Next In Line: A Cake Series Novel

by J. Bengtsson

  “I’ll do it all in my chair.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “You don’t believe me? I’m sitting in a load of crap right now.”

  Jess cocked her head back before a laugh shot from her mouth. Sometimes laughing was all you could do. I knew with my own family how powerful humor could be. It had gotten us through the worst of times, and it had clearly also seen Jess through.

  Upon hearing her laughter, her father snapped his grumpy mouth shut. But I swear I saw the very slightest flicker of amusement pass through his eyes.

  “You’re ridiculous, Dad. Now, get your head back in the game. You wanted this, remember? You’re just frustrated because it’s taking longer to get you into a facility than we anticipated. Once you complete your rehab, you’ll thank me.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. You’re dead to me, Jess. Dead.”

  “Uh-huh. Okay. I love you too,” she said, handing him the bag she’d brought in for him. Damn, I loved the way this woman handled stress.

  He grumbled something incoherent.

  “I have the clothes you asked for, and there might be a bag of your favorite gummy worms in there.”

  “Are they infused with whiskey?”

  “Nope. Plain old gummy worms.”

  “Well, fuck!”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. Love you, Dad.”

  She grabbed my hand, raised that head of hers high again, and strolled out of there like she owned the place. I was awestruck. This woman was my queen.

  We didn’t speak again until we got back in the car.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, making no excuses. “He’s always such a cuddly little fella.”

  “Adorable, really,” I agreed. “My favorite part was when he thought I looked like someone who’d have cocaine on me.”

  She gripped my cheeks in her fingers. “You dime-bag tweaker, you.”

  I laughed even though so many questions were running wild through my head. Was this her secret, the reason she felt she could no longer see me? If so, she had to know I’d be here to support her, not knock her down.

  “How long has he been homeless?”

  “Off and on for years. I’ve tried to bring him in, get him help, but he never stays.”

  “That’s a gnarly injury. What happened to his leg?”

  “He was sleeping in some bushes when a car jumped the sidewalk and landed on his leg. He had surgery, and once he’d recovered enough to be moved, I brought him here. He’s waiting for a spot to open up for him in a rehab facility. In the meantime, he’s withdrawing hard.”

  “Shouldn’t it already be through his system?”

  “Technically, yes, but Victor Bello is nothing if not resourceful. He always finds a way to poison himself. If licking windowsills would get him blitzed, he’d do it. Some days I visit him and he’s flying so high he doesn’t know who I am.”

  “When will a spot open up?”

  “It’s hard to say. These are public rehab centers. They’re free, so that’s good, but there’s always a wait and they’re cookie cutter. Very generic. My dad’s been in these before, and… I mean, they’re better than nothing, but I wish I could get him into a private facility because they’re customized to an individual’s specific needs.”

  “But the private ones cost too much money?”

  “Yes. I’ve tried to get Andrea to help me, maybe split the cost, but she and our father don’t get along.”

  “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

  She trailed her fingers over the back of my hand so absently that I wasn’t sure if she realized she was doing it. “I wish you could have seen him before. Back in the day when he still had a job and was taking care of himself, he was strong and robust, filling out a suit with such swagger. I can still remember the smell of his cologne and the way he slicked his hair back. I didn’t think there was a dad alive as handsome as mine. I barely recognize the man in there. If we passed on the street, I might not even know it was him. But I know he’s still in there, my handsome, loving dad, and that is why I fight.”

  I nodded, finding her passion so appealing and real. She made me wonder why I’d ever wanted an uncomplicated girl when I could have one like Jess, a woman who lived and felt and fought like hell.

  “He’s lucky to have you.”

  “Yes, he is.” She smiled. “Who’s lucky to have you, Quinn?”

  “You.”

  Jess blinked, surprised. “Are you mine?”

  “I could be.”

  She studied me, like an experiment she wasn’t sure had gone right. “Why do you like me so much? You basically have your pick of amazing women, and yet you go on a worldwide hunt for one working class girl. Why?”

