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I smile, and look back at Jonas's closed door, my plans for the evening going up in smoke. "No," I say, looking back at Ransom. "I think I'll wait for him." I give Nick and Maverick a little wave, and turn to go.
"Janey," Ransom says, stopping me in my tracks. "I just wanted to check in on how things are going with your family?"
I spin slowly to face him, and tighten my fingers on my purse. "How are things going?" My voice squeaks at the end. When Boss Ransom is talking to me, I have no trouble keeping calm. But it's not Boss Ransom talking, it's big brother Ransom.
"We’re pretty used to talking to each other. We don’t really keep secrets. Jonas is worried about you. He wants to help with your family."
As always, the mention of my family makes the back of my neck heat up. "They're my problem."
He frowns and shakes his head. "No honey, they're ours. You're one of us, so anything that bothers you is on our radar." He tucks his hands in his pockets and leans on the hallway wall looking from the men in his office, to me. "We got where we are today by being a team, and looking out for each other. That's what a good family does. I get that you didn't have that growing up, so this is all new. But for his sake, please, let Jonas help. He wanted to go after your stuff and you shut him down. He wanted to go after that asshole Keith, and you shut him down. Let him help with your family, please."
I drop my purse down to my side. "I don't want them to infect him." I whisper.
Nick and Maverick rise, and move to join us in the doorway. "What does that mean Janey?" Maverick asks.
I wet my lips, and stare down at the toes of my simple black shoes. Jonas fussed over them this morning, worried I'd be too cold walking from the car into the office. He lectured me the entire way into the building about proper footwear.
Even his lectures make me feel loved. He cares so much about me, he worries about me all the time. My father barely noticed me, but Jonas knows what brand of socks I like, and spent ten minutes studying them. He wanted to understand what comfort meant to me. I'm sure he's processing and thinking, and one day will present me with another brand of socks that I'll love even more, because he's matched up all my criteria and done the research.
"Despite all my stupid mistakes, Jonas looks at me like I'm special. I don't want him to see where I grew up. I don't want him to listen to anything my family has to say about me. I just want to move forward."
Nick makes a low sound. "Ah, Querida, you're worrying about nothing. We know you. We see you. And nothing anyone has to say about you will change our minds. We love you, and you're ours. We don't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion."
Maverick crosses his arms over his chest. "He's right. We know you, Janey. You're a blessing to us. To all of us. That's not going to change."
A blessing. I breathe deeply, letting those words soak into my soul.
"I'll think about it," I whisper, giving them a small smile. It's the best I can do right now, and they must know that, because they don't push any more. "Goodnight. We'll see you...well soon I'm sure. You guys are always around."
They laugh as I walk away. I stop suddenly, looking back at them. "You are going to make incredible husbands one day. Whoever you end up with will be so lucky." Ransom's face is serious as he nods, but Maverick and Nick break into grins.
"Your lips to God's ear Querida," Nick says, slapping his hands together in prayer and looking up to the ceiling. Maverick snorts and winks at me. With another wave, I head down the hallway. I knock gently on Jonas's door, then let myself in when I don't get an answer.
He's standing, lost in thought, in front of a whiteboard covered in numbers and equations. My eyes cross just looking at it for a minute. I quietly move to the couch, and settle in, slipping my shoes off and tucking my coat under my head. I have a perfect view of him.
He is so beautiful.
His sweater is thrown over the back of his chair, leaving him in a simple black t-shirt. Those t-shirts have become an obsession of mine. They cling to his muscles so perfectly, hugging them. And they're the softest shirts I've ever felt. They must cost a million bucks each, they feel so good.
Jona's dark pants hint at the strength beneath them. He walks around in shorts at home all the time, so I know exactly how strong he is. No teeny calves here. Nope, everything about him is finely honed.
I fall into a bit of a doze watching him, but the rumble of my stomach pulls me from my daze. It's too distracting to ignore. Other than scratching the back of his neck, Jonas doesn't acknowledge my presence. I can't decide if I'm annoyed at his ability to tune me out, or if I admire his focus.
Maybe a bit of both.
Leaving my stuff on the couch, I quietly pad out of the office and along the hallway. Ransom's office is dark, most of the lights on this floor are off and the whole place is in shadows. I've never been past Ransom's office, but my hunger sends me down the hallway toward the bathrooms. A little turn, and I spot another door. I prop it open, the light from the hallway shining into a small lunchroom. I head straight for the cupboards, and I'm in luck. Along with the fruit in a basket on the counter, I have my choice of granola bars. I haven't eaten one since that night. It feels like years ago. Everything is so different now.
"Janey."
Jonas's voice startles a squeak out of me. But I don't have time to turn before he's pressed against my back. I flash to the last time we were in a break room together. He was pressed up against me then too. But that version of me didn't know all the beauty that is Jonas. She didn't know just how incredible he is. Or know what his tongue feels like on —.
Jonas's hand wrapping around mine startles me. He brings our hands up, mine still clutching the unwrapped granola bar, up to his mouth. In two quick bites and a gentle nip of my fingers, it's gone. "More," he murmurs, rubbing the side of his face against my cheek.
I fumble for an orange from the basket, and peel it with shaking fingers, the sharp clean citrus smell wafting up. Finally, I pull off a section and raise it to Jonas's mouth. He takes it with a groan, then reaches for my hands again. I pull another piece off aiming for his mouth, but he intercepts me, gently pulling the slice from my hand, and raising it to my mouth. I take a bite, savoring the treat. Jonas nudges my lips, and I open, accepting the rest.
We alternate, me feeding him, him feeding me, until my heart is racing so fast, I'm feeling lightheaded. Or maybe that's hunger.
No. It's definitely Jonas.
