Wound Up(99)

                Jenny eyed her suspiciously. “I make really awesome lasagna.”

                “I love lasagna! Would you teach me how to make it? Here? I’m sure Justin wouldn’t mind helping us cut up ingredients. He helped out tonight.”

                Jenny was so obviously thrown for a loop, Grace wondered if she’d done more harm than good. The girl was unsure whether to like Grace or hate her for being with Justin. Instead of pushing, Grace let her work through it. Before she could speak, Melody started to answer.

                Grace shook her head. “It’s Jenny’s best meal so she should be the one to teach me this time, okay?”

                Melody sighed. “Whatevs.”

                Jenny finally nodded slowly. “If Justin will help cut stuff up.”

                “He will.” Grace eyed him levelly. “Won’t you?”

                “Sure.” He smiled.

                Darcy hustled in. “Hi, Jenny. I’m glad you stayed for dinner.”

                “Justin’s here, Mom. Of course she stayed.”

                “Melody Ann, mind your manners.”

                The bite in Darcy’s words made the teen dip her chin. “I apologize.”

                “You owe the apology to Jenny, not me.”

                “Sorry, Jen. It just freaks me out that you totally think Justin’s hot.”

                Jenny blushed furiously.

                “As far as apologies go, that may have been the most awkward thing I’ve ever heard. Regardless,” Justin drawled, winking at Jenny, “I have an affinity for any woman who appreciates the fact I’m hot. Thank you.”

                Grace’s heart, which had been already full to overflowing, swelled even more. Justin was so kind, even as uncomfortable as he was. He continued to prove over and over what an amazing man he was, and Grace realized her comments about Prince Charming hadn’t been so far off the mark. He was everything a woman could want, and here he was. Asking to be hers.

                “Moon eyes?” Justin leaned over and whispered, lips twitching against her ear. “Not you, too.”

                She laughed, couldn’t help it. “Yeah. Sorry.”

                “Don’t apologize for making me a lucky man.” Grace looked down at her plate, fighting to regain her equilibrium as Justin reached for the pie server. “Okay. Who’s up first?”

                * * *

                THE NEXT COUPLE of days passed without incident for Justin. Until Friday. Gavin, the kid being courted by Deuce-8, skipped his third counseling appointment. Justin called his parole officer to report the skip only to be told by the harried woman that he’d also skipped school both Thursday and Friday. No one seemed to know where he was, family included.

                Nausea hit Justin hard enough he grabbed the trash can and fought not to retch. He couldn’t lose the kid to the gang. Justin wanted to save the kid from a lifetime of violence and regret, a lifetime that would, in all likelihood, kill him before he was even old enough to vote. He’d been there. He knew. He also knew there was a solid chance the gang had upped their pressure to pull the kid deeper, to separate him from his regular life. They’d make him believe he was important, irreplaceable, wanted. They’d give him cash, drugs, women—whatever it took to get him to commit. Then they’d use him like the pawn he was, another body in the ever-growing turf war.