33. Lacey

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

lacey

I feel around under the blankets for my panties Jacob helped me lose. Feeling the lacey material, I slip them on and tuck myself back into Jacob's chest. He runs his fingers through my hair, and I cannot believe that I've missed out on this all these years.

Sex with Jacob is unlike anything I experienced with Ben. With Jacob, I feel cherished and wanted, like I'm all he could ever need. He makes my head spin with pleasure as I give myself over to him, and he gives himself to me, too. I could spend days right here with him, being adored and indulging in his touch.

"I should get up. I'm supposed to be at my first client's ranch in an hour," Jacob says, not making any effort to get out of bed.

"I should get up, too." I groan and plant another kiss on his lips.

"What are your plans for this evening? Do you want to go over to Nana's house with me? I'd love for you to see it."

"Taking your mother's advice?"

"I mean, it wouldn't hurt. You might decide you like having me around so much that you decide to hide in my suitcase when I leave." He pokes at my sides, making me squirm.

"When do you want to head over there?"

"I was thinking I could drop you off at work this morning so we can ride over there together after without having to worry about an extra vehicle."

"That sounds perfect."

Jacob kisses my forehead, then climbs over me to get out of the bed. I admire the view while he searches for his boxers in the covers and struts into the bathroom to shower.

The house is beautiful, even if run-down. The exterior of the two-story farmhouse has chipped white paint. The wraparound porch is decorated with ornate trim and has ample space for some rocking chairs. A barn and an outbuilding stand behind the house, and off to one side stands a small building with a crescent moon painted on the door. The picket fence in the front yard is collapsed on one side and barely standing on the other. Patches of tall weeds indicate where flower beds were once tended to in the overgrown yard.

Jacob takes my hand and, with nervous excitement dancing in his eyes, leads me to the front porch. He pulls back the screen door with a loud screech from the rusty hinges and unlocks the doorknob. With a small twist of the knob, he pushes the door open, and without warning, he scoops me into his arms and carries me through the door. I giggle with surprise and wrap my arms around his neck.

Inside the house, Jacob leads me from room to room, giving me the grand tour of the home, memories and stories included. The large living room is where so many family gatherings once took place and holidays were spent. The kitchen and dining area are where the family gathered for holiday meals, and the office is where Jacob would sit and talk with his grandfather, look through his books about veterinary medicine, and where Jacob first decided he wanted to be a vet. Many of the books were still there, packed away in boxes on the desk. We enter a large room that once served as another family room, and Jacob explains how he planned to turn it into a master suite, leaving four bedrooms upstairs for the children he hoped to have one day. It is evident that the house played a significant role in his childhood.

"What do you think?" Jacob asks after we finish the walk-through.

"It's beautiful, Jacob. I can only imagine what it looked like in its old glory days," I say. "It will be a wonderful home to raise a family in."

"That's the plan. It still requires a lot of work to be done, though. I've also thought of closing my office in town and running my business from here like my grandfather did."

"You'll get it all done eventually. It's a big undertaking for someone to do on their own, especially with a full-time job and life to maintain at the same time. It will make someone a very happy home once it's all done."

"Would it make you happy? Could you picture yourself being the one raising a family here?" Jacob asks.

"With you?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I mean...I wouldn't rightly want to picture you making a family here with anyone else."

I'm quiet for a minute, circling back around the room like I'm having difficulty deciding. I settle back by Jacob again and wrap an arm around his waist.

"I could see it," I say, looking up at him. "I mean, with only four bedrooms for the kids they'll have to double up at least, but sharing a bedroom builds character, right?"

Jacob's eyes bulge.

"How many kids are we talking about?"

"Do we have to put a limit on it?" I hold his gaze as the worry creases in his forehead deepen some more.

"Well, uh..." Jacob steps away, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. He turns back to me. "I mean, it might be worth having a conversation about so we know what we are signing up for."

I burst into a fit of giggles and hug him tightly.

"I'm teasing, babe. Breathe. Four bedrooms is plenty."

Jacob kisses the top of my head and lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

We spend most of our evenings at Jacob's Nana's house, working together on the renovations well into the night. Occasionally, George and other friends come spend the weekend with Jacob at the house, helping him with the many projects. We make some significant alterations to the layout of the first floor, taking down the wall separating the front living room from the kitchen and dining room. Jacob builds a large island to provide separation but still allow an open concept perfect for entertaining.

We frame out a large master bathroom and walk-in closet in the large family room in the back of the house, creating a master suite. The house is slowly coming together. Soon, it will be ready for Jacob to move in. There's already talk from his family about him hosting Christmas dinner.

