Page 87 of Cherry Picked
“Getting tired of traveling for work?” Jack wondered. “Maybe you’re ready to quit the consulting game and take on something more… permanent.” He squeezed me tighter, and I leaned against him. “I highly recommend it.”
Reed laughed hollowly and ran a hand over his hair, freeing his curls. “Yeah. Maybe,” he agreed, though he didn’t sound too enthusiastic about it. “Got at least one more project I need to finish before I can think about that.” He darted a look around the parking lot courtyard. “Probably gonna have to get back to it real soon.”
“You’re planning on leaving already?” I frowned. “You know, we’d love you to move back here if you ever felt the urge, right? There are no Washington think tanks in the Hollow, but if you’re ready for a change, maybe you could find something new to do. And you could spend more time with us.”
“Moretime?” he teased. “That implies we’ve spentsometime together. You’ve hardly been home this week, little brother! You’re either moving shit to Jack’s love nest, or saving literal mountains, or working all hours.”
I felt my face heat, mostly at the pride in his voice. “So, let’s hang out tomorrow. I’ll take you knife throwing.”
His brows rose. “Knife throwing? That doesn’t sound like my Hawklet. Surely that goes against some kind ofPride and Prejudicelovers’ code.”
“People change,” Jack said, smiling down at me. “Grow. Mature. Horizons get broadened.”
I laughed. “My friend Crys is into it. Along with jiujitsu, and casually quotingThe Art of War, and figuring out which people in the Hollow are on a terror watchlist. You two might get along,” I teased. “Since Porter’s still, like, half-convinced you’re a super spy.”
Reed snorted dismissively. “Yeah, right. Don’t I wish? But, uh… I might be interested in meeting your friend. Crys, did you say?” He glanced back into the hall, like he was searching her out.
“Yeah! But Crys volunteered to work at the Tavern tonight so Ernie and Van could vote,” I said. “Apparently, people aren’t eligible to vote unless they’re permanent residents, and Crys only moved here a few months ago.”
Reed’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting.”
I shrugged. I still wasn’t convinced the voting eligibility rules of Little Pippin Hollow were at all fair, but that was another battle for another time. I was just glad it had all worked out in my favor in this case. “Anyway, come knife throwing tomorrow and I’ll introduce you.”
“We’ll see. I, ah… I might have to jump on that work thing I mentioned sooner than later,” he said apologetically. “Besides, I’m not sure how I feel about knife throwing with you. I still have flashbacks from the time you tried pitching softball…”
I reached out and smacked him for bringing up such a bad memory of gargantuan failure on my part.
“Hey, hey,” Jack said with a laugh, grabbing me around the waist to keep me from attacking Reed again. “He’s improved.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “There was even a moment where he threw a rock at a local villain earlier this summer. Hit him right in the calf so the guy couldn’t escape.”
I barked out a laugh and tried to hide it a beat too late. Jack lifted an eyebrow in question.
“I may have been aiming for his back,” I admitted.
Jack’s smile widened. “Even if it’s not perfect, it still works,” he said, his face filled with warmth and affection.
I let out a happy breath.
He was right. This unpredictable life wasn’t perfect. Neither of us was perfect.
But it worked.
And I couldn’t wait for a lifetime of imperfection with the perfect man…
For me.
Epilogue
JACK
“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” ~ Caroline Bingley
For the first time in a long time, I was nervous around Hawk.
“No peeking,” I warned him again as I pulled him through my house—now, finally, as of last night,ourhouse—toward the locked room all the way at the back, overlooking the spot where Hawk planned to start an herb garden next spring.
The sound of his warm laugh took the edge off my nerves. “How can I peek with a shirt over my face? And really, couldn’t this have waited until after breakfast? Or at least coffee?”
“Hush. No. I’m a little bit excited,” I explained before reaching out to keep him from bumping the edge of the table in the hallway. “Almost there.”
