Page 15 of The Last Love Story (Baker Girls #3)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JUSTIN

My phone hasn’t stopped going off the entire drive from the airport to Woods Junction.

After a whirlwind of a day, we’re almost back to Jade’s house.

We took a few photos and had a champagne toast after the wedding, then went right to our hotel rooms, changed and packed up, then left for the airport.

I surprised Jade with first-class seats since I had to book a flight for myself anyway.

Now, it’s just after seven at night, and we’re both exhausted, but we should be there any minute.

And the group chat has been keeping me entertained. I might’ve been a chaos gremlin and sent a text to the friend group right before I got on the plane and wouldn’t be able to answer.

It was entertaining when I finally got off the plane.

I laugh out loud when I read the latest message.

“What now?” Jade asks with a smile.

“Frannie wants to know if I married you just so I could get spoilers for the rest of the Marianos series.” I side-eye her. “Do I get spoilers?”

Jade’s smile morphs into something much more troublemaking. “If you wanted spoilers, you should’ve put it in the contract.”

“That’s just mean.”

She winks at me, then puts her turn signal on, visibly relaxing as she pulls into the driveway.

“Well, here we are. This is home.”

Jade pulls the car to a stop and lets out a long breath.

“It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

It’s a big square-ish house, with the top floor a bit smaller than the bottom. When she described the two-story setup, I imagined it might be small or cramped, but from the outside, it looks spacious.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” She yawns and stretches as she climbs out of the car.

I grab our bags from the trunk and swat her hand away when she tries to take hers.

“Let me do husbandly things.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Whatever you want.”

She leads the way to the side of the house, and we take the stairs up to the second floor. When she swings the door open, I’m hit with a wave of warmth. Not physically. The air conditioning is running, and it’s nice and cool. It’s an emotional sensation. Peaceful.

“This is it,” she says. “Not huge, but it’s cozy.”

“It’s comfortable. And I mean that in the best possible way. It’s a home, not a house.”

It’s almost like I’ve been here before, though outside of the city, I’ve never explored New York. It’s familiar. Like coming home. The word settles in my gut and the warmth I felt when I walked in spreads.

“Glad you think so. You’re stuck with it.

” She looks around. “It’s a lot nicer than when I bought it.

The structure was good, and I love the location, but the inside was a mess.

My dad and a couple of his contractor friends—one of whom lives downstairs—helped fix it up.

” She moves through the apartment, turning lights on, though I stay planted in the entryway portion of the living room, taking it all in.

“And by helped, I mean they did all the work while I gave them ideas.”

The living room is open to the kitchen and dining area, which is a good size.

“Was it a two-family when you bought it?”

“Yeah, but there were still stairs inside connecting the two floors. About where you’re standing, actually. My dad blocked it off, but made sure it was easily reversible if I ever wanted to turn it back into a single-family home.”

Slipping my shoes off, I follow her into the apartment. She has a massive L-shaped couch that takes up most of the living room. There’s also a large rectangular coffee table, a TV stand with a built-in bookcase, and another tall bookcase to the side.

“Your dad used to be a contractor?” I ask, walking past the dining table and around the counter into the kitchen, where Jade is sitting.

“Yeah, he was hurt in a forklift accident when I was young and pivoted to working with accessibility in contracting. It’s strange to say, but I think it worked out better for him.

It was a long recovery, and he still has some mobility issues, but he loves his life.

He also runs a YouTube cooking channel.” She shrugs.

“He’s never been the type to let anything hold him back, and he’s always encouraged me to live the same way. ”

“He seems awesome. We didn’t talk for too long this morning, but it’s clear how much he cares for you, and also how much he respects you. I’m glad he was there for you today.”

Jade beams at that.

“I’m glad he came too. I was… a little upset on Friday at the thought of him not being there.”

“I wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve called and talked to him about it?— ”

She waves a hand dismissively, then fills a cup with water from the fridge and hands it to me.

“You didn’t need to. And it all worked out okay.”

“What about your mom?”

She snorts at that. “I’ll tell her. Soon.

Ish. I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m glad she wasn’t there.

She would’ve been saying things like are you sure about that dress?

Or really, the book arch? Or telling me to wear different shoes or criticizing my makeup, saying my dress was too short.

