“What’s going on?” Jaylynn asks, tilting her head, gaze flicking between Rowyn and me.
“Fine,” I sigh, putting my hands on the table in surrender. “Tell them.”
Rowyn chuckles, her laugh filling the room, and says, “He’s a great cook…” She pauses, looking at me with that look that wraps my chest in warmth and pride and a little pinch of longing. “…and a great baker. You should taste his muffins.”
Muffins.
Jesus.
“You bake?” Gina blurts, eyes wide. “For real?”
“He does,” Rowyn answers for me, smirking. “He’s really good in the kitchen. Really good with his hands.”
I know she’s teasing. She’s totally messing with me.
“We could definitely use your help at the Nook,” Gina says.
“Can’t. Playoffs,” I answer quickly, digging into the roast beef to cover my slight embarrassment. I glance up to find everyone is watching me, all eyes expectant. “But after playoffs, sure. If you still need the help.”
“Really, Jaxon? That would be amazing,” Gina says, eyes lighting up. “I’m sure we’ll have help by then, but if not… I’d take you up on that in a heartbeat.”
“There’s a catch,” I say, leaning back casually.
“Oh?” She cocks a brow.
“You have to give me your cinnamon roll recipe. It’s called quid pro quo.”
Gina laughs out loud, light and melodic. “That’s a family secret.”
“I don’t make the rules, Gina,” I joke, holding up my hands like they’re a national treasure. “No recipe, no help.”
Rowyn laughs again, that sound curling around me like music I didn’t realize I’d been missing. She turns toward Gina, placing her hand on her arm. “Actually, Gina, I’m really awful in the kitchen, but I’d love to help with the kids—weekends, weeknights, whenever I don’t have to work too late.”
“I can help too, after playoffs,” Jaylynn adds. “Work slows down for me then.”
Gina goes quiet, blinking as if she’s trying to hold back tears. Finally, she sniffles. “You guys… you’re going to make me cry.”
“No tears needed,” Penn says, calm and steady. “We’re all family.”
I glance at him and smile. When he first joined the Bucks, he was guarded, wary, always calculating. It came from his upbringing, an only child living on the outskirts of town—a story not that different from Rowyn’s. Back in Snowberry Falls over Christmas, I did my best to involve him, to let him know he’s invited and welcome into the inner circle, because he’s wanted. Now he’s one of us. Part of this messy, chaotic, warm family. And I’m starting to realize, so is Rowyn...
20
Rowyn
I steal a glance at Jaxon as he backs out of the driveway, the soft glow from the dash lighting his profile. My heart stutters, an uneven beat that I’m sure he could hear if he was listening hard enough. He casts me a quick look, the corners of his mouth tugging upward.
“That was a lot of fun,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I really like your friends.”
“They like you too,” he says, his voice warm, relaxed in a way that makes something in my chest loosen. “And that offer to help Gina out? That was nice of you. She’s got two rambunctious kids.” He laughs. “You sure you’re up for that?”
“Nope.”
His laugh fills the car and I grin. It’s so easy being with Jaxon.
“Didn’t you used to babysit when you were a teen?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I did.”