Page 16

16

JAMIE

I’m the type of guy who usually orders meals in, even if I can cook pretty much anything if I have a recipe to follow. My ma made sure that Ollie and I were capable in the kitchen and would always remind us that women don’t appreciate men who don’t know how to cook. I took that shit to heart and would go so far as to practice making her favourite meals whenever I had the time.

This morning, I was planning on showing off my skills to Blakely and her brother, but one look in the fridge and I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

I might be a smart guy, but I know my limits. Creating an edible meal out of a bottle of mustard, a few slices of processed cheese, and a tomato that’s completely deflated on the bottom is more of a challenge than I’m up for this early.

“Here, scroll through this and let me know what tickles your fancy,” I say once I’ve pulled the menu up for Lucy’s Diner on my phone.

“Sweet!” Nate snatches it from my hand and hunkers down at the kitchen table.

Leaning with her back to the counter, Blakely doesn’t look excited at all, and that doesn’t sit well with me. It’s too early for her to be so in her head.

“If you’re going to tell me that you don’t eat breakfast, you should know that I’m a huge breakfast advocate,” I tease her.

She chomps down on her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact. “We don’t usually have the money to order food. I’m not sure that’s the best way to spend it right now.”

“Did you forget what we spoke about before signing the paperwork?” I ask, taking a single step toward her. “Because I remember telling you that you aren’t spending a dime on anything for the duration of our marriage.”

Her eyes dart to where Nate’s sitting, still enthralled with my phone, before bringing them up to snare mine with unease.

“We’re not married yet.”

Her favourite reminder falls on deaf ears. “A technicality that won’t count for much longer.”

She doesn’t duck away when I risk another couple of steps closer. Her head falls back to keep our eyes connected, and I force myself to stop when there’s only a foot between us.

“I’ve been taking care of him since I was eighteen,” she reveals softly. “Everything we have, I’ve worked hard for.”

She’s twenty-three now. That’s a long time to be carrying everything herself.

“Letting someone else help from time to time isn’t going to take that away,” I murmur.

“Maybe not.”

“It’s only breakfast. We can start easy.”

She releases a breath. “Fine.”

“Hey, Nate, can you order for your sister too?” I ask without looking away from her.

Her hands are linked at her belly the way she seems to do when she seeks comfort. Setting my hand atop hers comes naturally. It feels right to lean forward and bring my lips to the top of her head, leaving them there for a few moments .

She inhales sharply and remains still, not pulling away and slapping me for overstepping.

“Got it! Still like french toast with Nutella, Lake?” Nate asks.

Blakely settles a hand on my chest, poised like she’s going to push me. Then she freezes. I bite back a smirk when she lowers her gaze to where we touch, cheeks blazing.

It wouldn’t take much effort to glide her hand a few inches down to the muscles I love teasing her with. With how fierce her touch burns my skin, I may not survive that, though.

“Loosen up a bit, Bandit. I’ve got you,” I whisper before stepping back, forcing her hand to fall.

She clears her throat and turns to face her brother. “Yeah, Nate. I do.”

Not wanting to continue to crowd her, I join Nate at the table, sitting across from him. He finally looks up and cocks his head at his sister when she takes the spot between us.

“Are you feeling okay? You’re really red.”

“I’m just thinking about how we’re going to explain everything to you,” she says.

“Yeah, I was wondering that too. Just figured you’d wait until we were eating.”

“It’s probably better to just get it done with sooner rather than later. Is everything added to the order?” I ask.

“Yep. Here you go. I’ve already put our address in too.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

He hands over the phone, and I add my breakfast to the cart before scrolling through what he’s chosen. It’s a bit slim and lacking the protein I’d recommend for a kid his age, but today isn’t about all that shit.

A couple of minutes later, the food is ordered and I’m setting my phone down on the table. Blakely watches me, her features tight and leg bouncing beneath the table.

“How about I start?” I offer, cutting through the tension.

Nate nods eagerly. “I’m listening.”

I meet Blakely’s nervous stare and attempt to calm her with a half smile. “Your sister is doing me a massive favour, Nate. But I need you to promise the both of us that you won’t share what we tell you before we spill the beans.”

“And we really mean that. You can’t tell a soul what you learn today. Not your friends or teammates. Not even a stranger. This is serious, but I just don’t want to lie to you,” Blakely says sternly, no room for discussion in her voice.

Nate furrows his brows slightly. “Okay, now I’m getting worried.”

“It’s nothing bad. Just super secret. If anyone outside of this room found out about this, there would be major repercussions,” I explain.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Swear it, Nathan,” Blakely urges, her hand palm up and hovering above the table.

He copies her, and before I know it, they’re spitting on each other’s hands and shaking.

My brows shoot to my hairline while my dick twitches in my wrinkled slacks at how confident and unbothered she is shaking a spit-slicked palm.

