Page 75 of Middle Ground
When Meyer returns, she tosses an unopened toothbrush at me. Again, I catch it. In the bathroom, I make quick work of brushing my teeth. Before I leave, I drop the toothbrush into the holder on the counter. If I have any say in the matter, that toothbrush will be keeping Meyer’s company for the foreseeable future.
Meyer is already in bed when I return, so I slip under the covers beside her and make myself comfortable. She ever so slightly inches closer, and I take that as an invitation to pull her against me.
“Bed buddies can do this,” I say, slipping my hand under the hem of her shirt to rest on her bare back, “right?”
“I think so,” she replies. “And this?”
Beneath the covers, her legs tangle with mine. I nod. “Seems legit to me.”
We lie in silence for a few moments, letting our own thoughts consume us. If her brain is anything like mine, it’s still trying to wrap itself around the events of the day. I know I was there, but I’m partially convinced it was all a nightmare.
“Jackson,” Meyer says to the dark. The use of my first name, so rarely done by her, draws me out of my head. “Someone set the inn on fire.”
I rear back, taken bysurprise. “What?”
I won’t lie and say that it hadn’t crossed my mind, but she sounds sure, like sheknows. Like maybe Pippa wasn’t so far off base this morning when she said things seemed suspicious.
She sighs. “Rudy told me. I don’t think he was supposed to, but he mentioned that they suspect foul play. They found some kind of accelerant.”
Words die on my tongue.Accelerant. There’s nothing I can say to make this better. In response, I draw her body impossibly closer.
“What are we going to do?”
“We’re not going to let this stop us, that’s for damn sure,” I declare. “Whoever did this, that’s what they want. We won’t give them the satisfaction.”
Slowly, Meyer nods, her hair tickling my arm as the strands move against it. “You’re right.”
“What’s the date?” I ask.
“Um, July tenth, I think. Why?”
“Just marking this momentous occasion for future historians to study. The day Meyer Ellison finally admitted that Jackson Vaughan isright.”
She begins to laugh. Her laugh—it’s real, genuine, and it sends a shot of pleasure through my body.
And I mark this day for an entirely different reason.
CHAPTER 26
MEYER
It tooka while for the investigation into the fire to conclude. With the vandalism and the photos we found, the police are beginning to suspect there’s more to this—that we aren’t seeing the full picture. At least they’re taking things more seriously than they were in the beginning.
Once all the evidence had been gathered, we were given the go ahead to resume normal operations and fix up the storage room.
Luckily, there isn’t any damage to the structure of the inn, but the room itself is not a pretty sight. The smell of burnt plastic still floats through the air, and there is a layer of ash over everything, even the parts of the room the fire miraculously didn’t touch.
I stand in the middle of the destruction now, taking it all in. Every time I set foot in this space, I can’t help but picture Jackson trapped between the flames. I try to push the image out of my mind, but it clings, almost as stubborn as me.
I don’t know why I care this much. I’m grateful—beyond grateful—that he made it out of this room that day. But I’ve lost sleep over this, and I don’t knowwhy. He’s just a guy. Just a guy who owns the other half of the inn. Just a guy who I’ve slept with, innocently and…not-so-innocently.
With a sigh, I shake away my thoughts and then get to work. The first step is clearing out all the burnt inventory so we can get the walls and the shelving repaired. I spend about an hour sweeping up soot and ashes before I hear a knock on the door.
When I spin around, I see Declan standing there, a group of people at his back. I recognize a few of them as his coworkers from the lumber yard. We know each other enough to be friendly, but I don’t think I’ve ever hung out with any of them before.
Declan steps into the room, and the group follows. They’ve got garbage bags and armfuls of supplies with them. I watch as they fan out, all taking a section of the room and starting to clear up the debris.
I whirl on my friend. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