  “Because my whole life I’ve struggled to connect with people. After the kidnapping, I was different. Changed. For the longest time I thought I was broken because I could never relate to anyone outside of my family. And then along came my getaway girl, and suddenly I realized maybe I just needed you to fix me. Jess, I think you unbroke me.”

  She appeared almost shaken by my words. I pressed my thumb against her lip and she turned her head into me, her eyes closing, giving in. I kissed the line of her jaw, then her ears, and finally started working down over her throat.

  She didn’t resist, but she didn’t encourage, either. I could feel a heaviness coming off her that hadn’t been there before. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Listen, Quinn,” she said, running her finger through the wayward strand of hair flipping around my ears. “Remember when you told me all I needed was one piece of your puzzle to know everything about you? Well, I also have a missing a piece of the puzzle—one that explains everything about me. It explains why I’m no longer that girl who broke into my mother’s home. It explains why I didn’t text you back. This piece is everything. And I didn’t tell you the day we met because I didn’t think you could handle it. I like you way more than I care to admit, and it killed me to ignore your texts. But this piece, Quinn…” She shook her head. “It could be a game changer for us.”

  As far as I was concerned, there was nothing she could say, short of telling me she was married that would detract me from my mission—which was winning the girl.

  “Hey.” I kissed her. It was brief and tender, but it was only meant for comfort. “I think you forgot that I grew up in a tornado. There isn’t much I can’t handle.”

  She watched me, analyzing. Deciding.

  “Actually, change of plans. I was going to tell you, but I think maybe it’s better if I show you instead.”

  I followed Jess inside a seventies-style brown and brick building—a community center, according to the sign out front. There were a handful of entrances, all appearing to lead to different offices. But Jess knew exactly where she was going, and with each step I took, so did I. The sounds of children playing was my first clue. The second was the large multipurpose room decorated in colorful splashes of paint with child-friendly activities all around. The third was the large play area out back with scores of kids running about. It was then that I knew. Jess had a kid.

  Her eyes locked on mine. What did she want me to say? I wasn’t opposed to kids; they’d just never been on my radar of must-haves. But now I understood why she’d kept me at bay. Jess was a mother, and I was pretty damn sure I knew who the father was.

  A boy broke free from the group and ran up to us. He was a skinny kid with floppy brown skater hair blowing in the wind. He was sporting a cast on his arm, the second relative of hers wearing one today. They were an injury-prone group.

  “Mom,” he said, catapulting himself into her. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him in his wayward hair.

  I tried to stay neutral and project the required ‘Relax, girl, I got this’ swagger. But I didn’t ‘got this.’ I was rattled. People didn’t shock me often, but Jess managed to do just that.

  She had a kid… a fact that was currently freaking me out. I’d thought I knew who she was, but I didn’t know this woman at all.
r />   The boy disengaged from his mother and squinted up at me. “You’re Quinn McKallister, aren’t you?”

  I looked to Jess, wondering what she’d told him about me. “I am.”

  “I saw you at the press conference.”

  “He was with me that day in the bus.” Jess immediately clarified his statement as if she were always a step behind sweeping up after him. “We saw you talking to the reporters.”

  His eyes widened, and he poked her in the stomach. “Wait—are you Jesserella?”

  “I’m never going to live that name down. Yes, I’m Jesserella, but it’s Mom to you. But look at me, Noah.” She lifted his chin up. “Quinn and I are just friends. Don’t be blabbing it all around that we’re anything else, okay?”

  “Sure, Mom,” he said, full-on face-winking at her like he didn’t believe a word she was saying but that he’d play along if she insisted.

  I laughed. My god. He was like a carbon copy of his mother.

  “Quinn, this is my son, Noah.”

  I could hear in her tone how difficult this was for her, and it occurred to me then that she didn’t do this very often—introduce men to her son—and even though I was still working my way through the shock, I wanted to make it easier on her. Besides, kids didn’t scare me. I was the fun uncle, and as far as these little booger-eaters went, this one seemed fairly easy.

