Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3) (12 page)

“I guess I’m not figuring out the puzzle, sweetie. What is it?” Barbara asks.

“You might not have known this before, but I’ve always loved your son, since practically the day I met him, and every single day since. Even when I thought I’d never see him again, and definitely never thought I’d get to be with him, I wanted a piece of him with me always. If you look at the letters in Josalyn’s name, you’ll see Jason’s rearranged,” I reveal, my voice cautiously low, unknowing what her reaction will be. I still can’t bring myself to even glance at Jason quite yet.

She takes the long nail of her pointer finger and slides it across the paper, matching each letter up between the two names, and then looks up at me, pulling her glasses off her face. Her face blank, she stands, and my heart drops. I brace myself as she walks around to my side of the table, and flinch when she shakes the pad of paper out of my hands, it landing on the table with an audible plop. But then she takes my hands in hers and, with that same surprising strength in her half-foot shorter body, pulls me out of my seat and wraps her arms around me.
 

I breathe out a sigh of relief and return her hug as I feel her tremble against me and hear a light sob. After a few moments, she pulls back and kisses me on the cheek, smiling as the tears fall down her made-up cheeks.
 

“I really had no idea. Y’all hid your feelings really well. But all I’ve ever wanted is for my boy to find a good girl who truly loves
him,
so what better person for him to be with than his best friend?” she surmises, and all I can do is smile.
 

I’m scared to death to look at Jason. His mom’s reaction was exactly what I was hoping for, but I have no clue how he’s taking it. Does he think I’m a creeper for naming my little girl after him? Does he find it in bad taste that I named another man’s child after the man I truly wanted to be with? I mean, I didn’t do it as a ‘fuck you’ to Aiden or anything. I did it for the exact reason I just told her, because I had wanted a small part of my soul mate to be with me, even if it was only in a name I’d say daily. It had been my little secret up until now; it wasn’t something I flaunted. So I hope he knows that he was that important to me, so significant to me that I’d name my own flesh and blood after the man I loved with every inch of my heart.
 

But as always, he can read me as easily as a large-print book, and the next thing I know, I’m spun out of his mom’s embrace and enveloped in the one I never want to leave for the rest of my life. With seemingly no care given for present company seeing the affectionate display, he cups my jaw in one of his hands, tilts my face up to his, and kisses me, right in front of his mom. I can’t help but giggle, because I, on the other hand, am painfully aware of the other person in the room, and so I break the kiss and tuck myself shyly against his chest until my embarrassment fades enough that I can breathe correctly again. I’m just relieved he evidently likes the little secret I just revealed to them.
 

Barbara pulls two tissues out of the box on the counter, lifts her glasses off her nose, and wipes under her eyes, sniffing once before letting out a short laugh. She moves back over to the stove, and after stirring one last time, she turns the burners off, yelling to Steve, “Dinner’s ready!” then turning to ask me, “You sure you don’t want anything? There’s plenty.”

I come to stand beside her, taking a peek at what she had fixed. I sniff, and it smells delicious, but I have no idea what it is.
 

“It’s shrimp creole,” she supplies, but at my still-iffy face, she elaborates, “It’s a little spicy, but not too hot, because I can’t eat stuff that’s too spicy. It’s tomato based, and you serve it on top of rice.”

“I’ve never tried it. I’ll take a little bit. I’ll try anything once,” I say. Even though I wasn’t hungry before, the scent is making my stomach growl.

“If you like it a little spicier, like Steve does, we have a bunch of different hot sauces in the door of the fridge,” she offers.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m like you. I can’t handle spicy. I craved spicy chicken sandwiches from Chick Fil A a couple times while I was pregnant, but let’s just say that didn’t end well,” I tell her, shaking my head.

I end up scarfing down two giant bowls full of the Cajun dish, Steve chuckling when I asked if I could have seconds. “No one can ever resist Momma’s shrimp creole. Have all you want.”

