I frown. “You know I could never hate you.”
He scratches his cheek. “Well, drug dealing tends to be a deal breaker, so I was kind of nervous about how you’d take it.”
I grin. “I make you nervous?”
He shakes his head and bites back a smile. “You make me a lot of things.”
Something flutters in my chest, like a swarm of butterflies looking for a way out.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry that Drew is caught up with the Royals, especially after all you did to keep your family out of it.”
His shoulders tense. “Yeah. I was pretty pissed. Pissed and scared.” He shakes his head and mutters “Fuck” so softly I hardly catch it. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he turns to me and shakes his head. “It’s just crazy. Drew was always the good one, you know? He was the little mama’s boy who was always happy and nice. I don’t understand why he would get mixed up in all this. It’s not like him. I mean, I love the guy, but he’s not cut out for the drug business. He’s not cold, or hard, or ruthless—”
“Neither are you.”
He smiles sadly. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you think I’m not those things.”
“You’re not.”
“But I am,” he says. “Or I was. I don’t know. My point is just that Drew is not, and has never been, those things. So his involvement with Clancy makes zero sense. How did he even get connected?” He shakes his head again as he stares out the window, confusion marking every one of his features.
I smile reassuringly. “Maybe you’ll find him the moment we get to New Orleans and you can ask him yourself.”
“God, I hope so.”
“Speaking of which, where should I go once we get to NOLA?”
“Clancy owns a bar in the French Quarter called Crowns. You can just drop me off there.” He looks at me sincerely. “I really appreciate all this, Jenn. I know this wasn’t what you had planned for your visit back home.”
I scoff. “The only plan I had for coming home was to scold my grandmother for dragging my ass out here again.”
He smiles. “Don’t act like you don’t love having an excuse to be back.”
“Please.”
“You do,” he says. “You get all antsy and nervous, but I see the excitement in your eyes. Admit it.”
I bite back a grin. “Never.”
I don’t like how costly it can be, but Jack’s right. I do like having a reason to come home. I miss my family, but it’s hard for me to justify spending lots of money to come home just because I miss them.
A short while later, we arrive in New Orleans. The French Quarter is cramped with tourists and traffic once we reach the district, so we crawl along from street to street as Jack directs me where to go.
“I’ve never heard of Crowns before,” I say. “Which is weird, because I used to party down here. A lot.”
He stares out the window with hard eyes. “Clancy has a very specific type of clientele and you’re not it.”
I lift my eyebrows. “But you are?”
He keeps staring out the window. “Yes.”
The way he says it makes a shiver run through me.
“This is it,” he says, pointing to a black building with only one door.
I pull in front and stop the car, squinting at the windows of the bar. “It doesn’t look open.”
Jack examines the windows as well, scratching his jaw. “I know… Hang on.”
Getting out, he paces to the back of the bar, disappearing around a corner for a few moments, then returns to the entrance of the bar and cocks his head at the small lettering on the door. He walks back to the car and leans on the car door.
“I tried the back door, but no one answered, and the sign out front says they don’t open for another four hours,” he says with a frustrated exhale.
He tried the back door. Of course.
“Okay, well.” I look around. “Why don’t you come back to my house? My mom called earlier so I know she made a disgusting amount of food for my homecoming. My whole family will be there, which might be a tad overwhelming, but at least you can kill some time and eat your heart out. Then I’ll drive you back here after they open.”
He looks out at the street, fidgeting with the car door as he deliberates. “Yeah. Okay. That’s probably better than me loitering the streets down here. I don’t want Clancy to know I’m here yet and his guys are probably all over the place.” He gets back in and shuts himself inside. Then turns to me with a grin. “And besides, I’ve always wanted to meet your mom.”
I roll my eyes as we drive away. “Don’t make me regret inviting you over.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, I already do.