"I have a surprise for you," I tell Jacob, leading him toward his grandfather's old study in the back of the house. During the last three weeks of renovations, I've had my own project I've been working on.

"Does it involve you getting naked?" Jacob asks, grinning from ear to ear.

Admittedly, I've been insatiable, and Jacob has been more than happy to oblige.

"No, dirty boy. Nobody is coming unclothed," I assure him. "Remember when you first brought me over here to see the house and you told me about your grandfather's study? You told me about the talks you had with him in that study and how that's where you decided to follow in his footsteps and become a vet?

"Yes."

We come to a halt in front of the closed study door.

"Well..." I swing the door open and flip on the light. "I thought maybe you would like to have a home office, too."

I step to the side and let Jacob take in the cleaned and painted office. The large wooden desk his grandfather used sits in the middle of the room, restored to its former beauty. Large matted pictures of Jacob and his grandfather working together in his grandfather's vet business hang on the walls.

"Gypsy"—Jacob slides his fingers across the desk as he walks by, taking in every detail—"this is remarkable."

"Do you like it?" I ask nervously from the hallway.

"Like it? I love it, Lace. You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you. Where did you get these photos from?"

"I saw them in your family albums when your momma was showing me your baby pictures. She helped me get them enlarged and framed."

I rise up on my toes, standing next to him now, and kiss Jacob's cheek.

"This doesn't mean you get out of helping me finish painting the upstairs, though," Jacob teases.

"Gosh, you're so bossy," I say, accompanying my exaggerated whiny tone with a dramatic eye roll.

"You didn't complain about that last night, though, did you?" Jacob says with a smirk.

Heat rushes over my body at the mention of our recreational activities from last night.

No, I most certainly didn't complain . . .

"When will the people come to install the kitchen countertops?" I ask, changing the subject to force the unchaste thoughts away, avoiding distraction.

"The week after Thanksgiving," Jacob says with a smile, and we make our way back upstairs to finish painting. His smiles are a lot more frequent these days. "When they're done, and the flooring is finished upstairs, it will be ready to live in."

"That's not long," I say, sadness creeping in at the thought of Jacob leaving the camper. "Next week is Thanksgiving."

Jacob glances up at me, I'm sure because he can hear the disappointment I tried to keep in. He comes over to me, lifting my face to his with a finger under my chin.

"Thinking about sneaking into my suitcase after all?"

"Maybe." I fold my arms across my chest.

"I don't want to lose any time together, either, Gypsy. But I want the decision of us living together to be determined by the progression of our relationship, not by convenience."

"You're right."

We turn back to painting. Silence fills the room as we work. We're close to finishing, as we're now both working on the same wall. I break the silence with a question.

"What are the holidays like with your family?"

"Crazy. Everyone comes to town, and most everyone stays at my parents' house. Mom outdoes herself every year with the food and activities. She loves being a grandmother."

"That sounds nice. I always felt like holidays were for large families, not small ones like I had. Before my parents' accident, we spent the holidays at my grandparents' house, but I was the only child. I didn't have any cousins. I didn't even have any aunts or uncles. It was just the five of us, and I don't remember much from back then. After my parents passed, it was just me and my grandparents."

I go quiet again, and Jacob comes over next to me and wraps me in a hug. It's not the first time I've found myself wishing I came from a large family like Jacob's. After a few moments, Jacob pulls back and smiles down at me.

"This is the year that changes for you," Jacob says. "From now on, you can spend the holidays with my family."

Jacob reaches over and swipes a finger down my nose. With widened eyes, I touch my nose where his finger has just been.

"You didn't!" I look down at my fingers. Sure enough, gray paint covers them. "Not your brightest idea, mister."

I lunge at him, unwashed paintbrush in hand.

Minutes later, following a performance of shrieks and screams, we are both covered in paint and calling a truce. We work together to clean up the floor and put away our supplies. I give Jacob a look-over, then examine myself.

"We can't get in your truck like this. We'll ruin it," I say.

"I've got an idea," Jacob says with a mischievous grin.

With the water still turned off to the house due to a recently discovered leak, Jacob leads the way to the water spigot in the backyard. Tossing our ruined clothes aside, we stand in our underwear and let the cold water from the hose wash down our now goose-bump-ridden skin.

"You're frozen," Jacob observes, turning off the hose. "Your lips are turning blue. Let me warm you up," he says with a wicked grin.

