Maggie tuts and hugs me. “We all pick a stinker from time to time.”
My voice chokes as I rest my chin on her shoulder. “I picked him for years. Years of my life, gone.”
“Oh, honey, Lord willing, you’ve still got plenty more good ones to come.” She holds me back by my shoulders. “Why don’t we go check on that boy who got his knuckles bloody for you?”
Inside, Sally’s fussing over Jake. He’s got a plate of those mini-eclairs that come in a kajillion pack from Sam’s Club in front of him and a bag of frozen peas on his fist. She’s pressing a towel with ice in it to his face, holding him to her bosom with her other hand. Jake gives me wide, amused eyes from where he’s squished against her boobs.
“Um, Aunt Sally, I can take over,” I say, stepping forward and taking the towel from her.
“Thanks, though,” Jake says, stifling laughter.
“That just goes on there like that,” Aunt Sally says, still cupping Jake’s face in her hand.
“Thanks, I got it,” I say. “You know, I heard they ran out of plastic forks outside.”
“Oh, shoot!” Aunt Sally bustles out of the room.
A soft hand lands on my shoulder and Maggie steps to my side so I can see her. “You get to decide who you want to be now, sis. I think it’s going to be the best you yet.”
She squeezes my shoulders and I nuzzle my head against her hand. “Thanks, Maggie.”
With a wink, she sashays out of the kitchen.
It’s just me and Jake now. What do you say to someone who punched out your ex? To someone who’s willing to suffer to protect you?
“So,” I cut through the silence. “Thank you.”
Jake’s eyes move over me. “You alright?”
“Will be. Shaken up. How are you?” My eyes flood and embarrassment washes over me. “I’m sorry you got tangled up in my mess.”
Jake grimaces. “It’s my fault he was here.”
I sigh. “You might have set him off, but it’s not your fault.”
The air between us is bruised, aching. I slide into the chair across from him and he grumbles. “I’d rather have your boobs on my head than your aunt’s.”
“Sorry, bub. I’m not as full service as my kinfolk. I’ll just have to hold your ice pack the old fashioned way.” I put a finger under his chin to check his cheek. He’ll definitely have a bruise, but Rob missed important stuff like his nose and his eye.
“Want me to drive home?” I ask.
Jake smirks, though there’s a sadness to his expression that I can’t unpack. “Still can’t drive the truck, darlin’.”
“But your face,” I say.
“I’m okay. He’s not that good at fightin’.”
I chuckle. “I did tell Caleb if he got punched he’d probably be a wiener about it.”
Jake laughs. “I think maybe he came down here looking for a fight. I warned him if he bothered you again he’d have bigger problems than a lost fiancée.”
I whimper and rub his leg. “You said that for me?”
Jake’s voice is gravelly when he speaks again. “I’d do it again, baby. In a heartbeat.”
* * *
We’re loaded downwith to-go containers of food that’s probably been sitting out too long, riding back to the farm in silence.
