Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck.” Wren narrowed their pale eyes. “Later, there will be chicken.”
“Dinner will be ready in a bit.” Jonas translated Wren’s rapid change of topics for me. “Wren and I marinated some chicken and veggies for the grill before the great potato debate broke out between Wren and John.”
“Is that a frequent occurrence?” I glanced toward the back stairs, half expecting a herd of more teens to show up in the kitchen. Ever since my arrival, the house had been abuzz with activity. John’s football friends, including my nephew Cosmo, and Rowan’s drama club friends, which seemed to involve half the school, and Wren’s ever-present science experiments meant little space for peace and quiet, not unlike life in the barracks, but without the structure.
“Teen debates?” Jonas grinned at me. “Absolutely. You’ll get used to it.”
“Here’s to hoping.” I helped myself to a glass of water from the dispenser on the fridge as Wren and their textbook headed for the living room. “How did you get so good with kids?”
“By never fully growing up myself?” Jonas answered my question with a question. “That and working in the ER. I’ve worked any number of cold and flu seasons and summer fluke injury seasons. I see a lot of kids, and I’ve found that rolling with their quirks and meeting them where they are for conversation goes a long way.”
Thinking about that advice, I twisted my lips and wrinkled my nose. It wasn’t nearly as easy as he made it sound. “I never had much time around kids in the Rangers.”
“Yeah, but you practically raised your sisters.” Jonas shrugged. He wasn’t wrong, and I now had a collection of nieces and nephews, including Cosmo, but I was still learning to speak fluent teen. “You’ll fit in here in no time.”
“Thanks.” I wasn’t so sure, but I wouldn’t confess that to the guy who’d been pitching in ever since Eric’s late husband, Montgomery, went into hospice. Jonas and Oz had moved into the basement to help and had stayed on. “And it’s easy for you to say. You’re practically family at this point.”
“So are you, friend.” Jonas clapped me on the shoulder with a large hand. For a big guy, he was surprisingly gentle, and I could see how he would be good with sick kids in the ER. He had a naturally comforting demeanor.
“How’s Eric been holding up?” I asked because questioning Eric was likely to get me nowhere. We hadn’t spoken much since the funeral, and Eric tended to dodge most personal talk.
“About as well as one can under the circumstances.” Jonas started pulling items for a salad out of the fridge next to me. “He has good days and bad. Grief is funny. I’ve been trying to get him to go out more, meet people, do adult stuff like happy hour at The Heist or take up a new hobby, but no-go.”
“Meet people?” I wrinkled my nose. Jonas sounded not unlike my sisters, who used “meet” as a way to soft-pedal their attempts to get me to take up dating. “You’re trying to get Eric to date?”
It hadn’t been that many months, so I could understand Eric’s reluctance. Plus, as someone committed to singledom, I commiserated with his refusal to take Jonas’s well-meaning suggestions.
“Not dating.” Jonas waved away the idea before returning to putting lettuce in a large salad bowl. “He’s rather emphatic that he’s never trying relationships again, but he could use some non-first responder and non-dad friends. Get out there.”
“You’re not hoping…” I worried the inside of my cheek. Jonas and Eric had always been closer than Eric and I. I’d been closest to Sean, who’d gone to the same high school as me and played football as well. While I wanted to help Eric, I hoped Jonas wasn’t motivated by something other than friendship. “Never mind. Not sure how to phrase it.”
“You’re asking if I’m crushing on my oldest friend?” Jonas gave a scoffing laugh that seemed genuine, not like he was trying to cover something. “No. We’ve never gone there. He’s family, like you said. A brother till the end, but not romantic.”
“And, of course, the die-hard romantic of our circle needs romance with a capital R.” I rolled my eyes at him. Where the rest of us had been playing video games and hanging out at the gym, Jonas had dated his way through the LGBTQ+ student organization in between watching the most boring rom-coms of all time.
“Guilty with two failed marriages to show for it.” Blushing, Jonas shrugged his broad shoulders. “And that’s the main reason Eric and I would never work. I’m a romantic. I want someone to take care of, pamper. Someone to watch my silly movies with.”
“Ah.” Once he’d said it, I saw how off my suspicion had been. Jonas needed someone to get all gushy and mushy with. One of my army buddies had recently sent me a meme about “passenger princesses” who liked to let others handle driving. It was supposed to be funny, but I could see Jonas wanting a passenger princess of his own. “That’s definitely not Eric.”