“OH MY GOODNESS! A boy is in the house!” My six-year-old sister, Raine, runs up the moment Jack and I step inside my house and throws her arms around Jack, a guy she’s never met before. Taken aback, he stands frozen with his arms out and looks down at her with a tentative smile.
“Ooh! He’s pretty!” Shyla runs up to us as well, climbing her four-year-old body into my arms for a big hug while at the same time staring openmouthed at Jack. She whispers in my ear, “He gots big muscles.”
“Hi there,” Penny, my sixteen-year-old sister, says in a silky voice as she holds out her hand. “I’m Penny. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Jack hesitantly shakes her hand. “I’m Jack.”
“Oh, I know,” she says, still shaking his hand.
“Is this Jack?” my mother calls out as she enters the front room with my grandmother. “It is so nice to meet you!” Mom approaches and kisses him on the cheek, leaving a lipstick kiss mark on his face.
“You’re such a handsome young man,” Grandma coos as she walks up to us with the energy of a teenager and the healthy glow of a yoga instructor.
Dying, my ass.
“So handsome,” Mom repeats, rubbing the lipstick mark off Jack’s cheek before patting it like he’s a chubby baby in a high chair and not a grown man standing in her living room.
Jack’s big gray eyes look slightly terrified at all the attention he’s getting. Raine is sitting on his right foot with her limbs wrapped around his left as she stares up at him in awe, while Shyla has reached out from my arms and is now petting his shoulder and chanting, “Big muscles. Big muscles.” Penny is still shaking his hand, refusing to release it as she bats her lashes, and my mom keeps grinning while Grandma goes on about how attractive he is.
He glances at me, his eyes crying for help, and I call the dogs off.
“Okay, everyone, step away from the boy!” I say. “Step away. From the boy. That includes you too, Penny.” I shoot her a look as Jack delicately pulls his hand from her grasp.
Mom and Grandma back up a few feet, still smiling at Jack like he’s some kind of celebrity, while Raine scoots off of his foot, but remains on the floor next to him.
I shake my head. “You’d think no one in this house had ever seen a guy before. God. Isn’t anyone in this house happy to see me?” I tease, and my sisters instantly start babbling their hello’s.
I make the rounds, greeting each of my family members with kisses and hugs, and my mom beams as my sisters and I hug.
“Look at all my little peacocks, together in one place,” she says. “Ooh, I just love my girls!” She brings us all into a gripping hug and I laugh.
It’s good to be home.
When my mom releases us from her hold, I walk over to my grandmother and look her up and down with a grimace. Given that she’s supposedly on her deathbed, I expected her to be all hunched over and missing a few teeth, or at least have a walking cane and a shawl on. But no.
Her hair is in perfect curls, her chocolate skin looks radiant, her amber-brown eyes are rich and sharp, and the purple silk dress she has on matches her fingernail polish and glittering earrings.
“Hi, Grams,” I say, kissing both her cheeks before lifting a brow at her fashionable attire. “You look quite put together,” I say. “And a
stonishingly healthy.”
She grins. “Well, death comes like a thief in the night.”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod. “A thief that makes yearly house calls?”
“Hush, Jenna,” Mom says, sashaying over to Jack. “We’re sorry for overwhelming you, Jack.” She throws him a smile that says just the opposite. “We’re just so happy to meet you.”
“A king’s welcome,” Jack says merrily. “I like it.”
“Well if you like that, hopefully you’ll like a king’s feast as well.” She waves us into the kitchen where the table is literally covered with food.
Jack’s eyes widen. “This looks amazing.”
I swear food turns men on just as much as boobs.
Chatter sails in from the front door, where my cousins enter the house and file into the kitchen, where they immediately come at me.
“Oh thank God, you’re safe.”
“Did anyone try to eat you?”
“You totally didn’t call as often as you said you would.”
I stare at them. “Wow. It’s good to see you too.”
Jack leans over and says, “Eat you?”
I wave a hand. “It’s a long story.”
“Okay, come on now. Let’s eat.” My mom ushers everyone into seats.
