Chapter 12 #2
Slapping my hand to my chest, the soup in the bowl slopped around a bit, and I swooned. “Oh, Bax, the things you say to a girl.”
He chuckled. “But hockey’s still better.”
Dropping my hand, I rolled my eyes.
“This is a fundamental difference between the two of us then, huh? Insurmountable?”
“Yes, although I do condone your love of a Chicago team. Chicago football is my favorite.”
“Oh, the ‘Superbowl Shuffle,’” he said. “Is that your theme song?”
“Yes! That’s what I grew up on. It was before my time, of course, but my dad used to sing it and dance around the house.”
“Did you live in Chicago? I thought you said you grew up in North Carolina.”
“No,” I said, trying not to let memories of my dad overwhelm me. I tried not to think about him at all if I could help it. “I’ve never lived there, but my dad’s family came from Chicago. He lived there as a boy, so Chicago was his team too.”
“That’s why I love hockey. My dad loved it. My best childhood memories are with us all around the TV, watchin’ a game. That was before the farm started failin’ and before he and Abey had a fallin’ out.”
“They did?”
“Yeah. He basically disowned her when he found out she was gay.”
“That’s awful,” I said as I fed him another spoonful. “How did she handle that?”
“Mm.” He swallowed, and just like the first night we’d met up in Sheridan, I found myself fixating on his Adam’s apple as it bobbed.
He needed a shave, but my body heated and I blushed when I realized it, because the stubble covering his upper lip, chin, and cheeks had helped to give me the best orgasm I’d had in a long time.
“She might not agree, but I think she handled it with grace. She worked her ass off in school and then at her job as a deputy. The whole town of Wisper loves her, and they’re proud of her.
I hope she knows that. I hope it gives her back some of the love our dad took away.
“Every mornin’ when I wake up, I make a conscious decision to be a better man than he was.”
I smiled at that. I knew a little something about bad family legacies. It was the reason I never touched alcohol or medication.
“What about your mom?”
“Ah. Mervella Lee.” He tsked his tongue.
“She was brought up to obey and defend her husband no matter what. I don’t think she wanted to cut Abey out of her life, but while my dad was still alive, things between them were…
difficult. After he died, our mama tried everything she could to avoid the subject, but Abey finally forced her to face it last year. ”
“Brand mentioned that.”
He scoffed. “Does my brother spill all our family secrets? What a gossip.”
“No, he doesn’t. It’s just that when he found out Abey stood up to your mom, he was really proud of her. I think he just needed to tell someone.”
“Well anyway, Abey and Devo got together and fell in love, and everything changed for Abey then.” He looked at me.
“You know? She couldn’t accept the status quo anymore because Devo deserved better, and Abey finally decided she did too.
Merv put up her usual fight, but I guess she decided learnin’ to live with Abey’s sexuality was a better option than losin’ her only daughter forever. ”
“Wait. You call your mama Merv?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but only when we wanna piss her off. Make sure you do it too.”
“Okay.” I laughed. “Like she doesn’t already hate me, but she seems to favor you.”
“You noticed her icy reception earlier?” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t think she favors me. She loves all her sons the same, even though Dixon doesn’t deserve it most of the time. But she defers to me ’cause I’m the oldest male in the family.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, like I said, it’s how she was raised, but it’s pretty fucked up. If she was smart, she’d look to Brand for answers. He’s the one who has life all figured out.”
“Is that why she barely looked at me earlier today?”
“Probably. Plus, you’re a woman in a”—he imitated quotations with two fingers up in the air, then dropped his hand into his lap—“man’s job.
You should hear the shit she still says to Abey about her job as the deputy sheriff.
” He opened his mouth for the next spoonful as I held it to his lips.
He swallowed, then smiled and said, “This is really good, Bea.”
“Thanks.” Why was one little compliment from him making butterflies erupt in my stomach like they’d just snorted cocaine?
“Who taught you to cook?”
“My mama, I guess, before she died. But honestly, I don’t know if I even remember any of that. My dad was hopeless after she passed, so things like laundry and cookin’ fell to me.”
“That wasn’t fair. You were just a girl.”
“Fair or not, it’s what happened. By the way,” I said, “I admire how you care for Athena.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t admire me for that. I’m a shit dad.”
“You are not. You two are so close. You know her so well. I loved my dad. Worshipped him, really, but if you’d asked him what my favorite color was or what classes I loved in school, he couldn’t have answered. He was too wrapped up in his grief until the day he died.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching over to sweep a lock of hair behind my ear so he could see me better. “Tell me your favorite color.”
“No, I shan’t,” I teased. “Before I leave to go back to Sheridan, you tell me. Let’s see if you can figure it out.”
He smiled and said, “Okay, challenge accepted. And just to be clear, I think it’s hot.”
“What, the soup?” I asked around a mouthful, which was really good. I’d have to remember to write down all the spices I’d added.
My little cabin kitchen had been stocked surprisingly well, with a few pots and pans and the olive oil, rosemary, and ginger I’d needed, but when we’d stopped at the store to get chicken stock, I grabbed veggie stock instead, sage, and garlic.
The soup was creamy and rich and perfect for a cool fall night.
“No,” Bax said, “your job and the fact that you’re really damn good at it.”