23. Zane

Chapter twenty-three

Zane

M arcus is making coffee as I help Lenny unload the last case of wine from the local off-licence. Edward decided to permanently put them out of business, so the stock was redistributed.

"Have you started your own wine business?" Jasmine questions, peering at my unruly collection of wine crates.

"Good lord, Dad!" Lenny nearly falls over his feet in his haste to step back.

"This is Jasmine, the woman I was telling you about." I give my son a bemused look before smiling at Jasmine as if this is normal. "Jasmine, my youngest son, Lenny."

"I know you said you had someone staying over, but Dad, she's fucking fit." Lenny looks Jasmine up and down, and while he approves of her appearance, I'm not sure he approves of her being with me.

I glance at Jasmine as she heads to Alex to thank him for the dress. I pause in the doorway, watching her twirl for the child, and then he twirls with her like the action is a game. He never fails to make me smile.

As Lenny enters the room, I catch his arm, halting his advance on the table.

"Hey, Lenny," I murmur, tugging at his sleeve to pull him away from the gathering. He follows with a quizzical eyebrow arch, but he follows my lead.

"Spit it out," Lenny encourages, leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, a smug look on his face.

"Jasmine..." I start, glancing over my shoulder at her antics with Alex. "You think she's too young, don't you?"

He chuckles.

"I'm impressed, more like," he admits, the corner of his mouth lifting in a wry smile. "You've always had good taste, but pulling a bird like that? I didn't know you still had it in you."

His tone is warm, not mockery but genuine amusement and maybe respect. I let out a breath of relief, that leaves my knees a tad weaker than I care to admit.

"This old dog still has some tricks, then," I reply, smirking slightly as I boast.

"It seems so," Lenny agrees, pushing away from the wall. "Now let's get back before Marcus thinks we've abandoned him to prepare dinner."

"He isn't that bad at cooking."

"No, but his standard is chicken nuggets and chips."

We return to the main room, the comforting smell of home-cooked food wrapping around us. I have no objection to dining with Knox or Edward, and their cooks do make amazing meals, but I like preparing my own meals. The only problem with a Sunday roast is the joint smells too good for the length of time it takes to cook. "Come on, let's open a bottle of wine," I say, determined to fill my stomach with something.

It is more fun on the nights when Alex is staying over. He isn't as fussy at eating as his dad makes him out to be. I do believe one of them is more fussy than the other, but not the one who gets the blame.

"What's your favourite song?" Alex questions Jasmine, keen to discover all her secrets.

"Anything with a good beat that I can dance to," she answers, and Alex nods vigorously as if her words are gospel. "I don't think I can sing well, but no one cares when I'm alone in the shower, right?"

"Dad always stands just outside in case I need anything. Or ya know, fall, bash my head and drown."

"Oh. Lovely." Jasmine forces a smile to cover her shock.

"Do you have a mummy?" Alex moves on, oblivious to her reaction, but I fear he has asked the one question that could turn the tide of the evening. Even Marcus and Lenny pause their discussion.

"That is a very personal question," Marcus reprimands his son.

"No, it isn't. All the kids in my class have mummies," Alex retorts, "everyone but me."

"It is very sad that you don't have a mummy," Jasmine says, placing her hand over Alex's.

"But, yes, I have a mummy."

"I don't have a mummy, and Daddy doesn't either. Grampy doesn't have a mummy either. The boys at school say we're cursed."

Jasmine looks at me, her eyes pleading for help to get out of this conversation. In my mind, I see her connecting the situation with her own chances of survival.

"Alex, I've told you things before. Those boys are jealous of everything you have and pick on the one thing you don't have." Marcus attempts to smooth the situation over.

"I'd rather have a mum," Alex whispers.

"What if I said I'd be your grand-mummy?" Jasmine questions.

My eyes widen at her offer. It's too early in our… acquaintance to make that kind of promise to such a vulnerable child.

"Do you promise?" Alex frowns.

"I can't promise your Grampy and I will stay together forever. We'd like to, it's a bit early to say for sure, but I promise to always be your grand-mummy."

I can let the lungful of air leave my chest as she says those words.

"It would be easier if Marcus just found someone he could ban—love," Lenny mutters, topping up his wine glass.

Alex has inadvertently killed the conversation, but I can't begrudge him a few stray emotions at the idea of me finding someone. It was something no one believed would happen, something I'm still not sure can happen, despite the woman of my dreams sitting right here. It's bound to confuse the boy. If my impossible dream can come true, then why not his.

"Shall we move into the lounge?" I question when everyone has a glass of wine, an alcohol free white for Alex that no one else will drink.

"Knox is quiet," Lenny says, his voice steady and sure. "Too quiet if you ask me, but it seems settled—for now." His gaze doesn't waver from mine, green eyes sharp in the dim light. I try to gesture for a conversation change silently; this is not for Jasmine's ears.

"Did anyone... inform Derik Marley's wife yet?" he asks, almost casually. "Of all the things that happened today?"

A groan escapes me before I can stop it. The task falls on me, the bearer of bad tidings, to find out the answer to that question and rectify it if not.

"Damn it," I say, my voice barely above a whisper for Alex's sake. Now is not the time to. For now I want to enjoy the company of my family, and imagine my future with all four of them. I'll wait until everyone has eaten and then bring a potentially devastating oversight to Edward's attention.