“It’s sworn, Lake,” Nate says before wiping his hand on his PJ pants.

Blakely does the same with her sweatpants and sneaks a look at me that she tries to play off by staring just past my head.

I want to ask her when they started doing that handshake. For now, it gets scrawled on my growing To Learn About Blakely list.

“Before you freak out about anything, you have to hear us out to the very end,” she warns Nate.

He’s adorably eager as he nods quickly. “Okay.”

Blakely and I share a look before she gives me the go-ahead to speak first. I throw caution to the wind and get right to the point.

“I’m going to marry your sister, Nate.”

By the time breakfast arrives half an hour later, Nate still hasn’t said a word. I didn’t hold back with my explanation, and while I thought that was the right choice, maybe it wasn’t . . .

Blakely passes him a couple of syrup packs, looking worried at his silence. It could just be that he’s in shock. That would be the best-case scenario.

If he told her he didn’t approve of what we’re doing, I know that would kill a part of her. I’d wind up never playing another CFL game after telling Graham to rip up our paperwork so she didn’t have to ruin her relationship with her brother over this.

“You’re freaking me out, Nate,” she says once he’s cut into his stack of pancakes.

I spread salt over my scrambled eggs and mush my avocado onto the toast while glancing between the two of them.

“ I’m freaking you out? It’s the other way around!” Nate shouts, breaking out of his shocked state. He lifts his syrupy fork to point at his sister. “You knew about this when you got me those shoes and didn’t say anything.”

“Is that what you’re the most upset about?” she asks cautiously.

Nate rolls his eyes. “I’m not even upset, Lake. I just wish you had told me earlier.”

“That’s it?”

“Do you want me to be angry with you for marrying my favourite football player like ever ?”

“It isn’t a real marriage,” she blurts out.

He looks to me. “You said there would be a wedding.”

“There will be. It will be real in the eyes of everyone but those of us who know the truth.”

Blakely taps her fork to the side of her plate. “You’ll be at the wedding, right, Nate? I only agreed to doing a small ceremony, but I want you there.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll be there. Real or not, you’re getting married.”

She visibly relaxes, and seeing her loosen up helps me do the same. It’s a good sign. A promising one.

“And you’re okay with moving into my place?” I ask Nate.

His eyes bulge at the reminder of the topic I breezed over earlier. “Yes! Totally cool with that. When are we doing that, exactly? Because the eviction notice said we only have?—”

“Nathan!” Blakely explodes, fear written across her face as clear as I’ve ever seen it on anyone.

Worry gnaws at me. “Eviction notice?”

Blakely pushes away from the table and wraps an arm around her middle. “Not everything has to be public knowledge.”

“It’s not public! It’s just Jamie,” Nate defends.

I stand and face Blakely, leaning a hand against the table. “I’m your fiancé. If you’re in trouble, I want to help.”

She avoids looking at me, and I don’t say anything about it. Don’t tease her or make a lame joke. Odds are that right now, she’d kick me out if I did.

“Blakely doesn’t like letting other people help with anything. I’ve been asking to use my savings to pay for my football, but she refuses,” Nate explains.

I shake my head. “I’ll be paying for all of that now.”

She glares at him and then me, her mouth parted around silent words before snapping shut.

“How long do you need to pack your stuff?” I ask.

A smile spreads slowly over Nate’s face. “Are you saying that we can move in soon?”

It’s Blakely that I focus on, even as she tries to pretend neither her brother nor I are here right now. I get her reaction completely. While Nate was only trying to help, having me know something as sensitive as them being kicked out of this place has made her put her walls up. Maybe she expected me to judge her the way she feared I would last night, or it’s just taken her by surprise. Either way, I’m trying my best not to show too much of a reaction to it, even if I’m crawling out of my skin with worry.

I meet Nate’s waiting eyes and put on a relaxed front. “Today, preferably. If your sister is okay with that.”

“Today?” she guffaws, hands now on her hips.

“Do you want to stay longer? I have my brother’s wedding in three days and a game Saturday, but we could make it work for Sunday if you’d prefer.”

Nate deflates, and Blakely notices immediately. Her inhale is deep, sounding like it’s almost painful.

After what feels like forever, she looks at me. The war in her eyes puts me in motion.

Shoving my hesitation down, I make the decision for her and hope to God I haven’t made the wrong one or overstepped in a way that’s going to set me back a couple of weeks of progress.

“You got a bag, Bandit? We’re getting out of here.”

Her shoulders droop, relief travelling across her features. I feel real fucking good getting that reaction from her. It’s almost like I can read her just as well as she can read me.

She’s had to carry a heavy load on her shoulders for years, having to be the one to make the hard decisions. I think she might enjoy handing that responsibility over to someone else from time to time.

“Yeah, Jamie. I have a bag.” She focuses on where Nate’s bouncing in place. “We both do.”