Page 36 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

Beau shook his head, tsk-tsk-ing. “Jenna. Didn’t think you’d grow up to be a troublemaker. Jackson, let’s get a look at that leg. Oh, my. That’s some blood.”

“How about we get out of this hallway,” Jimmy suggested.

“Yes—let’s go upstairs and sit down. Jimmy, you give my boy Jackson some support there.”

“I’m fine,” Jackson said.

“Sure you are, tough guy. I’m more worried about you getting blood on your fancy carpet. I’ve got Jenna. Tom, can you put some caution tape up over these elevator doorways. Make it official until you can get the repairman over here.”

Beau helped Jenna stand on unsteady legs and practically carried her up the stairs, his arm around her waist. At the top of the stairs, Jenna realized that Megan stood nearby, filming the whole thing on her phone. Oh no. Was this going to go in one of her mini documentaries?

Normally Jenna would care more, but a wave of nausea passed over her. Black dots danced in front of her eyes, but cleared as Beau sat her down at the dining table, Jackson just across from her with his bloody leg propped up.

“Are you okay?” Jenna asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “A scratch.”

“A scratch that cut right through your shorts,” Jimmy said. He had the first aid kit and rolled up Jackson’s pant leg, revealing a long, thin cut down the front of his leg.

“That’s not nothing,” Beau said. “Doesn’t look like it needs stitches, but we’ll see once Jimmy cleans you up. Jenna, you look pale. I’m going to get you some more water, okay?”

Jenna nodded and closed her eyes, hearing all the conversations around her as though they were happening in another room. She felt exhausted, like she might fall asleep right here at the table. Beau nudged her with a cold bottle of water.

“Drink,” he said. She took a few sips then closed her eyes again.

Beau and Jimmy and Jackson were talking about something related to church and Wednesday nights. “All finished,” someone—Jimmy?—said. Behind that sound she could hear Megan’s voice asking questions, one of the other guys answering. The roar of the ocean grew louder in her ears, as though it was rising up and up and up toward them on the third story.

“I feel…” she started to say, but couldn’t find the strength to finish.

That’s when everything went black.

* * *

When Jenna opened her eyes, it took her a moment to place the smiling blond man hovering over her. He could have been Beau’s brother: bulky muscles, wide grin, and hair that looked like it belonged in a surfing catalogue. Jimmy. That was his name. He had just said something and looked like he was waiting for a response, but she didn’t have one.

“Hello.” That seemed like a reasonable thing to start with. Her mouth felt dry, almost like her gums were pulling away from her teeth.

Suddenly it all rushed back: the memory of pulling the elevator door, her terror as the lights went out, Jackson’s arms around her. When the memory of the kiss hit her, she gasped.

Jimmy’s smiled disappeared into concern. “Are you okay? Jenna?”

She felt her skin flush. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

From her position lying on the couch, she couldn’t see anything but Jimmy’s face and the ceiling. Was Jackson nearby? How did he feel about everything that just happened? Her gut clenched with worry. What if stepping outside the elevator flipped a switch, like what happened only existed in there? She blinked quickly, hoping to keep in the sudden tears that threatened.

Jimmy shifted over and Jackson’s smiling face moved over her. The couch shifted as he sat next to her and took her hand, kissing her fingertips. Instantly her body released the worry that had tightened around her heart.

“I’ve got Megan until tomorrow, but would love to take you out in the evening. An official out-of-the-elevator first date. If you’ll have me.”

A date? A date!

“Yes.” Jenna’s smile was so wide that it hurt and when it released the tears she had been trying to stuff down, Jackson didn’t look bothered at all, but simply brushed them away with his thumbs, smiling right back at her.

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