Jason also goes up for seconds, adding a little bit of hot sauce to his. Even without the added heat, I’ve gone through a couple tissues, my nose running and the back of my neck sweating, making me giggle. “I guess I’m not much of a masochist.” At Jason’s questioning smile, I explain, “I learned in my college course that liking spicy food is psychological. People who love it actually get pleasure from the pain.”

We both laugh when we glance over at his dad as he shakes a ridiculous amount of hot sauce onto the top of his freshly filled bowl. When he looks up, continuing to cover the food in red sauce, he quips, “Oh, I’ve always enjoyed a good spanking,” and I nearly fall out of my seat from laughing so hard.
 

Suddenly I hear Josalyn start to make little dinosaur noises as she wakes up from her nap, and as I stand to go clean out my bowl, Jason rests his hand on my wrist, telling me he’ll take care of it while I go get the baby. I catch a glimpse of his mom’s pride-filled face before I leave the kitchen.

I walk into his room just as Josalyn tries to sit up in the middle of the bed, but it’s so soft that she topples back over, making her grunt in frustration. I reach out and pick her up, placing her on my hip and kissing her when she looks up at me with a sleepy smile.
 

Carrying her into the kitchen and sitting back in my chair, when she sees Jason next to us, she reaches out and makes grabby hands, and my heart swells when he hurriedly takes our bowls to the sink then comes back to us, picking her up off my lap and folding his arms around her. She lets out a dramatic sigh and lays her head on his shoulder, blinking down at me, not quite fully awake yet. He turns his head to press his nose into her hair, and I hear him breathe deeply. I lock gazes with his mom, and I can tell she’s feeling as deeply moved by the scene as I am. This has got to feel just as surreal to her, seeing her bad boy son melt into a puddle at the feet of an eight-month-old. She doesn’t say anything, probably not wanting to break the moment, but she reaches out and pats my cheek before standing to take her own bowl to the sink.
 

About an hour later, I think it’s probably safe for me to make my way back across town to my brother’s house. We make plans for Jason to come pick me up tomorrow after he gets out of class, but he refuses to tell me what we’re going to go do. He tells me to just dress in jeans, nothing fancy, but that’s the only clue I get.
 

After strapping Josalyn into the back seat of my rental, Jason kisses me before I get into the driver seat. He tells me to call him as soon as I get to my brother’s house to let him know I made it.

Forty-five minutes later, I pull into Tony’s driveway. I call Jason as promised, tell him I can’t wait until tomorrow, and then we hang up. It was much different spending time with him with Josalyn present. She seemed to help tame the crazy sexual tension between the two of us, keeping us in check. But God only knows what it’ll be like tomorrow, when I’m baby free and all his for an entire afternoon and evening.
 

My heart pounds when I see his Altima pull into the driveway outside my brother’s house. Not only am I excited-slash-terrified of this evening’s activities, but this is a big moment in itself. Jason is about to meet part of my family.

I watch from the living room as he exits his car and passes by the front windows, and then hear him knock on the door. I jump up to let him in, not able to make him wait, anticipation be damned. When I pull open the door, I take in all his Texan badass glory, from his scuffed and broken-in brown cowboy boots, up his dark blue jeans barely containing the muscled thighs beneath the rough fabric, over the soft-looking red plaid shirt that wraps snuggly around his tattooed biceps, and finally land on his scruff-covered handsome face.
 

Clench.

“Um, babe. Can I come in? Kinda chilly out here,” he says through a smirk.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. You just look… yeah.” I step back and open the door wider, allowing him into the foyer before I close it behind him. When I turn around, he wraps his arm around my lower back, pulling me to him.

He sighs into my neck, “Mmm, you’re warm. And you smell good.”

I don’t care what anyone says. It’s way hotter getting complimented on your scent than on the way you look. There’s something so carnal about someone liking your aroma so much that they take the time to comment on it. Maybe I’m weird. Wait… that’s already established.

