Jett makes a face. “Daddy says broccoli is dis-gus-ting.” He enunciates the word exactly like I’d muttered it earlier when I’d refused to eat any myself. Not the best role model when it comes to the greenage, but we all have our faults, don’t we?
“Jesse Aaron Enders...” My mother glares at me, butter knife still in hand as she comes to the table with that second, albeit much smaller, slice of cake. “Are you teaching my grandson bad habits?”
I smirk as Jett digs in. “Better behave, Dad!”
“I’ll do better next time, little man.” But probably not where broccoli is concerned.
Achy from the long drive and an even longer week, I stand, stretch, and take my empty plate to the sink, while Ma returns to washing. To get on her good side again, I grab the drying towel.
“Everything go okay with the pickup tonight?” she asks quietly, so little ears don’t overhear and start missing home. “You were later than usual.”
“Sorry about that. We had to stop by the dealership for some parts for one of the loaders. They weren’t ready, so we had to wait.”
“Hmm, better than making a special trip, I suppose.”
“Yep, especially since we’re still short staffed.” I lost two of my best operators to an oil rig job down south a couple of months ago and I’ve been running my ass off ever since. I don’t mind spending more time behind the gears, because I love the dirty work, but being out in the field means the pile of paperwork in my office grows taller every day. And that’s starting to weigh heavy on my shoulders.
“Maybe it’s time to widen your search for help,” Ma suggests, and I nod.
I’ve put out a few feelers to replace the brothers, but it’s challenging to find workers I can trust with millions of dollars worth of equipment. The livelihood of my company and the fifteen people on my payroll isn’t something I take lightly.
“Yeah, I think I’ll ask Amelia to pull some ads together. I should run something online, too.”
“You know, you could always bring someone into the office.” Ma’s eyes—the ones I inherited—sparkle up at me a little too brightly.
“If you’re insinuating I hire you, think again. You’re retired. Dad would kill me.”
“Damn right, I would,” my old man grumbles from the table, face still hidden behind the paper.
Knowing he can’t see her, Ma sticks out her tongue before she turns back to me. “I’m sure you could find a young lady to answer the phones and do some filing. Doesn’t have to be full time. Just enough to get you caught up and keep you there, especially with Greta still recuperating from her surgery. Then you won’t have to feel so bad about all the time you spend at the jobsites.”
“I could find a young man, too,” I counter, and she bats her lashes.
“You know what I mean.”
“Uh huh.” She’d insist on conducting the interviews herself, so she could vet the candidates for future daughter-in-law material, too. It’s no secret she’s been chomping at the bit for us kids to give her more grandchildren.
“I’m just saying that I know you like being on the equipment more than you like being in the office. Maybe that’s where you should focus your hiring efforts first.”
Once again, she isn’t wrong. Just having someone to answer the phone while my bookkeeper, Greta, is post-op and working from home would be a godsend. Having someone to organize my paperwork, too? Shit, I’m half hard thinking about it.
Honestly, I don’t like to complain about things being so busy and chaotic, because running the company my grandad started almost sixty years ago has been my dream since I was a kid. My older brother, Aiden, always wanted to be a cop… and is now. My younger brother, Justin aka Jinx, does the residential landscaping component of Enders Excavating, but he has no interest in taking on more responsibility. It’s probably for the best, since he’d drive me fucking nuts. And our baby sister Amelia, while business minded enough, is into art, not dirt.
For me, it’s always been EE. I could operate every piece of equipment in the fleet by the time I was thirteen, fix them all by sixteen, and manage the whole shebang thanks to an engineering degree and an MBA before Dad retired five years ago. I might hate the paperwork, but I love the business. The backlog of work? It just means I’m doing a good job and hopefully making Grandad proud up there in the big sandbox in the sky.
“So, how’s Hayden doing?” Mom casually changes the subject as she wipes down the counter. But, like her suggestion for a new worker, there’s nothing casual about this question, either. There never is when it comes to Hayden Foss.
“She’s good, same as always.” Beautiful as fucking ever, too. Her long, blonde hair had been down, instead of up in the messy bun she normally wears. Standing outside with her after Jett was buckled in, the breeze kept lifting strands across her face and shoulders, reminding me of all the times I’d brushed her hair from my own face when she’d be in my arms or—my personal favorite—on top of me, making love.
She wasn’t wearing makeup today, either, and I was hard the second I looked at her. She’s a natural beauty with those gold-flecked brown eyes and dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. And other, more intimate parts of her curvy little body, too.
“Did you decide to go to the you-know-what for you-know-who next weekend?” She tips her head toward Jett, who’s finished his cake and is now making up some weird ass handshake with my dad that’ll probably involve fart noises.
“There was never a decision to be made. My kid only has a birthday once a year, so of course I’m going.” And I’ll hate every second of it, being around fucking Lane and his family, but it is what it is.
Mom presses her lips into a pleased smile and rubs my shoulder. “Good boy. I’m glad.”
“You’re still up for doing something here the weekend after, though, right?”
“Absolutely. Amelia’s already ordered the cake and Jinx said he’d come up with some games.”
I damn near drop the plate I’m drying. “Jinx is helping?”
“Yep. He insisted.”
“Well, that’ll be fucking interesting.”
“Jesse Aaron!” She twists her wet dishrag with lightning speed and cracks it across my ass, old-school style. “You will not speak like that in my kitchen!”
I spin away, laughing.
God, I love her. I love all of them. And as Jett smiles at me from the table, I know I wouldn’t be half the dad I am to him without them.
From Day One, my family has been by my side, never judging me for the shit that went down with Hayden. After all, she gave us Jett. And, for a little while, herself, too.
But she was never ours to keep. I knew it from the start, even if they’d all hoped it would work out differently.
That’s the thing about being a rebound.
At some point, the other team is bound to regain possession of the ball.
Or, in this case, the girl.
Chapter 3
JESSE
It’s after ten o’clock by the time I get Jett home, cleaned up, and into his pajamas. Normally, he’d be settled by eight-thirty and we’d call Hayden to say good night before he hits the hay and I grab a beer and hit the couch for a ball game.