Page 18 of Jumping In

Closing the book and clutching it to my chest I look up, meeting his eyes. “I . . .”

“Emmalynn, was that Alexander?” My dad’s voice carries from his office and we both look away from each other quickly. Mac pivots away from me to walk toward my dad’s office.

“Hey!” Standing to go after him, I try to get his attention. He turns and looks at me, so I stand still. “Did you like it?” I gesture with the book to clarify my question.

“Read it and find out.” He says with a wink before turning and heading down the hallway. I stand there practically dumbstruck for another minute; Mac has already enteredmy dad’s office, and I hear Dad calling for me to get things started.

“Be there in just a moment, Dad, sorry!” I look around the library quickly, spying the box of books I brought home from school that have not made it onto the shelves yet. I find the book I’m looking for and then head into another meeting with Mac and Dad.

The meeting goes well; I ask questions and take diligent notes this time, slowly building my case. Something feels off with this whole thing, but I think I’m still missing something. I learn that they have set the trial date for July fifteenth, which seems far out in relation to when the crime was committed. When I ask Dad, he clarifies that Judge Matthis is on vacation and won’t be back until the week after the Fourth. He said it’s better to give him a week back at work before this trial, hoping to get on his good side.

Dad also shares that Henry is still declining any meetings, which means they haven’t even been able to approach with a plea bargain. It annoys me that Henry is drawing this out so much all for a carton of cigarettes and a case of beer. It’s dumb.

I close my laptop as Mac stands and shakes my dad’s hand.

“I’ll email my notes over later, okay, Dad?” I rush out as I get up to catch Mac before he leaves the house.

I catch him at the door. “Mac, wait!” He turns around to face me and his face looks almost dejected. He’s lost some of that swagger he had when he first walked in, and it makes me sad. I smile softly and hand him the book I grabbed earlier.

“I thought maybe you’d like to read my thoughts on this one.” Colorful tabs are sticking out the side of the book and inside are highlights and notes. Thankfully, he reaches to take the book and our fingers brush. The butterflies that had finally settled rise back up with a vengeance. He looks up at me and his eyes soften.

“Sure, MJ. I’ll take a look.” I let go of the book, and he turns to head out the front door. My eyes follow him all the way to his car. I don’t stop watching, even as he backs out of the driveway.

Chapter 8

Mac

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. I’m cursing myself as I pull back into my dad’s shop and see Blake’s truck there, too. I had sent a message to the BAMF chat for an emergency meeting at the shop after another shitshow of a meeting with MJ and her dad.

“Hey hey,” Austin says as I approach him and his twin standing outside the shop’s door.

“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming over so quickly.” I unlock the door and lead them inside. Walking straight to the fridge, I grab three sodas and then head into the office.

“How’re things going? Any updates on the restaurant?” I ask them while settling into the office chair. The worn seat is hard on my ass, but it’s better than the concrete floor.

The pop of Blake’s soda can echoes when he opens it. “Things are good. Still planning and putting ideas together,” he responds.

“Yeah, you know, when you suggested opening a restaurant I thought cool, good food, drinks, and a cool space for parties. I did not think menus, interior design, decorations, and pricing,” Austin jibes his brother. The overwhelm rolls off them in waves. While I’m sympathetic, I can’t help but laugh.Typical Blake with a legit idea and Austin going along with it until he realizes it means he has to work.

Shaking my head, I respond, “I told both of you that owning and running a business was way more than fun times and hot chicks. Plus, it’s Oakridge. I still don’t know where the hot chicks are coming from, do you?” I try to lighten the mood and Austin smirks while Blake shakes his head in annoyance.

“Tourists though!” Austin hollers and pumps his fist. “They’ll show up from somewhere. Why are you so worried, though? Don’t you have your own chick to ogle now?” He wags his eyebrows suggestively. “Have you seen her since last weekend?” he asks.

“Did I call it? She’s totally helping Mr. L with your case, huh?” Blake guesses.

“Yeah, yeah, you were fucking right, of course.” I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. Blake takes a drink of his soda and looks at me over the top of the can, raising his eyebrow as if to say okay, go on.

“I’m in so much fucking trouble.” I sigh.

“Well, yeah, we know the case. I still think you’re stupid to be—” Blake starts, but I cut him off.

“No, no, not the case. Well, yeah, the case too but, fuck! Yes, she’s sitting in on the meetings. She was in the one on Monday and the one this morning.”

“And . . .” Austin prods for me to continue.

“And on Monday, she asked me to call her Emmalynn,” I reply.

“The fuck?” Austin says, and Blake nods, showing he’s wondering the same thing.

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