He blinks, dragging his eyes back up to mine. “Hey.” He lifts one of the paper bags. “I’ve got burritos and chimichangas, two chicken and two beef each.” He lifts the other bag. “In here, we have two orders of nachos and, I quote, ‘a vat of sour cream,’ and a couple of side salads.”
I boggle. “Have you ever had the nachos at José’s?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, why?”
I laugh. “Because an order of nachos there ishuge.It’s what most people go there to get. When Cora, Aiden, and I go there we get one order to split.”
Jamie makes a face. “I guess that’s why the girl taking the order asked me three times if I was sure I wanted two orders.”
“I think we’ve got enough food there to feed at least six people,” I say, laughing.
“Well, then, I hope you guys are hungry.”
“I am!” Aiden calls. “Mom—are you gonna let him in or what?”
I blush, embarrassed. “Yeah, good point, kiddo.” I step aside so Jamie can sweep past me—his scent rifles through me—masculine and woodsy.
He sets the food on the dining room table, and shoots a glance at Aiden. “How you doing, Aiden?”
“Fine. The ice is making me all wet and cold, though.” He’s using hisacting tough for Coach Trentvoice; I can see his ankle is hurting him, but he’s too proud to admit it.
I remove the ice pack and then the towel. “Oh, crap,” I grouse. “It leaked all over the couch.”
“Itoldyou it was making me wet.”
“I know, you’re right, you did.”
He shoots a look at Jamie. “You were rushing around cleaning like a crazy woman, so you forgot, huh?”
I frown at him as I mop up the wet spot with the towel. “Aiden! Rude!”
“What? Papa said that to Grandma once, when she was having her friends over.”
I snort. “Well, a good rule to follow is don’t repeat most of what Papa says, especially if he says it to Grandma.”
Aiden tilts his head to one side, nodding. “Grandma does whack him after he says that kinda stuff. So maybe you’re right.”
“Grandma and Papa have also been married for forty-six years, so Grandma knows Papa is teasing. It’s disrespectful for you to speak to me that way.”
Jamie uses what I would call his “coach voice” on Aiden. “Hey, don’t be disrespectful to your mother, kid. She does more for you than you’ll ever know.” For such an unfailingly kind man, that was a surprisingly firm order.
“Yes, Coach,” Aiden says, abashed. “Sorry, Mama.”
Jamie glances at me. “You didn’t have to clean up for me.”
I grin, blushing again. “You know how the inside of my car looks?” I indicate the house around us. “Sometimes, things around here get like that.”
“Hey, no judgment here. I still haven’t completely finished unpacking.” He indicates the food. “Go crazy, you guys. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Aiden sits up fast, looking almost panicked. “What? No! You have to stay and eat with us.”
Jamie glances at me. “Well, I don’t know. You guys have had a long day, and—”
I want him to stay.
I don’t dare ask him to stay, because I’ve already turned him down and rejected him so many times, and I can’t risk ruining my objectivity.
Who am I kidding? There’s no objectivity.