"I don't know. You don't appear to be up to the task," I tease.

"If I'm not, I'll keep at till I am," Jacob says, pulling my shivering, wet body against his.

"Ahem." A throat-clearing sound comes from a man who stands grinning at the corner of the house. He looks down at his shoes.

I shriek, eyes widening in horror, and hide behind Jacob. Jacob appears unphased by his own role in the exhibition and walks right up to the man to greet him.

"Jesse! When did you make it into town? I thought you weren't coming till Monday," Jacob says.

"We decided at the last minute to hop in the car and come a few days early. Didn't see a reason to wait," Jesse responds. "Plus, I couldn't believe all of the drama I've been hearing about my baby brother, so I figured I better come see for myself." Jesse motions to me still hiding behind Jacob. "I have to say, I think I've been getting the watered-down version of the happenings around here." Jacob throws his head back and laughs.

"It's all in the name of keeping things interesting," he explains. Jacob grabs the lone flannel he found in his truck before our yard bath and wraps it around me. "Where's the rest of your crew?"

"They're sitting in the driveway."

"Tell you what, if you'd be so kind as to turn around for my girl, I'm going to help her to my truck, and you can follow us to her place. I think she'd prefer to be dressed when I formally introduce the two of you."

"Probably a good idea," Jesse agrees with a chuckle.

"You get in the shower first," I tell Jacob once we are safely inside the camper. "I'm not going out there, anyway."

"What? Why not?" Jacob asks. "You'll love Jesse and Steph and the kids."

"I'd love them more if they didn't know what I look like in my underwear!" I retort.

Jacob rolls his eyes.

"I'll take a quick shower, and you can take your time," Jacob says.

He reaches into the shower and turns the water on to warm up while he takes his boots and boxers off. Mere minutes later he emerges, clean and in fresh clothes. He gives me a chaste kiss as he walks by.

"Please come out and meet them when you are done."

With that, he walks out of the camper and merrily greets his sister-in-law and nieces and nephews. Joyful sounds of reunited family seep into the camper while I strip off my underwear and take my turn in the shower.

Once out of the shower, I comb out my long, wet hair and tie it up in a bun on the top of my head. I pull on a new pair of jeans and one of Jacob's old college sweatshirts. Examining myself one more time, I decide it will have to do. I take in a deep breath to steady my nerves and step out on the deck.

Four kids are running around by the firepit, playing happily together. A fifth child, about a year old, sits on his mother's lap. Jacob stands and pulls a chair over for me.

"Jesse, Steph, this is Gypsy." I smack Jacob's arm. "I mean, Lacey. Lacey, my oldest brother Jesse, and his better half, Steph."

"Nice to meet you," Jesse says. "Sorry about intruding on you earlier. Had I realized the mischief my little brother would be causing, I would have called first. Lesson learned."

"No, I'm the one who should apologize. I'm not sure how he does it, but he always seems to be at the root of my lack of judgment," I say. I give Jesse a friendly hug, then hug Steph. "Be thankful you missed the show," I tell her.

"Sweetie, if there's one thing you'll learn about these Jones boys, it's that every last one of them is full of the most awful ideas. And they all have an astonishing ability to make them sound so good," Steph advises me good-naturedly.

"Now, what's all this ‘gypsy' business about?" Jesse asks.

My cheeks instantly light on fire, and I know I must be beet red. I try to gather myself enough to make a reply, but Jacob beats me to it.

"This is Lacey's gypsy wagon," Jacob says, motioning to the camper.

"Gypsy wagon, huh? So that must make Lacey a real live gypsy then?"

"That's right. And a self-made one at that. I caught me a gypsy."

"Don't mind them, Lacey," Steph speaks up. "They're just jealous they didn't ever come up with the idea of living in a camper. And Jacob, I don't see a ring on that finger of hers. I'm not so sure you've caught her yet."

"You have a point, Steph," Jacob agrees, glancing down at my hands. "But I have every intention of fixing that."

My eyes, ready to pop out of my head, shoot up from my hand to Jacob's face. We've talked about the possibility of our future together, but this is the first time Jacob has made such a blatant remark about it to someone else. He winks at me and reaches over to take my hand in his as he moves the conversation along.

The evening continues with good conversation and lots of laughter. The children make frequent trips onto the porch to talk to Uncle Jacob and convince him to come back and play tag with them again. I watch each interaction he has with them. He's going to be a fantastic dad, following in his own father's footsteps, no doubt. Jesse and Steph are just as lighthearted and friendly as the rest of the Jones family that I've met so far. I feel like I've known them forever. I wonder if the last brother I haven't met yet will break the mold of perfection I've seen run in this family so far.

