Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“I brought coffee.” Shay shoves a mug into my hands. “Thought you’d need it.”
I flash her a grateful smile and take a long sip. “Marry me,” I whisper, and she grins.
“So what’s the plan?” Carter asks.
“I say we load up the furniture and the stuff for the storage unit first,” Levi says. “Then we’ll get the stuff for Brayden’s moved.”
I tuck away my discomfort at the whole situation and turn to the group. “I’m not moving much to Brayden’s. Mostly clothes and some of Noah’s favorite toys. Those things are labeled. Everything else will go into storage.”
The brothers nod and disperse, setting to work on the piles of boxes in my living room.
I meet Brayden’s eyes. After last night, does he want to rescind his offer to let me and Noah stay with him? If his siblings knew I might have hurt the family business, would they still want to help me today?
Brayden just gives me a barely perceptible nod, as if he can read the questions on my face.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask softly.
“Absolutely.” That’s quintessential Jackson behavior. Unconditional acceptance. I was raised by a stepfather who put conditions on everything, and I never know what to make of this group and their kindness. But after the mess I made last night, I need to know he hasn’t changed his mind.
“Can we speak privately for a minute?”
He nods, and I lead the way down the hall. I was going to take him to my room, but I turn into Noah’s at the last minute, because bringing him into mine feels too . . . intimate.
I shut the door behind him. “Do you want me to find another place to stay?”
“No. I already told you I’m sure.”
“But after last night . . .” My cheeks heat. I spent years rewriting my identity, only to have one bad day send me spiraling back to my teenage habits. In the sober, hungover light of morning, I’m ashamed. “I made a mistake.”
He wanders to Noah’s desk across the room, toying with the Power Rangers sitting in a box. “So did I. I should never have assumed . . . anything.”
“Noah and I can find somewhere else. There are hotels and even some apartments that would be . . . acceptable.” I swallow hard as he turns. He knows how I feel about my options, and I hate the pity I see in his eyes. “We’d be fine.”
“I’ve already promised Noah the attic bedroom and to be there on Christmas morning to see what Santa brought.” He shrugs. “I’m a man of my word.”
I straighten, trying to hide the way his promise to my son makes me melt. Letting Brayden know he makes me feel all melty inside—letting him know how easily I could want more—is dangerous territory. “Thank you.”
“Go eat some breakfast,” he says. “It’ll help with the hangover.”
“Hey, asshole!” Levi calls from the hall. “Wanna come out here and help us with this couch, or what?”
Amusement flashes over Brayden’s face, and he gives me one final searching glance before leaving to join his brothers.
Molly
With all the Jacksons helping, the move goes much faster than I anticipated, and we’re dropping the last of my bags in one of Brayden’s upstairs bedrooms by lunchtime. I chose the room with the soft blue walls and the dark mahogany queen-size bed.
“I found one more box in the back of your car,” Brayden says behind me. He plops it onto the end of the bed. “Are you okay?”
“She’s broken and she doesn’t even know it.”
If he didn’t want to hire me, surely he didn’t want me to move in. But the promises he made to Noah are as important to me as they are to him, and being able to give Noah a good Christmas is more important than my pride. I’ll endure the humiliation of Brayden’s pity until after the holidays. Then I’ll find a new job and somewhere to live.
“I’m fine.” I focus on organizing the clothes I tossed on the middle of the bed, all too aware that Brayden is still in the room.
“Are you still feeling sick? Or is it something else?”
“I just wish you didn’t have to let us stay.” I force myself to turn, to meet his eyes even when shame makes my cheeks hot. “I have some leads for houses that are supposed to be available for rent at the beginning of the year.”
He frowns. “I told you there’s no rush. Stay as long as you want.”
“Brayden, would you come down here and cut the ham?” Kathleen calls up the stairs.
“Be right down,” he says, not taking his eyes off me. “Just give me a shout if you need anything, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and this box wasn’t labeled. Where do you want it?” He pulls open the flaps of the box he set on the bed when he entered. “Looks like there are some washcloths in here. And . . .” He lifts a stack of washcloths and peers at the contents beneath. His eyes go wide. “Oh.”