Page 28 of No More Secrets
“Sorry. You have to be a Blue Moon resident, past or present,” Jackson explained.
The front door opened.
“Why the fuck am I getting a pre-dawn summons from Jax?” Beckett’s voice thundered down the hall.
“Oh, yeah. I called Beckett,” Jackson grinned.
“What the hell is going on here?” Beckett stomped into the kitchen. He was wearing gym shorts, a hooded sweatshirt, and neon running shoes.
“Quit whining. You were up already.” Jackson said, getting up to offer his brother a one armed hug.
“I was on my way to the gym.” Beckett slapped Jackson on the back. “What the hell are you doing here, Hollywood? I miss a fight?” He asked looking at the fresh bruises.
“Not much of one. LA’s softened him up too much. He was all ‘No, please, don’t hurt my pretty face,’” Carter mimicked in a girly whine.
“Oh for the love of God, will someone let Jackson tell us why he’s here?” Summer shouted.
“Thank you, Summer,” Jackson said. “Now, let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Mom’s. I went there first to catch some sleep before surprising your asses with my presence. But she wasn’t alone.”
Carter’s gaze darted to Summer.
“What do you mean she wasn’t alone?” Beckett demanded. “Is Aunt Rose staying with her?”
Carter smacked him. “No dumbass. Would Jackson come over here babbling about an overnight guest if it was Aunt Rose?”
“It was a man,” Jackson interjected.
“Uncle Melvin?” Beckett asked hopefully.
“Sleeping in Mom’s bedroom? No. It wasn’t Uncle Melvin. His car was in the garage, not parked in the driveway or on the street. She’s definitely hiding him.”
“Is this the same guy you texted me about? The one Bobby saw her with at the winery?”
“I have no idea,” Carter shrugged.
“It better be,” Beckett frowned. “Well, let’s go.” He dug his car keys out of his pocket.
They piled into Beckett’s SUV, Jackson in the passenger seat and Summer and Carter in the back.
“Why would she keep something like this from us?” Jackson muttered from the front seat.
Summer didn’t have the heart to point out that the three reasons were hurtling toward Phoebe Pierce in an SUV as dawn broke.
––––––––
They wasted no time letting themselves into Phoebe’s tidy townhouse. The front door opened to the kitchen and dining area on one side of the stairs and a living room to the left.
A chorus of “Moms” brought Phoebe downstairs in an ice blue fleece robe. “Boys. You’re old enough to make your own breakfast,” she laughed nervously. “Jackson! What are you doing here? What are any of you doing here at six in the morning?”
“I might ask you the same thing, Mom,” Jackson said, crossing his arms.
“Don’t you have something you want to tell us?” Beckett demanded.
“Is there someone you’d like to introduce us to?” Carter tried more gently.