I sit next to Grandma with Jack on my other side, while my younger sisters fight over who gets the chair next to Jack. Penny wins and smiles brightly at Jack—too brightly, if you ask me—as she sits down. And lunch begins.
The first thirty minutes of the meal, everyone asks Jack questions. Where he’s from. What he likes. What his tattoos mean. Like myself, Jack’s tattoos melt into one another like one big mural, there are so many. But as I look more closely at the hawk on his arm, with the snake tangled in its talons, I wonder if the hawk represents Jack and the snake represents the Vipers. It would make sense.
He tells my family that there’s very little meaning behind his ink, but I know better.
I know about the midnight bird of hope.
I frown. Knowing more about Jack’s history, I can only imagine he got that tattoo when he was involved with the Vipers. A symbol of hope. Hope to be free. Hope to be safe.
Looking at him now, I bite down on a smile. It was a lucky tattoo after all.
My family members eventually stop interrogating Jack and turn their inquiring minds to me. I catch them up on all things Jenna, but their eyes keep drifting to the handsome guy at my side.
I guess I can’t blame them. My family is all girls, all the time. It’s a rare occurrence, having a guy at the table, let alone a very attractive one.
“So Grandma,” I say, leaning over. “You still don’t look like you’re dying to me.”
She shrugs with keen eyes. “Looks can be deceiving, child.”
I snort. “You know what else can be deceiving? Grandmas who cry death.”
She smiles. “If that’s what I need to do to get you to come home, then I’ll keep dying every year.”
“Ha. I know you will,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. “But seriously, it’s good to see you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“You too, child. You’re my star.” Her gaze slips to Jack. “And he seems to be yours.”
I roll my eyes. “Not even close. You know me, Grams. I don’t need a man.”
She huffs. “Who said anything about need? I’m talking about desire. I’m talking about the heart.”
Oh God. I come from a long line of hopeless romantics, and they seem to think it’s their job to make sure I fall in love and breed at some point.
Pushing food around my plate, I scoff. “Mom had desire and heart, and look where that got her.”
“I am looking at it,” Grams says, looking at me. “And it’s the best thing that ever happened to her.”
I draw in a breath. “Well you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t want to end up a broke single mother.”
She tsks at me. “Your mother chose her path. Besides, what is it you do want to be? A rich childless woman?”
I chew my food and think about that. Sure, I never wanted to get married. And I never wanted to be poor. But do I want to be childless? I guess I could always foster kids, like my mom. I’m her only biological child but Penny, Raine, and Shyla have lived with us since they were babies and it’s been awesome. But is that what I want? To raise kids on my own? Or to live forever without being a mother?
Ugh. I don’t like where this train of thought is going. Leave it to Grandma to stir me up.
I playfully wink at her. “Who doesn’t want to be rich?”
She tuts and looks away. “All I’m saying is that sometimes getting what you want is the worst fate of all. Most of the time, actually.” She takes a graceful sip of her sweet tea. “I like your new ring, by the way.” She nods at my left hand, where the red-stoned ring Jack bought for me at the art festival the other day sits two fingers away from the gris-gris ring she gave me when I moved to Arizona. “It looks rather special.”
I stare at my fingers, adorned with various rings of all shapes and sizes. “How could you tell I got a new one?”
She daintily sets her tea glass down. “Your fingers didn’t tell me, love. Your eyes did.” A shrewd smile curls her lips. “Is it a gift from your young man?”
I shake my head. How does she always know things?
“You’re crazy, Grams,” I say.
She keeps smiling. “But am I wrong?”
I tuck my hands away with a defeated sigh. “No. You’re not wrong. The ring was a gift from Jack.”
She goes back to her lunch with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart beams in my chest. I still can’t believe Jack bought me a ring. I chance a glance in his direction and he catches me. A bright smile lights up his face, his storm-cloud eyes sparkling beneath thick dark eyebrows, and he winks at me. My beaming heart leaps like I’m some giddy schoolgirl and I quickly look away.
