Chapter 19
Les crashed into the kitchen through the back door.
“Is that how you walk into my kitchen?” Connie barked out without ever looking up.
Immediately cowed, Les dropped his gaze to the floor. “Sorry.” This was her domain, and he had crossed a line. Was his lowering of his eyes out of respect or some reaction of the wolf in him, acknowledging her dominance?
What kind of fucking wolf was he? Tori glowed, and yet she was so obviously in a relationship with some asshole named Sam. All this time, he thought she was different. And it turned out she just needed a local hook up.
He felt like a beat puppy. Maybe that’s why his ego dropped to the floor the second Tia Connie snapped. He didn’t move, just stood there staring at the flooring. It was different.
Tia had never had a tile floor. There was a story that everyone liked to joke about, proving Connie was the true alpha of the Palatines. Apparently, when she took over the kitchen, the floor had been ceramic tile. She had that ripped out and replaced with commercial grade linoleum, much to the horror of Debs, the wife of the alpha prior to Morgan.
The last time Les had actually paid attention to the floor, he had been mopping it. This was not the same floor, and that hadn’t been that long ago.
“When did you get a new floor, Tia?” he asked.
“Oh, Les, it’s you disrespecting my kitchen?” Was her reply.
“My bad,” he grunted.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” She continued to chop a pile of vegetables.
“I should. Your floor?” He pointed to the checkerboard pattern in smokey blue and soft golden yellow colors.
“Nice, isn’t it? They put this in last week. It’s so pretty. Now, why are you here if you should be at work?” She put down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron before turning to lean on the counter.
Les still hadn’t moved, he was barely inside the kitchen, a place he considered his home. His mom wasn’t back at his abuela’s, and Tia Connie was here. He still didn’t exactly know if Mission Run was home in his heart, but his kitchen was. So why didn’t he feel any better being here?
The back of his sinuses burned. He blinked hard. The moisture of tears he didn’t want, and would never admit to, pricked along his lower lids.
“Oh, Mijo!” Connie bundled him into her arms.
Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his head on her shoulders, seeking maternal comfort.
Connie had stepped into the role of mother figure after his own died. He needed that now.
A shuddering breath racked his body making him feel like a complete chump. He hadn’t experienced an emotional loss like this in such a long time. He had thought he was immune to it. This pain in his chest was why he didn’t get involved.
Women had left him all of his life, why would Tori be different? Because he wanted her to be different? Because she glowed? The glow meant absofuckinglutely nothing. He never should have listened to Morgan.
With a sniff, Les released his hold on Connie, and stood. She reached up and brushed hair from his face.
“You going to tell me about her?” That woman didn’t miss a thing.
“What makes you think I’m upset over a woman?” Les failed at having a gruff voice, and he sounded more like a miserable teenager.
“Because, when you are upset, you typically get angry. I haven’t seen this sad in a very long time. You have heartache written all over your face. I know you, Mijo. Take off your jacket and wash your hands. Talk to me while you chop.”
“What are we making?” Les shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung in on the rack in the small space that served as an entryway to the kitchen from the back door.
He washed and pulled on an apron, wrapping the strings around his waist and tying them in the front.
Connie pointed to a box of mixed root vegetables, sweet potatoes, turnips, beets, and a couple of butternut squash. “Cube those, for me.”
Les carried the box to the large double sink and began scrubbing.
“Dinner is roasted chicken with rosemary and feta. You’re doing the roasted vegetables. There’s a mushroom risotto to prepare, and a salad.” As she spoke, she removed a tray of roasted pecans from the oven.
Les nodded. It sounded good, but he wasn’t hungry. Chopping and basic meal prep might be what he needed. It took enough focus that it might keep his mind from drifting back to Tori. She was so soft and sweet. Sweet to look at, sweet to taste. There was something delicate about her that made this betrayal feel so wrong.
If anyone had asked if Tori was the kind to string a man along, Les would have sworn she wasn’t capable. She was too honest. There was a vulnerability about her that bordered on naivety. He was the type to play the field, not her.
