I’m back in my Seattle home. Jamie slept over, and it’s probably him banging around downstairs. I glance at the clock and my jaw falls open when I see it’s nearing noon.
Chase!
I fly from the bed and run across the hall. He’s not there. Panic grips me, and I hurry downstairs, dash down the hall and practically skid to a halt when I find Chase sitting on the counter, stirring batter and chatting with Jamie. My heart jumps into my throat at the sight of the two.
“Jamie,” I say breathlessly, and his head lifts. His eyes are heavy if not a bit sad as they fall from my face, to take in my near naked body. Dammit, I should have grabbed my robe, but I’d been so worried about my son. I fold my arms over my chest. “I woke up. Chase wasn’t in his room. I…I never sleep that long.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, in a calming manner. “Chase woke up and you were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. I appreciate you looking after him.” I step up to my son, who is smiling as he stirs batter, and give him a big hug. “What are you making?” I ask him, and that’s when I notice all the food on the counter.
“Pancakes,” he informs me.
“Where did all this come from?” I ask Jamie.
“I put an order in.” He shrugs like it’s nothing but it’s not. This was kind and thoughtful, and I’d been giving all my energy to raising Chase—had even been taking care of my mom after her fall a couple months back—that it’s kind of nice not to shoulder the entire load by myself. “Had it delivered. No biggie.”
I glance over the food. Fresh veggies, fish, chicken, fruit, and even the hummus I like. I shake my head, perplexed. “You remembered all my favorites?”
“I took a chance.”
“And a few of your own,” I say with a chuckle, when I see the big slabs of steak.
“Well, yeah. If you’re going to call me in the middle of the night and wake me up, I should at least get a steak dinner out of it, don’t you think?”
I laugh at that, really laugh and it feels good. Jesus, when was the last time I had a good belly laugh. Chase laughs with me, even though he has no idea what’s funny, and so does Jamie. My God, it’s good to see a glimpse of the witty, carefree man I once knew.
“Yes, the least,” I say.
&n
bsp; “Not to mention all the things I agreed to help you with to get this place ready for sale.”
I nudge him with my hip and he stumbles. “I’m going to work you so hard this week, you’re going to need the substance to keep going,” I pause and point to the floor. “Otherwise you’ll be down on your knees.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how sexual they sound. Or maybe they don’t. Maybe just being around Jamie, dressed only in his jeans and barefoot, is messing with my dormant body—reminding me I’m a woman with needs. But I can’t go down that road with him, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to go down it with me, either. It’s wrong on so many levels, and besides that, he has numerous puck bunnies to play with. What would he want with me?
“I got a good start on today already. While you were sleeping, I called for pool repairs, and got hold of a company to come take a look at installing a security system. Both will be here Monday morning.”
“Wow, all this before pancakes. Impressive.”
His grin fades. “I don’t want you to count on me. I’ll just let you down,” he says, and I frown at the level of seriousness in his voice. “But a security system…well, a security system never lets you down.”
My heart skips a beat as I digest what he’s saying. He might have been carefree before the accident, but I could always count on Jamie in the past. What makes him think he’s not responsible or reliable now, or that he’ll only let us down? I’m about to ask when Chase pulls the wooden spoon from the batter and puts it in his mouth.
“Chase, no,” I say.
“Won’t hurt him. It doesn’t have raw eggs.”
Still, I take the spoon, and help him from the counter. “How about you go grab your dinkies and did you see the car mat in your room? Why don’t you bring it down, and play until the pancakes are ready,” I say, and he darts off into the other room. At least the house is still baby-proof and I don’t have to worry about him getting in to anything dangerous.
I walk over to the coffee pot and pour a generous amount into a huge mug. I add a splash of milk and moan as I drink. “Mmm, so good. Thanks, Jamie.”
He gulps in a weird way. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. I’m your brother-in-law and this is what Ethan would have wanted.”
“Okay,” I say. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Jamie pours the batter into a hot pan, and it sizzles and bubbles. “Nope, got it under control. Pancakes are my specialty.”