Chapter 27

As thrilled as I'd been to provide my family with the luxurious vacation, I was glad as hell to see that place in the rearview mirror. I flew us home the next day. Everyone was eager to get back to the office and the reassuring predictability of that routine.

Jasmine slipped almost seamlessly back into her role as office manager and assistant. She managed the phones and scheduling, ordered supplies, joked with the bookkeeper, and taught one of the newly promoted full-timers how to sweet talk Ty into fixing the printer. If it weren't for the way she held her shoulders up too high, the fact she wasn't humming and singing under her breath all the time anymore, and the tightness around her mouth and between her brows—you'd think she was just fine.

She didn't even want barbecue when we ordered it in for lunch one day. She insisted she wasn't hungry, that she'd just had a granola bar earlier. Then she said it smelled weird and didn't want to stay in the conference room while we ate it. This was the same woman who put away two pulled pork sandwiches, a mountain of chips and pickles and some slaw the last time we had it for lunch and stole a couple bites off Drew's sandwich when he wasn't looking.

I got it into my head that we should do something special for her, make a big deal out of Valentine's Day that was coming up fast. It would be our first one with Jasmine and I wanted to celebrate in a way that she understood we intend to spend all our future Valentine's Days with her and it could be a kind of romantic anniversary for us. I talked to the guys, and they were all for it. We divided up the jobs so everything would get done properly.

"It's going to be epic!" Jake told me.

"Please never use that word again," I said, wincing.

"Ouch," he said. "You could've let me down easy on my slang. I'm the one with all the code. I can fuck up your encrypted channels and let someone steal your identity, you know," he groused.

"Yeah, but we're twins, so it would probably screw with your credit score or something," I said.

"You know, they said you were the genius, but that still makes no sense," he said, "Anyway, I got the gas station chicken wings ordered, and you should know that it gives me pain to do this. I could make my dry rub seasoning blend, marinate some antibiotic-free chicken…" he shook his head.

"No. It's about what she likes. Not what we want to give her. I know it killed part of you to enter a gas station and preorder three dozen hot and spicy wings, but I'm proud of you, bro."

"Thanks, E. I'm gonna go for a run, clear my head." Jake still looked bemused, gave a small shudder and I had to hold back a laugh.

"Still trying to shake off the grease and cigarette smell of that place?"

"Maybe. I'm a food snob. But that wrapped up what I needed to order for the dinner. Thanks for doing all this. She'll love it."

"I know," I said, a self-satisfied grin on my face.

I couldn't wait.