“Ow, fuck!” He dropped the knife as the sharp sting of the cut registered in his mind. He pressed his thumb against the bleeding cut on his finger before sucking it into his mouth.
“Let me see, how bad did you cut yourself?” Connie crossed the kitchen to him.
“It’s not bad,” he said, holding his hand out to her.
With a nod, Connie indicated he needed to go bandage his finger. Les opened the drawer with the bright blue kitchen bandages, and then wrapped one around the cut. It stung like a son of a bitch. He hissed and shook it out. Yeah, that wasn’t a good idea.
He rummaged through the drawer, looking for ibuprofen or acetaminophen.
“You’re out of pain meds,” he called out. “I’ll be right back.”
There was a closet behind the rec room where the family kept random supplies. He headed there, hoping he would find something to take down the throbbing in his finger. At least the stupid cut was keeping him distracted from thoughts of Tori. After all, he came here to maybe not have to think about how she looked this morning when he discovered the message from her other man, Sam.
“What are you doing here?” JoJo’s sharp voice caught his attention.
“Oh, hey, JoJo. I’m getting some meds to stock up the first aid drawer in the kitchen. What are you up to?”
“I’m getting a divorce, remember?” She sounded so bitter, and so beat.
Les knew that feeling well. “Yeah, Mission Run, heartbreak central. I feel you there.”
“Since when do you have a girlfriend?” JoJo snapped.
She wasn’t being particularly pleasant, but Les understood where her attitude was coming from. That pain came from unknown depths and was pervasive. It felt never ending, and he and Tori had barely been together a week. JoJo’s pain had a few years of marital bliss turned sour to harvest.
“Had, had a girlfriend.”
“Did she cheat?” JoJo was dressed in flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled into two disheveled ponytails. The dark circles under her eyes announced a serious lack of sleep, or healthy life choices.
Les felt sorry for her. She was clearly hurting, the after effects of her split up.
“Has a long distance situation.” He didn’t want to admit that he had fallen hard for Tori before he even found out if she had a boyfriend. Of course, someone like her would have a boyfriend, and that boyfriend would hold on to her no matter time or space. He knew he would have.
Fuck, probably still would too. She glowed.
“I told you, Les, you can’t trust humans.”
“Hate to break it to you, JoJo, we’re both humans.”
“I might be, but you’re not. And I was raised by wolves, so I think like them. We mate for life.”
Les set out a sardonic chuckle. “That explains why I’m here licking hurt feelings, and you’re in the middle of a divorce.”
“That’s because humans don’t mate, they just want to fuck. But the second things get serious, or they find out your older brother really isn’t. And you are rapidly running out of money…” she trailed off.
“Morgan didn’t cut you off? He’d never.” Les knew Morgan adored his little sister, even if she wasn’t ever officially adopted. Morgan could be a hard ass, and annoying, especially once he had his teeth into something, and he wouldn’t let it go.
JoJo shook her head. “No, no, he didn’t cut me off or anything like that. I still get my allowance. If he had cut me off, do you think I would have moved back in?”
Les shook his head, then shifted into a nod.
“I found out Kurt had a gambling problem. I wanted to look at getting a family car but didn’t qualify for a loan. And to be honest, we should have had enough to pay cash.”
Les’s brows lifted to his hairline.
JoJo shook her head. “Nope, dodged that bullet. But I thought we were actively trying. I mean, I was, but,” she let out a heavy sigh. “That’s a whole other issue I have to face, alone. In one big party of suck, I discovered my husband was spending my money on not one but a series of girlfriends, losing more money with online poker, and I have fertility issues.”
He wasn’t certain what to say. He had his heart broken, but JoJo had her heart broken, had been betrayed, and now faced possible medical issues.
“You want some brownies or something?” he asked.
“You baking?” She practically jumped to her feet. “Can I lick the bowl? Connie never lets me lick the bowl anymore.”
“Tia let you lick the bowl? The best I ever got was being allowed to lick the beaters.”
“That’s not so bad,” JoJo said.
“Oh sure, but they were still attached and spinning.”
JoJo laughed and smacked him on the shoulder.