Page 116 of Middle Ground
“Isn’t she so freakingcute?”
“Adorable,” he affirms, stroking between Honey’s ears. “Though I’m not sure Fish would agree.”
The only being not content with the newest member of our family is the orange tabby with a propensity for stealing underwear. We introduced him to Honey last night, and he regarded her with a wary expression, followed by a lot of hissing. Baby steps.
“He’ll get used to her. He got used to you, and Honey ismuchcuter.”
Jackson slides his hand from the small of my back and gives my ass a light smack. “How are Beatrice and Ilsa today?” he asks. “Did you have a nice morning?”
“We did,” I say, and then I grin. “I think Mom has finally convinced Ilsa to join her book club.”
It took me a while to tell Mom what I had discovered about my birth mother. I wanted to let it all sink in for myself first, but I was also scared. For the same reason I never went looking for answers, I was worried about telling her who Ilsa is to me. I didn’t have to worry, though.
As it turns out, Mom had suspected over the years, so the news didn’t come as a shock. Mostly, she was happy that we didn’t have that unknown looming over us anymore, and then she started including Ilsa in everything. They had already been friends, but folding Ilsa into our little family came even easier.
“Those ladies are going to give Ilsa a run for her money,” he says, amused. “Are you ready to go?”
“Depends.” My eyes narrow playfully. “Are you ready to tell me where we’re going?”
He chuckles. “Nice try, baby. That didn’t work the first ten times you asked, and it’s not going to work now.”
“Fine.” I let out a huff as I head toward the bathroom and close Honey inside. She’s still too small to have full run of the house while we’re gone for extended periods. When I return, I put on my sweetest expression. “I’m ready. But can I check one thing first?”
Jackson shakes his head, though he smiles. “The inn will be alright without us.”
“I know,” I say. “I just want to double check before we’re off the clock for the rest of the day.”
While Jackson and I would never truly be off the clock as business owners, we had made a concerted effort over the last year to cut down on the amount of time we spent hovering at the inn. Okay, the amount of timeIspent hovering. It’s a…work in progress.
“Okay,” he agrees. He grabs my hand and starts leading me out the front door. “But after that, I get you all to myself until tomorrow. Deal?”
I watch him fit his key into the lock on the door. Not the door to my old cottage, but the door to our house. Our home. It needs a lot of work, but it’s ours.
The first step in Jackson’s master plan was finding a house for us to buy. It couldn’t just be any old house, though. It needed to beperfect, according to him. I wasn’t all that concerned—I simply wanted to be wherever he was—but he made lists.Lotsof lists, full of pros and cons.
It was an extremely convoluted operation, but I left him to his precious data, and finally, two months ago, we closed on this house just up the highway from the inn. It has aspects we both like, but it’s enough of a blank slate that we can really make it our own.
I smile. “Deal.”
Once we get in the car after checking in with Pippa and Trystan, Jackson makes me close my eyes. I’m tempted to peek, but I hold back. Nervous anticipation fizzles in my belly as I think about all the possibilities.
After driving for a few minutes, we come to a stop.
“Where are we?” I can’t help but ask.
Jackson laughs. “Meyer, we’ve been over this. It’s asurprisefor a reason.”
I huff, but I let him help me out of the car and lead me to our destination. I can tell that we’re outside—the summer afternoon sunshine is bearing down on us, warming my exposed skin.
“Alright, you can look now.”
My eyes fly open, and I blink as my vision adjusts. “The creek?” I glance back at Jackson and then to the spread before me. “What are we doing here?”
It’s been a full, busy summer, and we haven’t been back since that day last year. The creek would always feel special, though. It was the start of something new for us.
Today, a blanket has been set out on the grass on the bank of the creek. On top of the blanket is a small picnic basket and a bottle of strawberry wine. My heart hammers in my chest.
“Oh my God, are you proposing?” I spin around, meeting Jackson’s wide-eyed stare. “Shit, I messed up your whole spiel, didn’t I?”
