“I know it’s lunch time, but brunch is good too, right?” Julia asks.
“It’s perfect,” Heaven licks his lips free of syrup.
“It’s looks delicious, thank you, but I don’t know if I can eat all of this, Owen.” She stares at the plate and now that I look at it, it does seem a bit much.
The pancakes nearly cover the width of her body.
“Just eat what you can; I’ll eat the rest,” I tell her, making my own plate. “Do you like coffee? Creamer?”
“Please, I’d love some,” she says, cutting into the fluffy pancake.
I pour some half-and-half in the mug and then pour the coffee to the rim, sliding it over to her.
“Hey, are you going to eat that?” Heaven probes his fork at her sausage, and I slap his hand with mine, beyond irritated.
“What the fuck, Heaven? You’re serious? She hasn’t eaten like she should in a year and a half. Don’t be rude.”
“What? It’s a lot of food for anyone to handle. You gave her what you eat. She isn’t a body builder. Jeez,” Heaven mumbles around his food.
I’m starting to think he’s eating his feelings.
I’m about to answer him when I hear a fork scrapping across the plate. Heaven and I look where the sound is coming from, and it is Jolie.
Who is licking her plate again.
“Damn,” Heaven says, shocked.
I’m not surprised. She did the same thing out in the woods. She must feel our gazes because mid-lick, the syrup is thick on her tongue. She brings the plate down on the counter and clears her throat. Her cheeks are ablaze, and Jolie grabs the coffee mug, wrapping her fingers the handle. “Sorry, I know I’m not ladylike. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize,” I say sternly. “You’re hungry. Manners have no home here anyway. Have you met Heaven?”
Heaven pauses from licking his fingers. “What? What did I do?”
“Case in point.” I grin at her, and she blushes. “You fit right in.”
Her long lashes flutter at her me, coy, bashful, and it makes me feel a bit shy too. Here I am, a forty-something-year-old man, acting like I’m young again.
“Hey!” Quinn’s voice is chipper, and Jolie jumps, startled from the unexpected voice. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Quinn wraps her arms around Jolie and for a second, Jolie is terrified before those emotions well up again. “I’m Quinn—Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I should have asked if I could touch you.”
I’m ready to be at Jolie’s side, but she smiles, which tells me I don’t need to worry.
“Sorry. I’m not used to hugs. I wasn’t scared, it just … it felt nice,” she admits sadly. “That’s all.”
Quinn’s chin starts to wobble, and Jaxon walks into the room right as she starts to cry.
Fuck. One woman with tears, I can handle, but two?
Help me.
“What did you do to my wife?” Jaxon rushes to her side, and Quinn shakes her head, rubbing her large belly.
“No, sorry. I’m just very emotional right now. Don’t mind me, that’s just, Jolie … that’s so sad,” Quinn sobs, turning her head into Jaxon’s chest.
He looks so lost, looking at me for help.
I lift my hands in the air, stumped.
Jolie reaches a hand out and places it on Quinn’s shoulder. “Don’t cry for me. I appreciate it, but I’m okay now. Thanks to Owen and for you guys opening your home to me. I’ll probably freak out sometimes. Cry. Just ignore me.”