“Ican’t believe you’re making me wake up at this hour,” I whine with an angry stomp of my feet.
Jackson just chuckles good-naturedly while loading our suitcases into the back of his G-Wagon. “You’ll be thankful when we arrive in Alpharetta by noon instead of in the evening because of the shitty traffic. Now climb into the passenger seat, punk.”
Despite the order directed at me, Jackson firmly closes the trunk, then gently guides me toward the passenger side with a warm hand at the small of my back. The car is already started, and the heated leather seats turned all the way up. I snuggle into the warmth of the seats, only to laugh when Jackson reappears, holding a cozy faux fur blanket. He tucks it around me until I’m in a blanket burrito.
I raise one eyebrow. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Jackson growls, then presses a hard kiss to my forehead. “You’re insufferable.”
“At this point, I’m starting to think you really like it.”
Jackson slams the door shut with a forced laugh. Honey whines in the back seat as she fights to get comfortable. Everydrop of blood in my body sizzles when Jackson brings a blanket around for Honey, gently murmuring to her as he tucks it around her and promptly fucking buckles her into a safety harness. A seat belt for my dog. Honey blinks up at Jackson, tongue lolling out of her mouth, just before she swipes it over his face. Jackson chuckles sweetly and pats her side.
When Jackson climbs into the driver's seat, I can’t help but lean over to kiss him. Surprise freezes him for only a second until his fingers tangle in my hair to tug me closer. His tongue swipes into my mouth, sending heat rushing through my body. Jackson pulls away from me slightly, his breath ghosting over my face with each panting breath.
“What was that for?” Jackson asks, tone unbelievably low.
I nuzzle against his nose, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Thank you for taking care of Honey.”
I can’t thank him for taking care of me, so that’ll have to be enough. Jackson seemingly understands because his eyes quickly flick to Honey, then right back to me. His eyes are always so warm, so impossibly understanding as if maybe he can see right into the deepest, darkest depths of me. If there’s anyone on the earth who has a straight line to how my brain works and how my heart works, it’s Jackson Harris.
“Let’s get on the road. I have a surprise for you once we arrive in Alpharetta.”
“A surprise!” I mock gasp, snuggling back into the warm seat.
Jackson pulls out of the driveway, steering one-handed so he can rest the other on my thigh under the blanket. His touch calms me like always.
“I think you’ll like it. You want the ballad station again?”
“Let’s do pop hits.”
Jackson flicks his thumb on the wheel, landing on the pop-hit station. The drive rolls by as I sing loudly, mostly hoping to make Jackson laugh. A few times he joins in, his voice a low,sweet timbre. We hop out a few times for bathroom breaks at rest stops. At the final rest stop just an hour from Alpharetta, Jackson ushers Honey over to the grass for her to do her business. Once she’s done, Jackson runs around with her to get some of her energy out.
And for one brief moment, I wonder what it would be like to keep him. Me and him in twenty years, a few kids, and another service dog to fill our home. But then I think about five seizures a year, feeling more and more like a burden with each one, and the beautiful fantasy vanishes into a plume of painful smoke.
Jackson ushers Honey back into the car, then jumps into the driver’s seat with a wide grin. God, he’s so fucking beautiful. Right now, he’s mine; that’s all I can focus on. For the moment, Jackson’s mine to keep, to love, to kiss. That’ll be enough.
Finally, after what feels like forever, we roll into Alpharetta. The city reminds me so much of home. Small-town vibes. Jackson turns into a gated community full of ostentatious houses. He pulls into the driveway of a light-stone-colored behemoth of a house. This is not remotely what I expected from his parents.
“Is this your parents' place?”
Jackson snorts. “That’s my house, punk.”
My jaw drops as Jackson slams his door shut. He lets Honey out the back, and she instantly has the zoomies in the front yard. Stuck in a daze at his words, I let him guide me inside, although my feet feel heavy. Nothing about this house says Jackson. The inside is impersonal, although decorated beautifully. It’s just nothing like the sweet, warm Jackson I’ve come to know.
“Bedroom is this way,” Jackson calls over his shoulder.
I bundle the blanket from the car up tight in my arms and follow him up the stairs in a daze. Honey darts ahead of us, tail wagging as she patiently waits to follow Jackson to the correctroom. His bedroom is at the end of a long marble hallway, and it’s just as impersonal as everything else in this large house.
A large, four-poster canopy bed sits against the wall with windows that overlook the wooded backyard. I wander over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, heart pounding out of my chest.
I’m in Jackson’s bedroom.
I’m going to meet his parents.
He’s definitely going to fuck me soon.
Jesus.
