Justifying Jack (The Wounded Warriors Book 2) by Simone Beaudelaire, J.M. Northup Page B

unlatch himself. “I want out! Mama, help! I want to go too!”
    “Calm down there, little man,” Jack reached back and easily released the energetic boy from his constraints. “We're all going in together, okay?”
    Andres nodded wildly with wide eyes, wasting no time in slipping out of his car seat. Marithé had barely made it out of the car to open the back door before the kids were trying to shove past her, anxious to check everything out. Elena was impatient, complaining loudly when she had to wait for Andres to get lifted out of the vehicle. Andres was just as impatient, reaching for his mother, quickly opening and closing his hands, dancing in place until she scooped him up and then squirming violently until she set him on the ground.
    “Oh my,” Marithé exclaimed. “I guess they're sold too, huh?”
    Jack chuckled. “It's looking that way to me.”
I hope they like it as much inside as they do outside.
    Jack led the small group into the house using the side door, just off the driveway. Immediately upon entering, the youngsters took off to explore on their own.
    “Elena!” Marithé barked after them. “Andres!”
    Jack laid a gentle hand on her outstretched arm. “It's okay. Let them go.”
    She dropped her arm slowly. “Are you sure? I mean, I'd hate for them to…”
    “Please, stop. There's no need to worry. They can't hurt anything,” Jack smiled and then gestured toward the expansive kitchen. “So, what do you think? Is this a proper functioning kitchen for someone who knows how to use it?”
    Marithé giggled softly and then turned serious as she took in the space around her. “Not bad. Not bad at – oh! You have a double oven!” Moving swiftly to investigate the appliances, she absently added, “I could use that when I get baking.”
    I love how her eyes light up like that. I knew she'd like it!
Jack couldn't help feeling proud that he'd found a home which appealed to her. “Well, you're welcome to use it anytime inspiration strikes. There's a microwave too.”
    She looked at him, her cheeks slightly flushed from her excitement. “Really?”
    “Yeah, the microwave is right there,” he teased, knowing that wasn't what she meant. Turning serious eyes toward her, he reaffirmed himself. “Really, Marithé. You know you're always welcome. Mi casa es su casa.”
    Marithé giggled. “Impressive.”
    Jack shrugged. “It's one of the only things I know how to say in Spanish. Well, that and curse words, of course.”
    “No way!” she almost shouted, confusing Jack until he realized a new find had drawn her attention. “There's a dishwasher… and the fridge… it has an ice maker?”
    Their housing adventures were interrupted when Elena's voice carried through the house. “No, Andres! Stop it!” The pair raced to where the children were, greeted by an indignant Elena and an ornery Andres.
    “What's going on? What happened?” Marithé inquired. “Why are you tugging on your brother like that?” She immediately peeled the irritated girl off the fussy boy.
    “I told him not to go in there,” Elena pointed towards the master bedroom, which sat across the hall from two smaller bedrooms with a bathroom not only joining the rooms, but opening to the hallway as well. “But he's not listening to me. Mama, tell him he needs to listen to me.”
    “Elena, this isn't your house and you aren't the grownup here,” Marithé chastened the little darling, releasing Andres in order to prop her hands on her hips.
    Andres took advantage of his freedom and his mother's distraction to try to shimmy past Elena, darting towards the large bedroom. Much to his chagrin, Elena had an eagle eye on him and moved into the way, effectively blocking him from making it past her. “I want in!”
    “No!” Elena hollered back with a growl. “You can't go in there.”
    Marithé started to look distraught, obviously disturbed by her daughter's behavior. “Elena, what did I just say?”
    “Mama,” Elena complained,