“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“No, nothing,” I reply, schooling my features and pushing my laughter down. “Of course I’ll teach you.”
I reach for my bag, and pull out my current project, another sweater for Cordelia, who’s been curled up and fast asleep between Jett and I. Then, I find a spare ball of cotton yarn, and some needles Jett can use.
He inches closer to me, careful not to disturb Cordelia, but still close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, and I can hear each puff of breath from his nose as I show him what to do.
I demonstrate how to cast on the stitches, how to insert the needle and loop the working yarn over it at the back, how to keep his tension consistent so all the stitches stay even. He watches intently, keen to remember every step, and then I let him try it.
I start him off by making a cotton dish cloth. It’s how I started knitting.
He moves back to his side of the couch to work on it, and I do the same, adding another row to Cordelia’s sweater. Occasionally, I hear Jett mutter something under his breath that I can’t quite make out.
I quickly cast a glance up at him over my work to find him focused on his knitting, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He mutters something else that sounds a little bit likefuck this.
“How’s it going over there?” I ask, a teasing lilt in my voice.
“I don’t know,” he says. “How does this look?”
Jett holds up the first half of his dishcloth, and I’m impressed he managed to do so much already. But I hold inmy laughter as I take in the uneven edges, the lumpy stitches. Each row looks like a different length.
Eventually, I can’t hold it in anymore, and a giggle escapes.
It triggers a booming, belly laugh from Jett that rumbles through me. I haven’t heard him laugh like that the entire time we’ve been together, and it’s addicting. It fills me with a bubbling joy that comes spilling out, until we’re both doubled over and wiping tears from our eyes.
“It’s fucking terrible,” Jett manages through gasping breaths.
“No!” I cry, when I manage to get control of myself. “Remember what you told me, you’re just new at this. Just keep at it.”
There’s a permanent smile on my face as we both go back to it, knitting in relative silence other than the few moments where Jett asks me a question or shows me a mistake and I instruct him how to fix it.
It’s a perfect way to end the day, contentment filling me up and expanding within me, settling over me like quiet snowfall.
At some point, my knitting needles fall to my lap, and my eyes close as I drift off to sleep.
The only reason I’m aware of it, is because I stirred enough to notice when Jett took my knitting out of my hands and covered me with his heavy fur blanket.
CHAPTER 27
JETT
“Already in thegym and it isn’t even six yet?” Dan whistles through his teeth as he strides across the training gym and approaches me. “Who are you?”
I don’t look up at him because I’m focused on the plank I’m holding for five… four… three… two…
I let myself fall to the ground and Dan gently kicks my ribs with his foot.
“Marriage has changed you,” he jokes. “For the better. Poppy must be getting you in line. Normally I’d be banging on your front door to get you hauling ass to training.”
I stand up and grab my towel to blot the sweat from my brow. I’m in the gym earlier than usual, but my sleep was broken anyway last night, and I’m anxious to get back to training.
The whole scandal situation has been a distraction, and with the wedding it’s been hard to keep up my regimen. It’s been an imperative part of my healing since my injury, and even a few missed days can sometimes throw off my game.
“IsMark coming today, or am I just going to be bullied by you?” My words are stilted as I catch my breath.
“He’s on his way,” Dan answers. “I wanted to catch you to go over the game plan for the competition tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sure.”
