Chapter 30
“Is it too late for a 44-year-old woman to be adopted? Asking for a friend. That friend is me.”
-Celia
I sure hoped General Cranky Pants returned from his shower in a better mood because I was just about sick of this grunting and growling nonsense.
After putting away my toiletries and hanging up my clothes in the large guest room closet, I returned to the house’s main area, looking for the kitchen.
My waffles were calling to me, even though they were probably cold.
I found the kitchen by the aroma of hot waffles and bacon. “Something smells good in here.”
Dena stood at the waffle iron. Jocko was at the stove with the bacon.
“We interrupted your breakfast, so it’s only fair we make you something fresh,” Dena winked at me. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“Regular or Espresso?”
I think I might just be a little in love with Flint’s mom. “Espresso. Two shots, please. Then, point me to the sugar.”
“Oh, little darlin, I think we’re going to get along just fine,” Dena started the espresso.
I looked around the kitchen. Viking appliances winked at me between counters and cabinets. There were two restaurant-sized refrigerators, an eight burner gas stove with a pot filler spigot overhead, two dishwashers, and a floor-to-ceiling wine cooler chock-full of yummy goodness.
Yep. I’m in love with Dena O’Meara. Possibly Jocko.
Jocko laughed. “You love it?”
“What?” I snapped my head back toward him.
“You’re drooling over the wine cooler,” he chuckled. “That’s okay. You have the same look on your face that Dena gets when we open a bottle of Cabernet.”
It’s official. True love. Maybe they’d adopt me.
Dena set the espresso in front of me along with the sugar bowl. “Here you go.”
I doctored up my coffee, took a sip, then settled into a stool at the island. “This is a lovely home. How long have you lived here?”
“My first husband built the original cabin right after we married,” Dena pulled a waffle out of the iron and plated it for me. “It wasn’t much, but it worked for him, me, and Flint. But then Fitch and Adlen came along, and it was way too small for five. We planned to add onto the cabin, but he was killed before we could.”
There was so much to unpack about that sentence. I didn’t know where to start. Jocko must have seen the look on my face because he picked up the story. “Flint’s dad was killed when Adlen was three. Struck by lightning trying to get the cattle in the barns.”
I winced. I knew Flint’s dad died, but I had no idea it was such a violent death.
Dena patted my hand. “It’s okay. When we got together and married before he did his tour as a Marine, we made our peace that he could die while serving the country. Then, he came home, and we thought the threat was over.”
I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “When did you two meet?”
“I met Flint’s dad when I was 17, taking classes at Ole Miss,” Dena winked at me. “Right after I married Flint, Senior, Jocko bought the small ranch next door to us. He was a huge help after the accident. I would have lost my ranch if it hadn’t been for his help.”
Both of them looked at each other with shiny eyes, and my heart clenched a little bit.
“After four years of being friends, Jocko finally told me we either had to move forward, or he was selling the ranch and leaving Mississippi,” Dena smirked. “I knew then that I had been given a second chance at love, and I better not fuck it up. And so far, so good. Thirty-three years of wedded bliss.”
Jocko turned to Dena, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her in for a searing kiss that made me feel like I needed to find somewhere else to be. I was about to leave the kitchen when Flint entered and cleared his throat twice before the two lovebirds came out of their bubble.
