Page 8 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“It was a flippingnightmare.”
“Ah, c’mon, babe, I’m sure it wasn’tthatbad.”
“Production messed up a $500K order, and we’ve gotta eat the cost of it.”
Jackson pulled an “ouch” face and sucked a whistly bit of air through his teeth.
“And I got to deliver the bad news to our client.” I took a bigger sip of wine, craving the headiness of it. The way it seeped into my veins and pumped hazy and fuzzy feelings into my brain, hankering for the buzzmore than the taste.
“Why didyoudo that?” Jackson chugged the last of his wine down and then reached across the island for the bottle, pouring himself another glass—and topping off mine. Bless him.
“Andy was”—I pressed the rim of the glass to my chin—“dealing with the fallout on the floor.”
Jackson humphed. “Oh boy, I’ll betcha that was amess.You probably got off easy, babe. Anyway”—he drummed his palms against the island, twisting his mouth into a slight pout, even as he brimmed with excited energy—“I was kinda hoping you’d be in agoodmood for this news. Not sure it’ll hit the same when you’re sour.”
I frowned. I was a little frazzled, sure. But had I been grouchy?
Shoot.I had been, hadn’t I?
Probably pulled a proper bitch face when I’d walked in, huffing heavier than the wolf in theThree Little Pigs.
“All I needed was this.” I held up the glass in a mock toast. “And maybe a little of this.” I pressed my other hand to his chest as I stood on my tip, tip, tippytoes (Jackson was nearly a foot taller than me) and touched my mouth to his warm, soft lips. “And everything’s right in the world again.”
He nuzzled his nose to mine, gave my bum a playful swat and then scooted back, hefting his right bum cheek onto the island in the half sitting, half leaning, all sexy pose he did sowell. “We’re going on vacation, babe!” he exclaimed, jiggling the full glass of wine in his hand, making a liquid whirlpool slosh almost up to the brim.
“Oh?”
“Don’t jump for joy or anything.”
“I’m…I’m getting there. This is…Wow.” I pressed my hand to his knee, squeezing. “I’m a little shocked, I think. Because I figured vacations were off the table until…” I raised my wine glass, gesturing toward the spacious kitchen, with its big whitecabinets, gleaming, grey marble countertops and sparkling appliances (gleaming and sparkling because I scrubbed them within an inch of their life every day). And then I threw my arm a little wider, motioning to the whole of our spacious, three-bedroom home. The 2,200 square feet of prime real estate we’d pinched and squeezed and barely extruded enough money to be able to afford.
Jackson waved his hand. “This trip’s barely gonna take a sip out of our savings. All we have to pay for is the airfare.”
“Airfare?” I squealed.
“Yup. But that’s it. Everything else I got covered. Mostly.” He tucked a hand into the pocket of his trousers. “There’s still food and extras and all, so we’ll say it’s about 80 percent covered. Enough to make this doable for us.”
A spark of excitement sizzled low in my belly as I leaned against the counter next to him.
Airfare.
I ran through all the places we’d talked about going to someday—that elusivesomedaywe figured would never actually come, but that we stillhopedfor.
Paris—the city I wanted to visit more thananything.
London.
Tokyo.
Even states within our own country. California. Tennessee. Washington.
“Ahhhh”—Jackson pointed his wine glass at me—“there’s my happy girl!” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and brushed his thumb against my lips. “I thought we weren’t going to see her tonight.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I tipped my tongue out, giving the pad of his thumb a lick. “Or are you gonna keep teasing me?”
“Niverwick Isle.” He tapped my lips.
I blinked. “I’m…Where?”
