Page 45 of Full Court Love
It feels like something I don’t fit into. A perfect picture that I would be ruining.
Although I have to admit, Lucy is starting to convince me otherwise.
CHAPTER 19
LUCY
Ithink my family likes Jordan more than me.
We just drove back to Maverick City after spending Christmas at my house. My mom had the whole place decked out, just like she always does. The constant smell of cookies baking would’ve put Mrs. Claus to shame.
When I told her that Jordan hadn’t ever experienced an over-the-top Christmas celebration, she decided to pull out all the stops–outdoor inflated reindeer, garland on every railing and ledge, and so many lights, our house was definitely visible from space.
Jordan loved every bit of it.
I don’t think he stopped smiling from the moment he crossed the snowman-themed entry rug to walking out the door carrying four Tupperware containers of leftovers and gingerbread cookies. The only time I noticed his face fall was when we were sitting around the Christmas tree drinking hot chocolate and giving gifts.
I asked him if everything was okay, and he told me his mom would’ve loved this. My heart broke a little for her. I knew she was working, but she’d still be alone when she gothome. Even if his dad was there, I know Christmas was full of special memories with Jordan.
I got to meet her on Facetime, and it became crystal clear where Jordan got his warmth and silent resilience. Even a single conversation revealed just how wonderful this woman was and is. She and my mom are going to get along so well.
The idea of them meeting brings all sorts of butterflies and overwhelming feelings into my stomach. Unsurprisingly, Jordan already succeeded in winning over my family.
He entered the living room where all my grandparents were playing cards, and the room instantly fell silent. My grandma then dropped her hand, lowered her glasses, and let out a whistle. My other grandma whispered, intentionally loud, “Hot damn. Good work, Lucy-Lu.”
I don’t know who was redder, me or Jordan. He had a smile plastered to his face while I used my hands to try to hide from this moment. It was equal parts embarrassing and hilarious. These ladies haven’t lost any of their spunk, that’s for sure. They’ve also definitely gotten more inappropriate with age.
The rest of the day went similarly to that. A lot of fawning over Jordan when he offered to do the dishes or talked about how much better I am at shooting than he is. They really loved that one–especially my grandpas. They helped me perfect my shot after my dad died.
I spent most of the day staring at him. He caught me a couple times and either winked, which made me want to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, or gave me a subtle smile, which made me want to climb in his lap and kiss him.
Basically, everything he does compels me to want to make out with him.
It’s certainly an awkward emotion while surrounded by your grandparents, but I don’t think anyone would blame me. As he now strides across the gas station parking lottoward me, my reveries about him are interrupted by very current emotions surrounding him. The pink tinge in his cheeks from the December cold, the winter coat still somehow emphasizing his frame–which quite honestly makes no sense–and the curly hair still wet from a shower, now frozen from being outside. I would look like a drowned rat, but he looks like a runway model.
He climbs into the driver’s seat, hands me a bag of popcorn and candy, intertwines his fingers with mine, kisses my hand, and pulls out of the parking lot. During this sequence of events, I’m staring at him like he’s a piece of meat. I just want to get back to my house so I can nestle into him and stay there forever.
I loved bringing him home. I loved seeing how much my family loved him. But I missed being with just him. I missed our sarcastic fights that end in kissing and laughter. I missed laying on him watching our favorite TV shows while he traces patterns on my back and I run my fingers along his jaw.
We park at the curb and he carries our bags in. We settle under a blanket on the couch. Now it’s time for us to exchange presents. We agreed that we would only do one item, and it had to hold some sort of significance beyond just being something cool.
We each wanted to give something meaningful.
I give mine first.
I hand him a leather-bound binder. He runs his hand over the cover. Then he flips it open. I can’t keep quiet anymore. Overexplaining gifts is a habit I’ve never been able to get over.
“You said you don’t have any family recipes. This is a binder to fill with recipes you can pass down. I got some from my mom and I actually texted your mom to get some of hers, plus I got some from Pete and Angie. There’s obviously a lot of room to add, so whenever you cook something, you canput it here. I know you don’t cook a lot yet, but I feel like maybe?—”
He pulls my face to his and kisses me hard. Then he plants little kisses all over my face. He settles back and continues flipping through it, perusing the recipes.
“Lucy, thank you. Seriously, I love this. I want to go make one of these after I give you your gift, and then we can watch a movie.”
“Wow, I'm a genius. I gave you a gift that led to you making me food. What an incredible move on my part.”
“And you’re super humble.”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yup, that too. Just a true innovator in every way.”