Page 85 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“She’s fine.” Jackson’s hand clenched my shoulder—hard—before he smiled at Eos and Valeria. “I’ll take care of her from here. Thank you, ladies.” He stepped to my side so he could give the alicorns a bow.
They whuffled, charmed, as most were, by Jackson’s smile.
“Just remember, we’re a call away,” Valeria added. “If you need us.”
“Thank you.” I nodded at them.
“Okay, Pippi, what on earth is going on with you?’ Jackson asked after the wagon rolled away.
I walked to our cottage, wrapping my arms around my midsection to hold my slithering stomach in place. “Nothing. I just find it interesting that we always go to dinner or events with the peopleyouwant to go with. But whenIwant to have dinner with someone, you just…brush it off.”
This time, it was Jackson’s turn to scoff. And the wagon was gone, so he didn’t have any creaking wheels to hide the sound.
I inserted the key, stepped inside the cottage and turned, biting on my lower lip to keep it still, so the stare I fixed him with was more stern than sobby.
“Babe.” Jackson shut the door behind him. “Whatis the big deal? You’ve known those two ladies for what, a day?”
“About as long as you’ve known Kian,” I said.
“Yeah, but he’s…well…”
“He’s what? Male? Old? Richer? A Sorcerer? What makes him better than Melany or Sarah?”
“He’s…Well, he’s opportunity.”
“So people are only worth your time if you can climb up on their shoulders and better your lot in life? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. What the fuck, Pippi? Is that really what you think of me? That I’m a leechlooking for someone to bleed dry?”
No.
Say no.
I’m sorry.
This is stupid.
I’m being stupid.
Say no, Pippi.
But my mouth betrayed me. “I don’t know.”
Jackson’s eyes blew wide.
Anger exploded in my chest—hisanger. A white-hot rage that escalated so quickly it left me disoriented. I stumbled back, leaning against the wall for support.
“Well,” he said, his voice low. Dangerously low. “Thanks. You really know how to stroke a guy’s ego, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “That was so very mean.”
“No shit.” He bent, ripped his shoes off, chucked the left one at the wall, and propped his hands on his hips, his chest heaving. “Seriously, Pippi, what the fuck? Are you this mad because I wouldn’t talk to those two stupid chicks?”
“Don’t call them stupid.”
“I’m sorry. Would you prefer if I called them eccentric old bats?”
An icy thorn twined around my stomach, making my gut ache. For a heartbeat, two, three, I stared at him. This beautiful, god-like man, with his handsome, masculine squared jaw. Sometimes I’d lay awake at night, caressing that jaw while he slept. Marveling, usually, that such an ethereal creature would deign to share a bed with a mere mortal like me.