Jack.
He makes me feel things—things I wish I didn’t want to feel.
When lunch is over and I go help with the dishes, my youngest sisters whisk Jack away with happy giggles.
Forty-five minutes later, I wander through the house looking for him. Entering the playroom, I find my cousins and Grandma watching something with adoring smiles and follow their gaze to where Jack is surrounded by a gaggle of girls. Again.
He’s sitting at a children’s table that’s so small compared to his giant body it’s laughable. His long legs are bent and tucked awkwardly in front of him as he sits in a chair designed for a two-year-old, but the quirkiest part of the scene is the fact that he has a sheet tied around him like a dress, a large hat with flowers on his head, and white gloves that barely fit around his hands. And he’s wearing makeup. Bright-pink blush stains his cheeks and purple eye shadow is scribbled below his brows, while neon-red lipstick marks up his mouth and sticks to the stubble on his chin and jaw. Shyla and Raine are also dressed up and lathered in makeup, and the three of them are sitting at the table with stuffed animals having a tea party.
“I see my gris-gris bag is working,” Grandma says, startling me.
It’s only then I realize I’m grinning from ear to ear as I stare at Jack with my sisters. I try to get my beaming smile under control.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shift my weight.
She rolls her eyes like she’s sixteen years old and not, you know, a hundred. “Please. I know love when I see it and that boy is in love with you.” She sighs. “It seems my superstitious beliefs are paying off.”
Now I roll my eyes. “Of course you would take credit for this.”
She smiles. “So you admit he’s in love with you, I like that.” She winks. “Progress.”
I glare at her. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
Her smile turns more knowing. “You’re welcome.”
Jack sees me and a giant grin spreads across his face. “Hello, Jenna. Would you care to
join us for some tea?” He lifts a tiny teacup in the air.
“No, no, no, Mr. Jack.” Shyla points a scolding finger at him. “You have to lift your pinkie finger when you drink. Like this.” She demonstrates with her tiny pinkie, wearing a very serious face as she does so.
“Oh, I’m so very sorry.” He flicks up his pinkie. “Is that better, Ms. Shyla?”
She nods. “Much better.”
“Come join us!” Raine says, smiling as she tugs on my arm. “We’re doing makeovers.”
“I can see that.” I sit on one of the small chairs and Raine and Shyla immediately start fussing with my hair and clothes. They put a tiara on my head and drape dozens of pearl necklaces around my neck, then take turns painting my face with their junior makeup kits.
“Ta-da!” Shyla smiles when they’re finished.
I feel like ten pounds of clay are on my face as I turn to Jack and smile. “How do I look, Mr. Jack?”
He bows his head. “Absolutely marvelous, Ms. Jenna.”
I laugh at the ridiculousness of the floppy flowered hat on his head when it tips off with his bow, then I pick it up and place it back on. Even covered in my little sisters’ makeup and dressed like a gaudy gypsy he manages to look masculine. But more than that, his gray eyes are the same, piercing me with his joy and easiness with my family, sinking into me with the heaviness of the life he’s trying to fix and the lightness of what he sees in me, and I want to get lost in them.
Gris-gris bag aside, there is something growing inside me. Something born of passion and nourished with time. Something Jack’s known about for God knows how long and isn’t afraid of.
Something that feels a lot like love.
He’s like a drug, this man. And if I’m not careful, I might get addicted.
This is, if I’m not already.
18
Jack
The black building that was completely deserted earlier is now bouncing with music and people as Jenna rolls to a stop down the street.
Her three cousins are overdressed in the backseat, plotting their evening with text messages and nonstop chatter. When they found out Jenna was driving me to the French Quarter, they insisted on making a night of it and forced Jenna into a very sexy outfit—a skintight top with no straps and matching skintight jeans with heels. The sight of which makes me wish I were invited to stay, but Callie made it clear this was a “girls” night only.