” Her voice drops. “Or making a comment about my weight.”

“What?” I growl. Because fuck anyone who thinks they should comment on anyone else’s weight, ever .

Jade sighs and hoists herself onto the counter.

“My mom wanted the tiny, pretty, popular girl, and she got me. She’s always had some sort of critique, but honestly, who cares?

She was too busy flitting around the world on her ‘wellness’ adventures with her boyfriend of the moment to actually raise me, so her thoughts don’t mean much to me.

They’re mostly just annoying. She didn’t actually want a child.

She wanted a human doll she could dress pretty and control.

That’s not me. I’ve never been good at fitting in the boxes people say I should fit into. ”

I set my glass down and walk over to her, cupping her cheeks.

“And you never should. Take up space and don’t take anyone’s shit.”

She breathes in heavily, eyes locked on mine.

The world around us seems to slow down and go blurry. There’s only the two of us and the sparks of our connection.

She licks her lips, and reality tries to push its way in.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what we’re doing. We kissed this morning, and it was fucking incredible, but does that mean we’re kissing now? Is it a thing? I don’t know.

So, almost painfully, I drop my hands and take a step back.

After a long moment, Jade slides off the counter. “Want a tour? ”

“Yeah. Show me the digs.”

The digs? What is wrong with me?

It seems to knock some of the tension out of her shoulders, though, so I roll with it and follow her out of the kitchen.

“This is the hallway. Very exciting. And on the right, we have the bathroom. It’s massive, and it has two doors. One to the hall and one to my bedroom. So make sure you lock the applicable one when you’re using it. Come on. We’ll cut through.”

She leads me through the bathroom, opening cabinets to point out where towels and toiletries are, then pulls open the other door into her bedroom.

“This is my room and writing sanctuary.”

It’s a big room with plush beige carpeting, a king-size bed, and two windows on the far wall.

A desk sits in the corner near one of them.

The other has an air conditioning unit in it.

Weird, because I’m pretty sure there’s central AC, but whatever.

I think she told me once she’d never survive in the heat of the south, so maybe that’s why.

Either way, as I walk through the space, I can’t help but hope I’ll be lucky enough to earn an invitation to this room one day.

We end up in the hallway again. Then she opens the door across the hall, revealing a much smaller room.

“I know you said you’ll need a place to record, and this should work.

We’ll have to move a couple of my bookcases—or better yet, finally get some good shelving for the closet I don’t use so I can store most of my books in there.

The only thing I really need in here is my book packaging station in the corner. ”

“This should definitely work. Thanks.”

She laughs a little. “It’s the least I can do.”

We walk back down the hall and she points to the two closets—one for cleaning and house supplies, the other for linens.

She grabs sheets and blankets from the linen closet and we head back to the living room.

“I promise the couch is super comfy.”

“I believe you,” I say gently. The last thing I want is for her to feel awkward or uncomfortable about any of this .

“Okay, well, uh…” She sighs. “I feel gross. Okay if I shower?”

“As long as I get to shower after you.”

“Actually, you go first, and I’ll unpack while you do that. Just open the door from the bathroom to my bedroom when you’re done. And if you need to unpack anything, you can put it in the closet in the book room.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

She nods, and we stare at each other for a moment, then I squeeze her hand and aim for the shower.

I’m in the kitchen warming up lasagna Papa Jackson left in the fridge when Jade walks in, hair wet and looking much more relaxed in an oversized tee and sexy little booty shorts.

I nod at her shirt. “Han Solo, huh?”

She looks down, then back up at me, biting her lip. “Yeah. I love the original Star Wars movies and he was my first crush.”

“Harrison Ford?”

She looks horrified by the thought. “No. Han Solo. Ageless fictional character. Harrison Ford is older than my dad.”

I chuckle at that and pull the plate of lasagna from the microwave.

“Not an age gap girl?”

“Not that big of one. Unless it’s a five-hundred-year-old fae, but I’m okay with that because they still look and act like a twenty-five to thirty-year-old and if they’re immortal or semi-immortal, that’s kind of their thirty.”

“Fair enough. Ready to eat?”

“So ready.”

The toaster oven goes off and she smiles happily. “He made garlic bread too?”

“Yep.”