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I press my lips to his in answer just as a knock on the door disrupts the moment. “Are you almost done? I need to go potty,” Clementine states from the hall.
“Just a second, pumpkin.” I peek up at Jonas. “As long as you can handle the two of us, you may dote upon me any day of the week.”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He steps back, adjusts himself in his sweatpants, and opens the door with a smile on his face. “‘Morning, sunshine.”
Clementine narrows her eyes with suspicion. “Why are you both in the bathroom? That’s weird.”
“We didn’t want to wake you while we brushed our teeth,” Jonas answers without delay.
And as if his answer needs no further questioning, Clementine shrugs and relaxes her expression. “Okay. Can I go now?” She points toward the toilet.
“Sorry, pumpkin.”
We scurry out of the bathroom and leave her be. Heading into the kitchen, we start our morning like a family. Jonas and I take out ingredients to make chocolate chip pancakes, cheesy scrambled eggs, and turkey bacon. We move seamlessly in the small space as if this normal task happens daily. While I whisk the eggs, he ladles batter on a hot skillet and sprinkles it with mini chips. The bacon sizzles in the oven as I pour the eggs into a pan.
Jonas deposits the first batch of pancakes on a plate, butters the skillet again, and adds more batter. Spatula midair, he glances my way. “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but you and Clementine shouldn’t be alone. Not until the case ends.”
I stop scraping the eggs from left to right and peer over at him. He means well. Wants to protect me. Protect us. But if I am supposed to live my life normally, that means I will be alone from time to time. Or with only Clementine. How can I not be?
“Jonas, I get where you’re coming from. I understand it. But how am I supposed to follow a regular routine—work, school, errands—if I” —I pause and take a deep breath— “we need a bodyguard all the time.”
He flips the pancakes, sets the spatula down, and steps closer. I peek over my shoulder and check Clementine isn’t eavesdropping. “We’ll find a way. Between me, Penny, everyone at the shop, and our friends, we can make it happen. We need to.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. Jonas grazes his knuckles down my cheek. “It’s only temporary. And if something happens to either of you, I won’t be able to live with myself.”
I turn the heat on the stove to low and face him fully. His eyes bore into me, glassy and a tinge red. Concern written in the underscoring on his forehead. I snake my arms around his waist and rest my cheek over his heart. Warm arms envelop and hug me with renewed strength. “It won’t be easy.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles into my hair.
“How will we get everyone in on the plan?” A legitimate question, considering not everyone knows the details of my past.
Jonas kisses the crown of my head and releases me, stepping back to the skillet. “The shop is closed today?” I nod. “Let’s invite everyone over for an impromptu cookout. We can use my birthday as the initial excuse.”
Not a bad idea. The guys will definitely be down for a gathering if we involve food and drinks. Penny will get Iliana on board. The last time we all did something outside of work was too long ago. Years ago, we’d hang out a Sunday per month. Nothing special, just enjoying life and seeing each other somewhere besides the same four walls.
“Okay. After breakfast, I’ll get the ball rolling with everyone from the shop. What time?”
“Is five good? We can chat a bit while I get the grill going. Eat around six.”
“Should be fine. Clementine will also get to play with Ashton, Rez’s little boy.”
Jonas cooks the last of the pancakes while I take the bacon from the oven. We plate up the food and sit at the breakfast bar with Clementine, sharing our plan for the day. A lazy morning, followed by house cleanup and a trip to the grocery store before having friends over. She chimes in with food she wants added to the grocery list and tells Spartan he will meet one of her friends today.
After texting our friends and watching hours of Sunday morning cartoons, we decide to vacate the couch and get to work. The inside of the house sparkles within the hour. A candle lit in the living area wafts the scent of fresh cotton around the house. Jonas goes outside to check the grill, making sure we have enough charcoal.
The trip to the grocery store goes quicker than expected, but we walk out with more than our list of items. Every time Clementine pointed to something and begged, Jonas caved and added it to the cart. Thankfully, she only did this a handful of times. She picked good things, though—s’mores making supplies, a couple movie night candies, and berries to go with our leftover cake.
Back at the house, Jonas marinates chicken and forms burger patties while I cook pasta and potatoes for salads. Clementine digs out colored pencils, crayons, and a coloring book from her stuffed overnight bad. Sneaky girl brought everything.
We finish prepping whatever possible. Every opportunity we get, Jonas and I exchange touches. A forearm graze. A kiss on the cheek as he reaches for a gadget. His front brushing against my back as he moves past me. My fingers tracing his low back as I set the strainer in the sink.
Will it always be like this? The constant need to touch each other. For me to feel his warmth and strength and love. To be near him, to see him, to smile with him. Some may consider our attachment unhealthy. Clingy. I say, when you find the person who connects all the dots perfectly, the person who makes you see the whole constellation and not just a mess of stars, do what makes your heart happy.
Yes, I pushed us apart when Leo made an appearance. But it was maternal instinct to shut everything down and protect my daughter. Little did I know, Jonas was equally willing to go to battle for her to stay. And no matter what is thrown at us going forward, I won’t make the same mistake.
The doorbell chimes and snaps my attention to Clementine, who peeks out the window and waves like a loon. “People are here.”
That she doesn’t mention names has me heading for the window. Glancing out, I spot Cora and Gavin. Walking up the drive is Erin, Shelly, and Micah. “Those are my and Jonas’s friends. The ones we went bowling with.” Clementine nods.
Jonas opens the door and invites everyone in. I introduce Clementine to everyone and she gives each of them a hug. The guys loiter in the kitchen and catch up while us ladies sit in the living room. Less than five minutes pass before Clementine bolts up from her spot at the coffee table and peeks out the window. The recognizable low rumble of Reznor’s car echoes outside.