  “Hey, dude,” I said as I bent over and offered a hand for a high five.

  Noah readily accepted the greeting, even winding up to take his shot.

  “Ouch.” I jumped back, shaking out my hand out. I knew how little boys worked. The more perceived damage they did, the better. “Dang, you’ve got an arm on you.”

  “Baseball,” he offered up as explanation.

  “Ah, okay, I thought maybe you punched walls or something.”

  He laughed. Hysterically. Which, in turn, made me laugh. This kid was full of it. Whatever it was. I glanced up at Jess. She looked nervous, a row of perfectly lined teeth trapping her lip below. I mustered up a smile even though I was still losing it on the inside.

  “Do you have any more of these guys?” I asked.

  “Uh…no. Noah is my one and only. He’s eight years old.”

  “I’ll be nine soon. Can you come to my birthday party?”

  “Oh, I…”

  “It’s a ways away, Noah. Quinn might not be in town then,” Jess said, wiping something off his face. “How was school today?”

  He looked down to the ground, toeing the dirt.

  Uh-oh. That didn’t look promising. I suppressed a smile. The kid was going down.

  “I kinda got in trouble.”

  “What?” Jess jerked back. “Why?”

  “I ate the science.”

  “Noah! Not again. We talked about this.”

  “I know, but we were learning how marshmallows get fluffy. I just ate a couple, and then Reese narced on me.”

  Narced. I laughed. Okay, he was growing on me.

  “Did your teacher send you to the principal’s office?”

  “Not for that.”

  Jess shook her head. “What does that mean? Did you get sent to the principal’s office for something else?”

  I already knew the answer. Oh yes, he’d been there. But I kept mum as I was enjoying the show.

  “Noah?”

  “I called Reese a snitch.” He sighed. “And then he got mad and told the blacktop lady.”

  “Ugh, Noah.” She shook her head. “Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut?”

  “Because Reese was being a snitch! And then he proved he was a snitch by snitching again.”

  I chuckled. “He isn’t wrong, Jess. A snitch is a snitch.”

  She backhanded me. “We don’t encourage bad behavior, Quinn.”

  Too late. Noah was already looking up at me like I was his savior. He lifted his arm up. “You wanna sign my cast?”

  It all made sense now. The emergency. Noah was why she’d rushed off that night. Noah was why she hadn’t texted me back. Noah was the piece of her puzzle.

  “He was the emergency,” I said to Jess.

  She nodded.

  I returned my attention on Noah. “Sure, I’ll sign, but first you gotta find me some real estate.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” he said.

  “Real estate? Like a place to sign.”

  “Ohhh,” he said, and I could see his brain turning, committing the phrase to memory for future use on the blacktop. “Real estate.”

  I grinned. He was funny. A free spirit. So much like his mother, it was eerie.

  Noah went to work examining his cast, searching for an empty spot, but there wasn’t an inch of spare space. He was a popular kid. Good for him.

  Finally, he came to a decision. “You can sign on top of Joey’s name. He’s my least favorite friend.”

  Ouch. Poor Joey.

  “You got a pen?” I asked.

  “No. I thought you guys carried them around.”

  “A pen? Why would I do that?”

  “’Cuz you’re famous.”

  “Barely. I’m like this much famous,” I said, using Jess’s finger measurement scale. “And besides, famous people don’t carry pens.”

  “How would you know, if you’re barely famous?”

  Both Jess and I laughed. Damn, this kid was a firecracker. But then, why wouldn’t he be? Jess’s Bond DNA had obviously been passed down to him.

  “Because my brother is Jake McKallister, and I guarantee you, he doesn’t carry a pen.”

  Noah’s eyes widened to unsafe altitudes. “Jake’s your brother?”

  “Yep.”

  “Noah, you already knew that,” Jess said.

