One of These Nights by Kendra Leigh Castle Page B

true to form, had opted to drag her little rolling carry-on and let her little sister do the heavy lifting. Since he was in no shape to be able to help, all he could do was try to shame his mother into helping, and she didn’t shame easily. Actually, he wasn’t sure she could be shamed at all.
    â€œWow, Aunt Moira, I thought Mom was the one who just ran an obstacle course race and a half marathon last month. You been working out?”
    â€œNope. Just naturally buff, obviously,” she replied, and he was glad to see the humor light pretty eyes the same green-hazel as her son’s. His mother turned, looking exasperated, and let go of her carry-on’s handle to put her hand on her hip, taking a swig from her ubiquitous water bottle before commenting.
    â€œOh, stop it, both of you. I’ve had a long day already. The guy in front of me on the plane reclined his seat the whole time, and the woman next to me was wearing enough perfume to gag a maggot.”
    Since his nose was already full of whatever floral bomb she was currently favoring, he didn’t think she had a lot of room to complain. He also made a mental note to pop a couple of aspirin before the headache set in.
    â€œWell, you’re here now,” Jason said, hoping he sounded happier about that than he was.
    â€œYes, I am! Here to take care of my poor baby boy.” She made a show of embracing him then, though he could feel the nervous tension running through her wiry frame. She wasn’t a hugger, not really, but sometimes she tried when she felt the situation warranted it. Her touch filled him with the same uncomfortable mixture of love and bitterness that had come with her presence for at least as long as he’d been able to identify the feelings, and probably a lot longer.
    He patted her back awkwardly, with one hand, and wished the two of them enjoyed each other as much as she and Tommy seemed to. But he wasn’t Tommy, as he’d been continually reminded for most of his life.
    His mother drew back, smiling at him, but her eyes were assessing, the way they always were. “So,” she began, and he knew where things were headed. For once, he’d done something that interested her. “When do I get to meet her?”
    â€œSoon,” Jason said, glancing at the clock on the far wall. “She planned to be here when you got here.”
    â€œOh, that’s sweet! I like her already!” Somehow, he doubted that, but a guy could hope. It was no charming surprise that she’d arrived earlier than planned, with no word. This, he knew, was about gaining the upper hand early. His stomach began to knot, and he tried to regulate his breathing, pushing back the anxiety that might tangle his tongue and provoke unwanted commentary from the woman who’d only reluctantly gotten him help for his childhood stuttering in the first place. He thought of Zoe with more than a hint of remorse and knew he was going to owe her big . . . if she ever spoke to him again after this.
    She’s tough. She can probably out-snob her,
Jason tried to tell himself. But all he could think of was the Chinese food, and the piece of chicken she didn’t know he’d seen her slip to Rosie. And her smile—so new to him, and surprisingly open.
    He stopped himself before his thoughts wandered any further in that direction. There was nothing that way but trouble, and he had enough of that on his hands already.
    â€œAh, do you want to stay for lunch, Aunt Moira?” he asked. She’d dumped the suitcases by the base of the stairs and stood looking around. Jake had filled her in on everything, he knew. And from the small smile playing on her lips, that “everything” included the thorough cleaning the house had gotten yesterday.
    â€œNo, that’s okay, honey. I’ve got some things to do, and we’ll all have dinner sometime this week, I’m sure.” She moved to give her sister a