Wish Come True (The Blogger Diaries Trilogy Book 3) (31 page)

I greet her with a kiss to her cheek as she sets Josalyn back on her feet and takes the bags out of my hands. Following her through the foyer and into the kitchen, I help Buffy empty the bags on the counter, where she has everything already prepped for the crab legs.
 

I turn and look through the huge bay window and spot my big brother manning the grill as usual, and see my dad sitting in a chair next to him. I feel a smile split my face as I watch him pull a piece of meat from the tongs Tony holds out to him, knowing Daddy can never wait until dinnertime to taste the food. I hear Mom’s voice in my head,
“Mike, there won’t be any food left to put on the table if you don’t stop sneaking it!”

“I’ve got this, if you want to go see your dad,” Buffy tells me, so I head through the breakfast area, and into the living room, where the French back doors sprawl across an entire wall before stopping at a fireplace, its mantel full of framed pictures of the entire Greenwood family.
 

I glance over to the giant L-shaped couch, where Jason is taking Avary’s tiny squirming body out of her carrier. I can’t help but feel my heart swell as he cradles her in one arm while carefully straightening out her pretty, red satin Christmas dress I put her in before we left the house. His eyes come to me as he leans down and kisses the top of her head, the grey streak at the front a stark contrast to the rest of her pitch-black hair.
 
Nothing but love fills his gaze on me, and it makes me hopeful his bad mood has already lifted.

I turn the knob on the door to the back yard and step outside, pulling it shut behind me. There’s not much of a difference in temperature between the inside of Tony’s house and out here, since he likes to keep it arctic. Being in Texas, though, it actually got up to the mid-seventies today, but it’s gotten much colder since the sun has gone down. As I step up to my big brother and twine my arms around his middle, he engulfs me with his six-five frame.

“Merry Christmas, kid. The drive up okay?” he asks, rubbing my arms rapidly to get the chill off.
 

“Merry Christmas, Nony. Yeah, the drive was fine. Traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I tell him, stepping over to my dad, who stands waiting with his arms spread wide. “Hey, Daddy!” I wrap my arms around his neck and feel his beard tickle my face as he lays a kiss on my cheek.

“Hey, baba-doll. Where are my babies?” he asks, looking around me to peer in through the kitchen’s window.

“Inside. Josalyn is probably attached to Aspen, and Jason just got Avary out of her carrier.” I barely have time to finish my sentence before he’s headed into the living room.
 

That man loves babies. And it’s a good thing too, since he now has ten grandkids between his four children. There have been quite a few back-to-back the past several years. First, Jay and Renee had Bret in 2005, then I had Josalyn in 2007, Tony and Buffy had Abigail in 2008, and just over a year later, I had Avary a few months ago. When I got on the phone with Dad after I had her, the first thing out of his mouth was, “You couldn’t wait one more day, so she and I could share a birthday?”
 

Tony snaps me out of the memory as he lifts the lid of the grill, letting out a plume of smoke. “You all right, sis?”

“Gettin’ there. I’m hoping once Jason gets around his buddy, he’ll get out of his foul mood. He’s had a stick up his ass all day, and I have no idea why,” I confide.

“Ah, I’m sure he’s fine. More than likely just stressed out because he’s got a new baby and it’s your first Christmas down here. It can be overwhelming for a guy,” he says.

“How so?” I tilt my head over the giant prime rib he’s cooking, inhaling the delicious scent of the seared beef.
 

“Well, before, he only had to worry about making himself happy. Now, he’s got a whole family of his own to make sure they are taken care of. He’s probably worried the gifts he’s gotten each of you aren’t good enough, or that he hasn’t gotten you enough, period. Or maybe he’s overwhelmed about it being his first Christmas with his own family in your new house. It’s basically his first time being the man of the house, not the kid, right?”
 