  “I know, but it’s cooler when he says it. Mom, can Quinn have dinner with us?”

  Jess looked at me, questioning. “I… I don’t know if he can, Noah. Quinn’s a busy guy.”

  She was giving me a chance to tap out. She’d presented the evidence for review, and now it was up to me to accept it or not. I’d never dated a woman with a kid and had no idea what that would be like, but meeting Noah hadn’t dampened my feelings for Jess. It may have slightly derailed them, but the more I talked to her little boy, the more the train seemed to be righting itself on the tracks.

  Looking from Jess to Noah and back, I noted her uneasy stare and his expectant shine. I made a preliminary decision—the only decision that would accommodate the lust I had for this woman.

  “Are you too busy?” Noah asked, disappointed.

  “Not too busy for you and your mom.”

  Dinner turned out to be an ambitious endeavor. I knew from the minute I walked into the restaurant that something had changed. Things had been crazy before but adding Jess to the mix had tipped it over the edge. The stares. The cameras. The behind-the-hand whispers. My instinct was to look around for Jake because this was his deal, not mine. But the name being called was my own. The requests for pictures. The autograph seekers. The giggly girls. They wanted me. And for the first time in my life, I felt the weight of my own celebrity.

  Jess seemed amazed. Excited. Shocked. And then protective, shielding Noah from the cameras even when he wanted to jump in every picture with me. As for Noah, he was having a great time, becoming my madam and pimping me out to the highest bidder.

  “Did you want a picture?” he asked, so accommodating to the two college-aged girls lurking about. “It’s okay.”

  “Noah.” I puffed out a laugh.

  “No more,” Jess said through a spattering of giggles after the girls left. “Noah. Look at me. Let Quinn eat in peace.”

  But he didn’t, inviting ever more strangers to our table for photo ops. Jess was finally forced to ask for a couple of to-go containers after the trip I took with Noah to the bathroom ended up being a meet and greet.

  “I am so sorry.” She laughed through her apology as we made our way out to the car. “I wish I could say this was out of character for him.”

  “Don’t be,” I said
, sliding an arm around her waist. “As far as plus ones go, Noah’s the man. It was the most fun I’ve had since I went on a date with this girl at a mini-golf course. It rained, and I carried her to the car.”

  She pinched me to prevent me from going further. “Sounds fun.”

  “Oh, it was.”

  Noah climbed into the back seat. “Can Quinn sit back here with me?”

  “No, bud,” Jess replied. “His legs are too long.”

  I loved the way Jess parented Noah. It was both matter-of-fact and fact-based. This wasn’t a coddled kid. Jess didn’t lie to him to protect his innocence, answering his precocious questions with not always age-appropriate results. Something about it was authentic and fun. Noah was free to be who he was… to an extent… but Jess also kept him from tipping into brat territory with firm rules—that he listened to. Or not.

  “Can you tuck me into bed later, then?”

  Whoa, he’d jumped way ahead. I laughed, wanting to respond with ‘If I get that far,’ but instinctively knew Jess wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo.

  “We’ll see. Now strap in,” Jess said, placating both Noah and me in one fell swoop. This woman was good.

  Noah did as he was told, and after I slid into the passenger side, he placed his hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to be my mom’s boyfriend?”

  I looked back at him and then over to his mom. “How would you feel about that if I did?”

  He was silent a minute, thinking. “It’s okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh-huh. You can teach me how to be a rock star.”

  “I can do that.” I laughed, impressed with how well this kid coped with change.

  “Hey,” I said, looking back at him. “You’re okay, Noah.”

  We didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before the call came in from Tucker. Actually, many calls had come in from Tucker, but I’d had my phone off since the homeless shelter and had forgotten to return it to the normal settings.

  “Hello?”

  “Chili’s, Quinn? You’re at Chili’s?”

  How the hell did he know that? I looked out the window for any signs of a drone hovering about or even a swarm of Tracker Jackers. Upon finding none, I was left assuming the worst.