My hips rolled on instinct, seeking friction and pressure—seeking Jackson.
He groaned, switching his attention to my other breast, and then he sent his free hand up the bare skin of my thigh. I rolled forward again, and he skimmed his thumb under the hem of my shorts, following the line until he dipped between my thighs.
Oh, holy hell, yes.
“Morgan, we—”
A knock at the door froze us solid.
“Shit,” Jackson muttered.
My head hit his shoulder as I tried to calm my racing heart.
“One second,” Jackson called, his hands already working at the buttons on my shirt.
I tugged my straps to make sure the girls were put away and slid off his lap. He steadied me and searched my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I promised.
He nodded and strode for the door. “What the fuck do you want?” he snapped at whomever was on the other side of the door as he flung it open.
“You’re going to be late for the briefing,” Sawyer told him.
“Not sure I care.” Jackson muttered a curse and shut the door in Sawyer’s face. Then he closed his eyes and leaned against the door.
Certain that I had everything put back where it was supposed to be, I grabbed my handbag from the bed and slung it over my shoulder.
“Morgan, I’m—” Jackson started, apology filling his gaze.
“You owe me an entire weekend,” I said before he could finish. I wasn’t sorry about any of it, and I’d be damned if I let him be.
His eyes flared in surprise. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you at home.” I kissed him gently. “Now show me how to get out of here.”
He grinned, then opened the door and took me down the hallway and out to the parking lot where he kissed me again. Guess he really didn’t care about being late.
When I got home, Sam sat at the dining room table, making a grocery list that included enough food to feed an army—an army I’d invited for the weekend. An army we had to feed with the grill because I didn’t exactly have a kitchen.
Ember. Josh. Paisley. Jagger.
They were all headed here in three days.
Taking a helicopter ride suddenly felt like it was the easiest part of my week.
Chapter Seventeen
Jackson
By the time I got to Morgan’s on Friday, there were two cars I didn’t recognize in the driveway—a bright yellow Defender and a blue Jeep Wrangler.
Guess the friends were here.
There were six vehicles I knew well parked along the right side of my drive, and from the sound of music coming over the dune, the guys had everything set up on the beach.
Sam’s look of relief when she opened the front door told me all I needed to know.
“That bad, huh?” I asked as she shut the door behind me.
“Not sure if bad is the word I’d use, but awkward is right up there. They’re in the kitchen.”
We rounded the corner and found the group standing in the unfinished area. The floors had been installed last week, and now tile that looked like hardwood covered the entire floor. The cabinets were in, and Morgan’s new refrigerator had been installed, too, but there weren’t any countertops yet.
There was a redhead with a small baby bump and her arm around the waist of a guy who looked to be about my height, with brown hair and eyes, and another guy with blond hair who was checking out the install job on the farmhouse sink. Next to him, a blond girl stood with an equally blond toddler on her hip, taking in the space with a smile.
They were all the same people from the flight school ball photo on Will’s Facebook page.
Morgan stood on the other side of what used to be the bar but was now an island, so tense she looked like she might snap. Even her smile was brittle. I wasn’t sure what her friends knew about us or if she even wanted them to know there was an us, but my apprehension fled the minute her eyes met mine.
Her shoulders dipped slightly, and the relief that flooded her gaze was palpable.
I crossed the floor, and when she opened her arms, I took her into mine, tucking her against my chest. Whatever we were, she wasn’t hiding it from her friends.
“Jackson,” she murmured, holding me tight.
“Hey, Kitty.” My voice was low as I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too. I would have been earlier, but I needed to drop Fin off at Vivian’s.” I hated this new every other weekend arrangement, but if Claire was going to actually live here, then I had to get used to it.
“Man, I forgot it was her weekend.” She sighed in disappointment.
“I wish I had. But she’ll be home Monday afternoon.”
Morgan pulled back and tilted her face up. “Well, I guess that means I have you to myself for a couple of days, huh?”
I grinned. “Well, you have to share me with Fin’s pets since I’m on feeding duty, but other than that, yes.”
“I find that acceptable.”
The silence in the room caught my attention, and sure enough, there were four—make that five—people staring at me with blatant curiosity. The blond guy had a little skepticism in his gaze, too.