He looks at me with his always bloodshot but still beautiful blue eyes, the same eyes all three of my brothers share with both of my parents. I doubt Tony’s body even realizes what time zone he’s in right now. He’s constantly travelling all over the world for his job.

“True, I didn’t think of that.” A sense of relief washes over me that it could be something as simple as masculine pride that’s weighing on my boyfriend’s shoulders.
 

I watch Tony use an obscenely sharp knife to cut a slice of beef off then lay it on the plate sitting on the table next to grill. He halves it, pops one into his mouth, and then holds out the other piece to me with a fork. I devour it velociraptor style and moan as the flavor bursts in my mouth. One does not leave my big brother’s house without a painfully full belly of the best food imaginable.
 

“That’s amazing. Mom’s not here, so you don’t have to burn it,” I say, knowing if she were here he’d have to cook at least part of it well done. The rest of us like our beef, at most, medium rare.
 

“Damn straight,” he agrees, and I chuckle before heading inside.
 

When I walk into the kitchen, Jason’s Mom is flapping around the kitchen, trying to help Buffy, who, by the look on her face, would obviously prefer to have her workspace to herself. Anything Momma asks if she can help with, Buffy turns her down politely and laughs, shooting a look for help at Jason and his dad. Steve finally catches it and tells Barbara, “Hey, Mike is in the living room with Avary. Why don’t we get out of Buffy’s hair and see what he’s been up to?” taking her hand and pulling her in that direction.

“Well, only if you’re sure you don’t need any help,” she aims at Buffy.

“Oh, I’m positive,” she replies with an enthusiastic nod, and as the older couple leaves the room, my gaze locks with my sister’s and we both split up laughing. “Bless her heart.”

“God love her,” I add, shaking my head. Being retired, the woman doesn’t know how to
not
try to take over everything anyone else is doing. If you don’t cut her off at the beginning, your project will suddenly become hers. I don’t think she realizes she does this; she’s only trying to be helpful.

With Josalyn upstairs playing with her cousins and Avary with her grandparents, I sit down at the kitchen table and take a minute to relax. When I look over at Jason, I see he’s sipping on a glass of his dark red wine.
 

“Wow, you didn’t wait long, did you?” I raise a brow at him, and he looks down into the liquid.

“I figured if I’m going to drink, I better do it early so it wears off before we go home. Don’t worry, baby,” he adds, seeing the expression on my face. “I’m only going to have a glass or two, and after I eat, I won’t be able to feel anything. If I do, I promise I’ll tell you and you can drive home.”

I can only have a glass or two myself, since I breastfeed the baby, so what he says appeases me. If having some wine will aid in lifting his Scrooge-like mood, then he can have the whole damn bottle for all I care.

“Would you like a glass, Kayla?” Buffy asks from behind her counter, and when I look up, she’s glaring at Jason.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, babe. You want some of your wine we brought?” Jason hops up from the table and moves to open the bottle of moscato with the corkscrew sitting next to Buffy’s baby pink KitchenAid mixer. I’ve threatened to steal it several times, but I always get laughed at. One day…

“Yes, please. It’s warm, so will you throw a couple of ice cubes in it? I don’t understand how you can drink that dry-ass wine, especially with it not cold. I don’t like to have to drink water behind my wine in order to wet my tongue again.”

“I love the dry reds too, but I like to add Sprite to it and make it a wine spritzer,” Buffy interjects, opening the oven and sliding the pan of crab legs in before shutting it again.

“I’ve never tried it like that before. Maybe that would make it bearable. You do your crab in the oven?” I ask, fascinated. I always learn cool things in the kitchen every time I come to Buffy’s.
 

“Yeah, it’s so much easier than trying to boil them in a big pot on the stove, especially since we’re doing so many.”
 

I watch as she pulls several sticks of butter out of the refrigerator, unwraps them, and puts them in bowls. She sits them next to the stove, assumingly so they’ll be close by to melt in the microwave above it once the crab is ready.