The week of Thanksgiving is busy at work. The town believes in supporting the local businesses, and many of the residents ordered arrangements to beautify their homes for their Thanksgiving feasts. This means a lot more orders than we typically receive, plus the influx of orders from Mia's store as well.

On Wednesday evening, I carry in the bags of groceries to make Grammy's chocolate pecan pie per Maddie's request that I bring a dessert to Thanksgiving. Truthfully, I'm terrified to make a pie for Thanksgiving. I've met almost the whole Jones family, and I don't know how I'll ever measure up. I'm walking into this picture-perfect family as the hot mess I am. They treat me like I belong, but I have nothing to offer them.

I spend way too long trying to get the crust made and shaped perfectly in the pan. It doesn't look like Grammy's, but it is as close as I can manage to get it. I mix up the filling, double-checking the ingredient list to make sure I don't forget anything like I did the last time I baked. Maybe if I can just manage to bring a decent pie to dinner, I can believe that I belong.

Finally, I slide the pie into the oven and collapse on the bed next to Jacob where he is watching football on the TV he installed a couple of weeks ago. I yawn and snuggle into him while I wait for the pie to finish baking.

I'm not sure how long I stay like that, but I wake up coughing thanks to the smoke filling the small camper. The pie! Jumping off the bed, I rush over to the oven. When I open the oven door more smoke billows out, sending me into another coughing fit. I pull the pie out and set it on the counter. Jacob is up now, propping open the door and windows, trying to get the air circulating. I shrink down onto the floor, and immediately, tears flood my eyes and race down my cheeks.

"What's wrong, Gypsy? Are you hurt?" Jacob asks and drops down to his knees beside me.

"No, my pie!" I exclaim. "It's ruined. I've single-handedly ruined everything," I say, choking back sobs.

"No, you didn't ruin anything," Jacob assures me. "The pie looks great, babe, but if you don't want to bring it, it'll be okay. There will be plenty of dessert at dinner without yours."

I glare at him through the tears. I know he's trying to be helpful, but I also know he is lying about the state of my pie. Jacob stands back up and looks over the pie, trying to figure out how to salvage the situation, no doubt. I look at my watch. It's one thirty in the morning. We're supposed to be at his family's home first thing for a full day of festivities.

"Look here," he says, pulling me back up to my feet. "The top is a little well done, but we'll just scrape it off." He grabs a knife and begins to unsuccessfully scrape the top of the pie. "Okay, so that's not working. Here, I'm going to cut out a small piece to show you how good it is. We can just drizzle it with chocolate to hide the burned spots. If anyone asks why some is missing, I'll just tell them I couldn't stay out of your delicious pie and snuck a piece."

Jacob picks the knife back up and begins cutting into it. He is unable to complete his first cut as the blade of the knife breaks apart from the handle. My sobs deepen. Jacob stops trying to fix the situation and wraps me in his arms instead, trying to console me. Jacob finally convinces me to come back to bed, promising he will help me deal with the catastrophe in the morning.

I wake up the next morning exhausted, mentally drained, and my eyes feel heavy and puffy from my crying last night. Jacob is asleep next to me. I look at the clock. We only have two hours to get to Jacob's parents' house. That's hardly enough time to bake a new pie. Maybe if I'm quick I can get it done without making us too late.

I decide to inspect the pie again in daylight to see if it is as bad as I remember. I stumble out of the bed and make my way over to the counter where I left the pie last night, only it's not burnt. No knife blade is sticking out of it. The pie looks perfect. Jacob is behind me now, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head on my shoulder. I look over my shoulder at him, feeling the tears well up again.

"You baked a whole new pie?" I ask. "How late were you up last night?"

"Not too late," he says, but I know it's a lie. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I might as well do what I could to help out. No sense in lying around if I wasn't going to rest."

I turn in his arms and take in his sleepy, bloodshot eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and press into him, kissing him as I push him backward toward the bed. When his heels are against the platform, I push him down onto the mattress and take a step back. I give him my best smoldering grin, then slowly shimmy my panties off my hips, letting the purple lace fall freely to the ground. Jacob's eyes meet mine.

"Oh..." Jacob says, realizing the reward he is about to collect.

I turn my back to him and slowly lift my oversized T-shirt inch by inch until I pull it over my head. Glancing back over my shoulder at him, I drop the T-shirt to the floor.