Page 66 of Where You're Planted

“Tansy.” He closed his eyes, immediately feeling that buildup in his chest again. “I know someone who can help them tonight. I will personally drive them.Youneed to see a doctor.”

“If it’s still swollen tomorrow—”

“God damn it, Tansy,” he snapped, quiet but sharp.

Her eyes went wide, and she glanced over her shoulder, where Ian was putting the last bag next to Lena.

Jack grabbed Tansy’s hand on the seat between them and squeezed it, apologizing, begging. “I will make sure they’re okay. But I need to know you’re okay.”

She opened her mouth to speak but must have seen in his eyes that he was two seconds from driving her to an urgent care himself because she closed it and nodded.

“Someone will have to take you,” he added. Because it was her right foot.

She narrowed her eyes in irritation. “Kai already offered.”

“Good. And for our date,” he said, throwing the Gator into reverse, “I’m coming to your house.”

19

Tansy

“You. Will. Open. Now.” Tansy growled in frustration, using all of her strength to peel back the impossible plastic packaging on a container of screws. She was half dressed, half drunk, and wholly immersed in an angry Olivia Rodrigo banger at max volume in her kitchen.

She resorted to biting the packaging. When the plastic edge cut into the side of her mouth, it was the final straw on a day so shitty she’d already all but given up on her impending date with Jack before it could even start. She grabbed the screwdriver off the top of one of her new, uninstalled cabinets and stabbed repeatedly at the package. When it punched through the plastic, Tansy hooked her fingers into the gash and pulled, letting loose a feral yell…as well as the entire contents of the package.

Screws flew everywhere, skittering across the cement floor of her unfinished kitchen and around the new cabinets,unmounted and scattered throughout the room, crowding the space. The sudden release made her knock over her child-size plastic Solo cup of wine and then bang her funny bone on the corner of a set of open shelves.

For one heart-pounding breath, she took in the mess, a knot pushing up into her throat. She was going to cry. She’d already done that on the drive home after taking Briar to Charlie’s today—deep, gut-wrenching sobs—until she switched to shouting along to angry girl rock for the last sixty miles. But now, instead of a sob, what came out of her mouth as she dropped to her knees with a paper towel was a watery, venom-filled, “Oh, make my fucking day, you absolute piece of horseshit.”

“Hope you’re not talking about me.”

Tansy yelped at the sudden, deep voice and scrambled back to her feet, graceless with her bad ankle. Jack washere, closing her front door and then crossing into her kitchen.

He reached to steady her when she wobbled, and she jerked away to stand on her own because he’d beensosmug seeing her ankle wrapped at work yesterday,sosure he’d been right to push her to the doctor, even though the X-rays had proven nothing was broken. In her haste, she knocked the wireless speaker off the top of a cabinet. It clattered down after the screws and the wine, her music abruptly cutting off.

Jack set down a big metal toolbox by the wall and bent to retrieve the speaker. He turned it over, and something inside rattled. “You should see the other guy,” he said to it, casting a glance her way that was both teasing and a bit concerned.

She probablydidlook rough, her face flushed from frustration and the wine. Also, she’d forgotten to change out of the sweats and slouchy, long-sleeve shirt she’d put on after her ice-cold shower earlier. She’d had to stay in there longerthan usual to shave, shivering and covered in goosebumps, because in the months since the hurricane, she’d let nature rewild basicallyeverywhere. She was more determined than ever that her next big purchase would be a water heater.

Tugging down her shirt self-consciously, she asked, “You make a habit of letting yourself into other people’s houses?”

“Heard youyell,” he said pointedly, setting down the broken speaker. Then, he openly took her in, from the damp pile of hair atop her head to her fuzzy-sock-covered toes. He licked his lips, his voice dropping deep and silky when he said, “Wow, Tansy. You…look…” But his intense gaze broke, and he finished on a chuckle, “Comfortable.”

Of coursehelooked good.His hair fell loose around his face, clean and brushed for a change, and he’d trimmed his beard short. His earthy, orange-and-green pearl-snap shirt was tucked into faded jeans that hugged his thighs.

“I lost track of time,” she muttered, frowning at a new dark stain from the wine on the knee of her hot pink sweatpants. “But you know what? Maybe this is what you get for refusing to have our date somewhere else.”

“Protest sweats?” he asked, amused.

She was wearing her best (okay,only) lingerie under these sweats, bought specifically for tonight and the sex she’d very much wanted to have with him. But after his pushiness to help with her house, she reserved the right to keep the simple black satin panties and bralette to herself. Letting him see her home in all its messy, unfinished glory was exactly as unnerving as she’d anticipated.

She dropped another layer of paper towels over the wine puddle and tamped it with her foot.

Jack watched her, his amusement shifting to something uncertain. Probably because she was radiating hostility,the origins of which she couldn’t even begin to explain. She was about to suggest they try this tomorrow instead, when she wouldn’t be such an emotionalandphysical mess, but he started plucking errant screws from the floor. His head swiveled from the cabinets crowding her kitchen to the empty living room and back to her. “You did a good job on your drywall. Can’t see a single seam.”

She tossed the soiled paper towels into the trash. “I don’t need your approval of my drywall.”

“Because you’re anindependent woman?” He grinned.

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