Jason closes the freezer and walks toward me, my heart jumping a little. After everything we’ve been through, I doubt I’ll ever get used to him being my man, here to do things for me as simple as pour me a glass of wine. Even after our yearlong long-distance relationship, moving to Texas to be with him, and having his baby. The two and a half years before that I had to spend without my soul mate was… terrible, to say the least. Thinking I would have to live without him… It’s still surreal I’m here, with Jason, and I’m his girl.
 

Well, woman now, I guess. We’ve been through and have grown up so much since I first fell for him that I can’t really be called a girl anymore. It’s been nearly five years since I first met him. I can remember that night so vividly, like it happened only hours ago instead of half a decade. I can almost smell the engine oil mixed with his cologne as he changed the starter in his old Chevy truck. I feel the same scattering butterflies erupt in my stomach, remembering the first time our eyes locked over the hood as he wiped his hands on a shop rag.
 

“What’s that face?” he whispers in my ear as he leans down and places the wine glass on the table next to me. “What are you thinking about, baby? Because that look is making my dick hard.”

At my gasp, he chuckles and sits back down in his seat. I know the heat in my cheeks is visible when Buffy looks over at me and shakes her head. Letting out one of her laughs, she playfully gripes, “You two! Not at the table where my kids eat!”

An hour later, after setting up all the pots and pans full of food with serving spoons and filling glasses with ice, we all line up and pile our plates with everything from the crab legs we brought, to Buffy’s homemade stuffing. We set the kids at the table in the kitchen, and the grown-ups sit down at the table in the dining room. Avary went down for a nap upstairs in Abigail’s crib a few minutes ago after I nursed her, so I can eat in peace. I turn the volume on the baby monitor up so I’ll be sure to hear it if she cries.

“You want a refill, Jason?” Buffy asks before she sits down, and they exchange a look I barely catch before it disappears.
 

“Yes, please,” he replies, handing her his glass. She quickly moves through the doorway into the kitchen to pour him more wine before returning and placing it in front of him.
 

Looking at him closely, I don’t really know what emotion I see on his face. He doesn’t look like he’s in a bad mood anymore. He almost looks anxious. Nervous, even. He flexes his hands as he rests his wrists on the edge of the table, and he takes some deep breaths as he looks down into his lap. I really hope being around so much of my big family isn’t freaking him out.
 

I reach over and grasp his hand, and when he looks from my grip up into my face, it warms my heart to see him visibly relax. He smiles at me then lifts my knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them before squeezing my fingers then releasing them.
 

The next hour is filled with the sounds of cracking crab legs, moans of appreciation, humorous banter, and of course, Buffy’s laughter, followed by everyone else’s.
 

“I’m going to go wake Avary up and bring her downstairs so there might be some hope she’ll sleep tonight,” I tell Jason, standing from the table when I’m finished stuffing myself.
 

“I got your plate, babe,” he says, waving my hands away from my mess. There wasn’t a single leg left out of the ten pounds of crab I bought. I lean down and kiss him quickly on the lips before walking through the kitchen, out to the foyer, and up the carpeted stairs. I turn right at the top and quietly open Abigail’s door, not wanting to startle Avary awake.
 

After gently rubbing her back and petting her chubby cheeks, she slowly awakens, and when she looks up to see who’s loving on her, her dark chocolate eyes, the same as her daddy’s, sparkle as she sees it’s me, and her face splits with a wide, toothless grin. “Hey there, sleepy head. Did you have sweet dreams, baby girl?” I coo, picking up my little bundle and putting her to my chest. I smooth out her red satin dress and bury my nose in her neck, breathing in her baby scent.

“We’re about to open presents downstairs. You want to go see all your family?” I ask her.

Her response is another giant smile, and her answer satisfies me enough that we make our way back downstairs.
 

“Gimme my grandbaby,” my dad says, holding his arms out. “But give her to me backwards. They like to see what’s going on, ya know.”