Page 142 of Eight Years Gone
He nodded. “Everything about this is a lot. I don’t know how you couldn’t have mixed emotions. But no matter what we find today, I’m right here with you.”
She smiled, never treasuring his support more. “I know you are.”
“How about we get this over with and put you out of your misery.”
“Please.” She stopped him with her hand on his arm as he reached for the door handle. “Thank you, Jagger.”
He winked. “Anytime, baby.”
They both got out, meeting at the Stingray’s hood.
Jagger took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “Let’s do this.”
She nodded, ready to see what they would see.
Jagger pulled open the door, letting her walk in before him.
She stopped in her tracks, breathing in the scent of fresh pizza as she stared at the teenager taking another order at the counter. “Oh my God. Jagger.”
His grip tightened against her fingers. “Damn.”
She met Jagger’s gaze, recognizing the shock that she felt. “My mom was right. He looks so much like Logan.”
“I’d say we have our confirmation. No DNA test required. What do you want to do?”
She looked at the teenager again—her brother. He was about Logan’s height, but Colton didn’t share the same powerful athletic build their older brother had had. The dark-blond hair was spot-on, but Colton wasn’t as clean-cut as Logan had always been. He had a shaggier cut, long sideburns to go with a day or two’s growth of beard, and an earring in his left ear. But their facial features were nearly identical, except for the color of their eyes. Logan’s had been crystal blue like Grace’s—like their mother’s. Colton’s were brown.
Colton looked their way. “Can I help you guys?”
Grace glanced from Jagger back to Colton. “Yes.” She kept a death grip on Jagger’s hand as they walked to the counter.
Clearing her throat, she made herself smile. “Hi.”
Colton smiled back politely. “Hey. What can I get you today?”
“I don’t— I’m not sure—”
“We’ll take a large pizza,” Jagger said, wrapping his arm around Grace’s shoulders. “Pepperoni, green peppers, and onion on half. We’ll do sausage and jalapeño on the other half.”
Colton wrote their order on a pad of paper, glancing from Grace to Jagger a couple of times. “Anything to drink?”
“Just water,” Jagger said.
“Are you eating here?”
Grace nodded. “Please.”
“That’ll be twenty-one eighty.” Colton held her gaze as Jagger pulled out his credit card, tapping it against the machine.
“If you guys want to take a seat, I’ll bring your pizza out when it’s ready. Bottled waters are over there in the fridge.”
“Thanks,” she and Jagger said at the same time.
“I’ll grab our drinks,” Jagger suggested. “How about grabbing us a couple of seats?”
Grace snagged several napkins, then moved to one of the window tables where they had a view of Main Street and the counter. She sent Jagger a small smile when he set a water in front of her, then sat in the chair across from her. “Thanks.”
He captured her hands, sliding his thumbs along her knuckles. “How are you doing?”