“Thank you. Now, c’mere. I can’t wait for you to meet my mom!” I pry him off of me, giggling when he tries to wrap himself back around me, but then he gives in and lets me take his hand to lead him into the kitchen, where Mom, Tony, and Buffy are sitting at the dining table nibbling on some fresh fruit. It was seriously the first time I’d seen an actual pineapple get cut up before. Buffy laughed at me while my mouth hung open in fascination as it went from giant spiky fruit to little yellow chunks of tangy deliciousness. I always just had the canned kind.

When we enter, Mom turns around in her seat and looks up at us, a smile splitting her face. She stands and comes to wrap Jason up in a tight hug, pulling back to tell him, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Then she rears back and punches him in the arm, making me yelp, “Mom!” as Jason rubs at the spot on his bicep.

“That’s for breaking my baby’s heart, you devil,” she growls with narrowed eyes, poking her finger into his chest that’s at her eye-level. And then she gives him another hug, conceding, “But I’ve never seen her happier than in the past couple of months. So I guess I forgive you.”
 

“Wow, that was the strangest meeting of The Mom I’ve ever been through,” Jason says with a chuckle then reaches out to shake Tony’s proffered hand.
 

“Good to meet you, man. My sis talked about you all the time when she lived here,” Tony tells him then turns to the blonde next to him. “This is my girlfriend Buffy.” Jason shakes her hand and then they all sit back down in their seats.

“Where is Josalyn?” Jason asks, glancing around the kitchen.
 

“She’s in the playpen in the living room,” I reply, hitching my thumb over my shoulder in her direction, and I smile when he immediately heads that way. I follow him, my heart thumping as he walks up to the Pack 'n Play and gets down on his haunches to be face-to-face with my babbling baby girl. When she sees him, she crawls the short space over to the side, reaches up to grip the top, and pulls herself up to stand right in front of him.
 

“Hey, pretty girl,” I hear him tell her, and I laugh when she starts bouncing, bending her knees and standing up straight over and over again as she lets out a shrill squeal before plopping down on her diaper-cushioned butt.

“Well, alrighty then. Does that mean you’re happy to see me?” he asks her, standing and reaching in to pick her up. And just like yesterday, she grips the collar of his plaid shirt, leans back to get a good look at him, and then reaches up to latch onto his nose. He laughs and then makes a loud elephant sound with his mouth, making her jump. I brace myself, waiting to see which direction she’ll go, either bursting out into tears or laughter, and I grin when she chooses the latter.

I come to stand next to them and lift up on my tiptoes, leaning in to give her kisses on her cheeks and mouth, using the back of my hand to wipe off the drool left on my lips. “You be a good girl for MomMom, okay? Mommy will see you for your 3:00 a.m. feeding,” I coo at her, and she answers with, “Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma,” while flapping her hands, settling down enough to grasp ahold of Jason’s nose again.
 

He sets her on her feet inside the playpen and waves at her, and she does her backward wave in return, saying, “Baaaa-ba. Baaaa-ba.”

“That’s right, Tooty. Bye-bye,” I say, and we go back into the kitchen to let everyone know we’re leaving. Tony gives me a key to get back in the house in case they’re already in bed when I get home tonight, and then we head out the door.

“So now will you tell me where we’re going?” I ask Jason, tucking one leg up underneath me in the leather bucket seat.

“First, we’re going out to eat. Then we’re going to our old haunt and playing a couple games of pool. But the rest is a surprise,” he teases, and I shake my head, giving him a mock-pout. I look at the time, seeing it’s only 2:30 p.m.
 

“It’s kind of an odd time to eat. Do you want to kill some time before dinner?” I ask.

“What did you have in mind?” he rumbles, lifting his eyebrow and cutting his eye over to me briefly as he merges onto 59 South.

“I don’t know. Maybe watch a movie at your house or something until around five-ish?” I suggest.