, and the tiniest scowl remains on those pink pouty lips.
“Don’t make me regret inviting you along for my errands,” she says, pointedly looking at me over the top of her toy-sized car.
I glance up to see that we’re at a store called Sunshine Baby. “I think I’m the one who might be regretting saying yes.”
Penny rounds the car to grab my arm roughly, her touch startling me. “Let’s go. I want to see if they have a crib.”
“Wait—” I stop in my tracks, and Penny sulks, pulling on my outstretched arm. My mind short-circuits from the warmth of her hand on my wrist. “I thought you were totally against this whole Fia having a baby thing.”
“I’m not against it.” She pops her hip, free hand resting on it. “I simply want to make sure she is as prepared as she can be.”
“And that means…”
“It means if Fia won’t prepare, then I will do it for her. I’m going to surprise her with a crib for Christmas and a few other essentials.”
I crinkle my brow at her, still not getting it. Sounds like my stubborn girl is having a change of heart.
She huffs. “Anyway, when I sell the house, she can take a crib with her. I’m not helping her nest.”
“Right.” I let her continue to pull me to the front doors.
It’s like walking into a lullaby—soft music, the smell of flowers, pastel everything, and aisles lined with labels that scream organic baby and Montessori-approved.
I’m completely out of place, and from the stares I’m getting, I can’t tell if the women want to climb me or call security.
Either way, I trail behind Penny like I’m on a leash.
She stops short in front of a crib, and I catch her too late, bumping into her. My hand lands on her ass—snug in those tight jeans—and I don’t move it fast enough. The heat spikes between us, but she doesn’t say a word.
“This is it!” she says matter-of-factly, spinning to face me. “This is what I want.”
I reach over to lift the display tag and get a better look at the crib model. Though I have no clue what I’m supposed to be looking for.
The tag may as well read organic sugar-free vegan wood.
“Is this a good one?” I scratch my head, and Penny nods.
“It’s a convertible bassinet, which means she can keep it near her bed until the baby starts rolling, or is about four months, and then it converts to a full crib, then a toddler bed. It’s really the Rolls-Royce of non-toxic infant beds.”
I tilt my head. “Huh. You know a lot about this.”
“Is it a crime to want my niece to have the safest crib? I’m never having kids, so this is my chance to spoil one.”
I throw my hands up. “Whatever you say, Aunt Penny.”
She leans down to look at the tag, and her hair gets caught on a display of wooden rings. Teethers?
“Shit, my hair is tangled!” she whispers, but before she can full-blown panic, I step behind her and attempt to free her locks.
My belt buckle brushes up against her shoulder as I lean over her. She glances up at me, silent, and I’m close enough to see her lips part slightly, her breathing hitch as I roughly whisper, “Stop moving, Pen, you’re making it worse.”
My biceps are boxing her head in when I finally get it unstuck from her hair…and right in time for an employee to round the corner.
“Can I help you two?” The worker plasters a dramatic smile on her face. “My name is Linda!”
Without missing a beat, I pull Penny to her feet and nod toward the convertible crib or whatever the hell she said it was. “Do you have this one in stock?” I ask.
“Yes, we have one left in the backroom, but it’s in birch, not walnut like the display.”
Penny grins. “That’s perfect. That’s the one we want.”
The woman takes out a scanner and types in a few things.
“Can you deliver it by Christmas Eve, assembled?” Penny asks, and Linda makes a face.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry. We can’t assemble it by then. But we can deliver it in the box first thing Monday morning.”
Penny’s smile falls slightly. “Oh dang—”
“Monday’s good,” I cut in before she could change her mind.
She looks up at me, eyes narrowing just a fraction, her wild hair brushing against my chest.
“I can build it, sweetheart,” I assure her, and Penny’s brows rise.
Monday is Danny’s visitation day—the one I’m supposed to magically bring Penny to. Maybe building this crib will buy me points with her.
“Oh, how sweet!” the saleswoman practically squeals. “I love seeing couples working together before the baby comes!”
Penny shudders.
To add insult to injury, I ruffle her blonde hair.
She’s going to murder me, but she made it too easy.
“Let me go check on that, but feel free to shop around and I’ll meet you up at the checkout when you’re ready,” Linda says.
I wrap an arm protectively over Penny’s chest from behind and pull her close, landing a kiss on the top of her head. “We appreciate it, Linda.”
As soon as we’re alone again, Penny whirls around, ducking under my arm, pink lips hanging open.
“Did you hit your head last night?” she hisses at me.
I grin. “Come on, Pen, you’re telling me you don’t like a little role play?”
She nudges my shoulder hard. “Yeah, sexy role play, like a slutty librarian. Not mom and dad,” she replies, and my body clenches in all the wrong places.
“Noted.” I wink at her.
She smirks. “Well, jokes on you, sweetheart, because you’re going to spend your Monday night building that crib for me.”
I shrug, unbothered. “Cool, I had nowhere else to be.”