Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“You’re going to be late for the briefing,” Sawyer told him.
“Not sure I care.” Jackson muttered a curse and shut the door in Sawyer’s face. Then he closed his eyes and leaned against the door.
Certain that I had everything put back where it was supposed to be, I grabbed my handbag from the bed and slung it over my shoulder.
“Morgan, I’m—” Jackson started, apology filling his gaze.
“You owe me an entire weekend,” I said before he could finish. I wasn’t sorry about any of it, and I’d be damned if I let him be.
His eyes flared in surprise. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you at home.” I kissed him gently. “Now show me how to get out of here.”
He grinned, then opened the door and took me down the hallway and out to the parking lot where he kissed me again. Guess he really didn’t care about being late.
When I got home, Sam sat at the dining room table, making a grocery list that included enough food to feed an army—an army I’d invited for the weekend. An army we had to feed with the grill because I didn’t exactly have a kitchen.
Ember. Josh. Paisley. Jagger.
They were all headed here in three days.
Taking a helicopter ride suddenly felt like it was the easiest part of my week.
Chapter Seventeen
Jackson
By the time I got to Morgan’s on Friday, there were two cars I didn’t recognize in the driveway—a bright yellow Defender and a blue Jeep Wrangler.
Guess the friends were here.
There were six vehicles I knew well parked along the right side of my drive, and from the sound of music coming over the dune, the guys had everything set up on the beach.
Sam’s look of relief when she opened the front door told me all I needed to know.
“That bad, huh?” I asked as she shut the door behind me.
“Not sure if bad is the word I’d use, but awkward is right up there. They’re in the kitchen.”
We rounded the corner and found the group standing in the unfinished area. The floors had been installed last week, and now tile that looked like hardwood covered the entire floor. The cabinets were in, and Morgan’s new refrigerator had been installed, too, but there weren’t any countertops yet.
There was a redhead with a small baby bump and her arm around the waist of a guy who looked to be about my height, with brown hair and eyes, and another guy with blond hair who was checking out the install job on the farmhouse sink. Next to him, a blond girl stood with an equally blond toddler on her hip, taking in the space with a smile.
They were all the same people from the flight school ball photo on Will’s Facebook page.
Morgan stood on the other side of what used to be the bar but was now an island, so tense she looked like she might snap. Even her smile was brittle. I wasn’t sure what her friends knew about us or if she even wanted them to know there was an us, but my apprehension fled the minute her eyes met mine.
Her shoulders dipped slightly, and the relief that flooded her gaze was palpable.
I crossed the floor, and when she opened her arms, I took her into mine, tucking her against my chest. Whatever we were, she wasn’t hiding it from her friends.
“Jackson,” she murmured, holding me tight.
“Hey, Kitty.” My voice was low as I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too. I would have been earlier, but I needed to drop Fin off at Vivian’s.” I hated this new every other weekend arrangement, but if Claire was going to actually live here, then I had to get used to it.
“Man, I forgot it was her weekend.” She sighed in disappointment.
“I wish I had. But she’ll be home Monday afternoon.”
Morgan pulled back and tilted her face up. “Well, I guess that means I have you to myself for a couple of days, huh?”
I grinned. “Well, you have to share me with Fin’s pets since I’m on feeding duty, but other than that, yes.”
“I find that acceptable.”
The silence in the room caught my attention, and sure enough, there were four—make that five—people staring at me with blatant curiosity. The blond guy had a little skepticism in his gaze, too.
“Um. Everyone, this is Jackson. Jackson, this is everyone.” Morgan introduced me, turning toward them but leaving her arm draped around my waist. “He’s going to insist that you call him Jax.”
“You’re the only person on the planet who calls me Jackson,” I told her with a laugh. “And yeah, please call me Jax.”
The dark-haired guy was Josh, and his red-haired wife was Ember.
The blond guy was Jagger, and his wife was Paisley—Morgan’s best friend.
“And this is Peyton.” Paisley looked lovingly at her son. “Can you wave, Pey?”