Jackson puffs up his chest. “You mean, GrandMarshall.”
“I said what I said,” I continue smirking and Britt laughs. “You know, the clown in the suit who gets laughed at under the lights.”
Jackson narrows his eyes. His jaw clenches and I think I may have struck a nerve.
“You know, ‘no-chest now I look like I paid for my chest’,” I gasp, insulted and cross my arms over my boobs, “For someone who doesn’t like me, you sure know a lot about me. You follow my twitter? How about the gram?”
“No.”
That’s a lie. Of course, I follow him.
“My mother told me. She’s running the committee and asked for my help.”
He smiles, like the Cheshire cat. “She did, huh? Did she also tell you that the committee head and the Grand Marshall work very closely together to plan the festival?”
“What? Since when? We don’t need help.”
“Yup, it’s a thing.” He’s so cocky, snagging more chips. “A few years ago, when Mayor Graham was the Grand Marshall, he didn’t like the float he was put on, so he enacted an executive order that the GM and the committee head have to plan and agree on all aspects of the parade.”
“An EO? In little old Christmas? I doubt that,” I scoff.
“Whatever,” he shrugs. “Look it up. It’s in the rule book.”
“There’s a Christmas rule book now? What the hell happened to this town?”
Bobby chimes in. “You let a few derelicts move in and suddenly we need rules,” he stares directly at his brother-in-law.
Jackson laughs, “It’s not because of me, although I’m sure I helped move it along.” He turns to me. “You should look down that cute little nose of yours at that wild twin in your family, not me.”
Did he call my nose cute? I touch it absentmindedly and he smirks like he knows what I’m thinking.
“So, when is a good time for you?”
Now.
My thighs clench.
Fuck, he’s hot.
Stop it!
“What?”
“To get together and plan this festival?” he winks. He fucking winks!
Britt claps her hands and jumps around. “This is going to be so much fun! All of us are back together again!”
Jackson is still staring at me with that grin and my stomach rolls. Maybe coming home wasn’t a good idea for my heart after all.
Chapter 6
Jackson
“How many titles am I supposed to have before they take me seriously?” I yell and slam my water bottle on the counter. My agent called just as I was trying to get out of the house and get to practice.
“It’s not your talent in question, it’s your personal life.”
“That shouldn’t matter!”
