A surprised giggle bursts out of me as I stand there and stare at this kid. “You’re hard to get a read on, you know.”
Jake shrugs. “Not really. I’m a growing young man who has his head screwed on straight and his eyes on the prize—and it isn’t sleeping my way through my junior year. I also want to see Dad happy, and happiness seems to ooze out of his pores whenever you’re around.”
I bite my lip to somehow stop my heart from bursting all over the floor.
“But I am really fu—freaking hungry, so I was looking up some of the recipes on your website and seeing what we have in the kitchen.”
“Okay. Show me what you’ve found.”
His eyes flash before he pushes his chair back and walks over to me, putting his phone on the countertop in front of us. We scroll through a few of the light-lunch recipes in conjunction with the relevant demonstration videos I’ve done for them. A lot of them are already in Jake’s favorites on the vlogging platform’s website.
“What about my chicken pot pie? It may not be super healthy, but it’ll fill you up.”
His lips tug on one side, the beginnings of a dimple pop out. When I narrow my eyes at him, his grin gets bigger. “Dad tried to make it a few months ago and failed miserably. I swear the smell of burnt milk lingered for days after that.”
“What are you two up to?” Rhodes says, coming up close behind me. He wraps an arm around my waist and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’m trying to persuade Dee to make the dish-that-shall-not-be-named.”
Rhodes chuckles and points his finger at his son. “Hey, kid. Don’t embarrass me in front of my favorite chef. I kind of like her. Besides, she can probably make that meal with her eyes closed.”
I look up at him and scrunch my nose, waving my hand in front of us in a ‘maybe/maybe not’ gesture, making them both laugh. “Cutting the vegetables can get a bit dicey with your eyes closed, even with my knife skills.”
“Okay, little master. How about you wow us with your skills, and Jake and I can be your sous-chefs?”
“Or . . . you could pour a coffee, sit over there and read the paper, while Dee and I cook for you.” I don’t miss the way his eyes are begging his dad to do that exact thing.
I turn in Rhodes arms and tip my face to his. “Yeah, Dad. Why don’t you go take a load off and let us cook for you? Besides, an old man like yourself must need to recuperate after such an energetic morning . . .”
Rhodes’s lips twitch and his eyes fill with amusement just as Jake starts making gagging sounds from behind us. I gasp when it clicks what I’ve said. “Oh my god, no. No. I didn’t mean,” I splutter before whirling around and pointing at the laughing teen. “You have a dirty mind, young man.”
Jake holds his hands in the air. “Hey. I said I’m focusing on my future, not that I’m blind, deaf, and dumb. I am my father’s son, after all.”
Rhodes buries his face in my neck and laughs before straightening and giving me a discreet tap on the ass. “Feed me, beautiful. Make my son’s day by letting him cook with his idol.”
And damn if that doesn’t melt my heart too.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, but every step of the way, Jake is an avid participant. He asks questions, he checks if he’s chopping the vegetables the right size, and when I correct his cutting technique to make it smoother and easier, he shows he has natural talent.
“So what do you wanna do after you finish school?” I ask while I’m greasing the pie dish.
“I kind of sway between medical school or something like a cop or a firefighter.” He nods toward the living room where Rhodes is sitting on the couch watching a football game on TV. “I see Dad go to work, and even knowing he could get hurt or worse, but he’s trained to make the best decisions and follow protocol to ensure he gets to come home at the end of every shift. It’s honorable, and I like the idea of serving the community and helping people.”
I blink rapidly, wishing I had an onion to blame for my wet eyes. “And med school? Do you want to be a doctor for the same reason?”
He looks up from the chicken he’s browning on the stovetop and studies me for a second before he nods. “Yes and no. You know about Mom, right?”
“Yeah, Jake,” I say softly.
“Right. So, I’ve always thought that if I could ever do something to help families and kids who were in the same situation, then I would do it.”
“That’s very thoughtful.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, even though we both know it is. “So research then?”
“Yeah. I like the idea of helping in any way I can so that other people don’t have to go through what Mom went through.”
I pause for a moment before I move beside him and wrap an arm around his shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. “You’re a good kid, Jake Anderson. Your mom would be very proud of the man you’ve become.”
“I hope so. I’ve got a good Dad, that helps too.”
Glancing over at his father, I sigh and—not for the first time—thank the universe for making our paths cross, and for giving him and Jake each other too.
Jake turns my way and snickers, having caught me gawking at Rhodes. “She’d have liked you, you know?”
My body jerks at this unexpected revelation. “I hope so.”
“I may have only been ten, but Dad has made sure I remember her. She was all about being positive and shining her bright light on those
