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)
I got up to walk her to the door, then stared through the storm glass at Morgan’s house. She was in there, right now, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Or could I? “I can take it,” I told Sam. “Whatever she dishes out, I can take. Now, during the deployment, and after. I’m all in.”
She studied me, then nodded. “Okay.”
“But how am I supposed to love her without triggering her right now? Because I don’t want her on the ground for the next three months.” I never wanted to hear the voice on that tape again.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing. Show up, but don’t force her hand. Morgan’s the long game.”
“No, Morgan’s the endgame.”
Sam chuckled, dug through her bag, and pulled out a clear package with…
“Are those knee pads?” What the hell?
She pushed them into my chest. “I was told by the guys that if you were willing to fight, you’d need these. It’s basically your invitation to the boys’ club. We’ll back you up as much as we can.” She winced as I took the pads. “And sorry about the door last week. I owe Morgan, and she called it in. Honestly, I’m only here because I remember those months without Grayson, and it would have been a lot easier if we’d just communicated.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I thought he was in love with his ex-comatose ex-girlfriend. Long story.”
“Apparently.”
“Be safe, Jax. She might have thrown you out, but all of that girl’s happiness is wrapped up in you making it home. No matter how safe you think you’re being—be safer. You understand?”
“I understand.”
She hugged me and walked out the front door. “Oh, and Morgan has an appointment tomorrow to have some sea glass set in a bracelet.”
I blinked. “Okay?”
“It’s at Christina’s at eleven thirty a.m., which to my understanding is five hours before you’re due to show at the hangar for deployment.”
I grinned. “Thank you, Sam.”
“Don’t fuck this up, Jax.”
I wasn’t going to.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Morgan
These months are going to fly by. I promise. And then it’s you and me.
“It would look good in platinum,” Christina mused, laying out the small pieces of sea glass on her lightboard as we stood in the workroom at the back of her shop.
“Or gold?” I suggested, fingering the pendant around my neck. Jax and I might be done, but it felt wrong to take it off.
“It would definitely match your necklace,” she said with a nod. “You know, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry Jax has to go.”
I stilled.
“Peter is so angry that they won’t let him wait for an upslip there. He knows…what this is costing you two, and we’re both very sorry.” She squeezed my hand.
Trying—and failing—to neatly box the pain of losing Jax, I brought my eyes to hers. “It’s not your fault.”
“You two would still be together if Peter hadn’t slipped on that deck.” She bit her lower lip.
“Christina, don’t. Whether it was this…trip or the next, it was bound to happen. Getting out now just makes it hurt less than later.” My smile was shaky and fake as hell, but she didn’t call me on it.
“Well, I still feel like shit about it. You two have something very real, and I love you both. So I’m hoping you’ll forgive me.” She patted my hand and headed for the door that led to the showroom of her shop. “You know, I have just the clasp that will hold this together for you. Give me a second and I’ll grab it from the display.”
“Clasp? But we didn’t even decide what metal—”
She closed the door, and I heard the audible click of a lock. What in the actual hell?
The back door that led to the parking lot opened, and Jackson walked in.
My heart jumped, like someone had used the paddles to get a rhythm back. I’d missed this man so much that I wasn’t sure I was still a complete person.
He closed the door behind him but didn’t throw the lock. Instead, he faced me and leaned back against it, which pretty much felt like the same thing. His face was clean-shaven, his baseball hat was on backward, and his MIT T-shirt stretched across muscles I knew all too well. Every single part of him looked good enough to eat, but his eyes…those brought me to my knees. They were red-rimmed and swollen. He looked haunted.
“I thought you left today,” I said, breaking the silence but not the tension.
“Five hours,” he answered, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“Finley?”
“Claire and Brie took her up to the water park. Figured keeping her busy would be best. We…” He swallowed. “We said our see-you-laters this morning to make it easier on her.”
“I’m so sorry.” That explained the swollen eyes. My heart ached for him.
“Thanks. I put your number in her cell phone. She asked for it. The phone’s only for deployment, so we can FaceTime, and I doubt she’ll bother you—”