“Um. Everyone, this is Jackson. Jackson, this is everyone.” Morgan introduced me, turning toward them but leaving her arm draped around my waist. “He’s going to insist that you call him Jax.”
“You’re the only person on the planet who calls me Jackson,” I told her with a laugh. “And yeah, please call me Jax.”
The dark-haired guy was Josh, and his red-haired wife was Ember.
The blond guy was Jagger, and his wife was Paisley—Morgan’s best friend.
“And this is Peyton.” Paisley looked lovingly at her son. “Can you wave, Pey?”
The boy tucked his head into his mom’s neck, but once I waved, he did, too, opening and shutting a tiny fist. Had Finley really ever been that small?
“So you’re the next-door neighbor,” Ember remarked with a slow smirk, glancing at Sam, who nodded.
“That would be me.” I smiled.
Pretty sure this was exactly how animals felt at the zoo, because they were all staring at me. The women wore curious expressions, and the guys were flat-out skeptical.
Morgan’s hand tightened at my waist as the quiet in the room became stifling. The island felt like a no-man’s land, with Sam, Morgan, and I on one side and her friends on the other.
“You were right,” I told Sam. “Awkward is a good word.”
She scoffed and smacked my arm with the back of her hand. “So did you four want me to get the swinging lightbulb so you can sweat him out in an interrogation right here, or did you want to do it by the bonfire?”
Paisley rolled her eyes, then elbowed her husband when he looked like he was considering it.
“I’d prefer the bonfire, since my friends are down there,” I said with a small shrug.
Morgan and I had set this up a few days ago, thinking it might be a little easier on everyone involved if we had a barbecue to kick off the weekend and break the tension, rather than waiting for Monday, when we’d have another one, of course.
“I second the bonfire,” Sam added.
“Is that okay for Peyton?” Morgan asked, her eyes drifting to the baby. “There are still a couple of hours before sunset.”
“Oh, sure!” Paisley answered. “We’ll just grab his sunshade. Baby?”
“On it,” Jagger answered, heading up the stairs. Guess that answered the question of where everyone was staying.
Once Jagger had the shade, we took the back deck stairs to the path that wound over the dune, and Morgan laced her fingers through mine.
“You doing okay?” I asked.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be
?” She gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
I paused halfway up the dune and told Sam we’d meet them in a bit as she passed us.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked.
Once the others were out of sight, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her.
She melted against me, and that simple kiss transformed into something far more intense than I had planned. When I lifted my head, her eyes were slightly glazed and her posture was infinitely more relaxed.
“That’s better,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear so I could see her face.
“What was that for?”
“To remind you that you don’t have to put on a front for me. I know you’re struggling with them here.”
She looked away, and I tilted her head so she’d bring those eyes back to mine.
“What if I can’t do this?”
“You can,” I assured her. “And if it gets to be too much, then you can head to my house and regroup. I’ll say you have to feed the guinea pig.”
“Even if it takes me an hour to regroup?” she questioned, lifting an eyebrow.
“She has a fish and a turtle, too. Trust me, we can find an excuse.”
She laughed, and I kissed her nose.
When we started back up the dune, I saw Paisley at the top, staring down at us with a mixture of confusion and happiness. Then her face fell slightly as she turned to walk back to the beach.
“She misses you.” I took Morgan’s hand as we started climbing.
“She misses who I used to be,” she said softly as we crested the dune.
“I’m not going to tell you how to feel or how to handle this. You tell me what you need me to be, and I’ll be that, okay?”
“I just need you.” She squeezed my hand and surveyed the small gathering. “You know they’re going to grill you, right?”
“They wouldn’t be good friends if they didn’t.”
Knowing that fact didn’t make the next hour any less painful. While Morgan sat with her friends, sneaking glances at me every few minutes, Josh and Jagger fired questions at me from both sides. She was close enough to hear my answers but trusted me to hold my own and didn’t interfere.
I’m twenty-eight. My daughter is five. No, her mother and I aren’t together. Yes, I like Morgan. We met when I pulled her out of her staircase. Yes, I know her contractor. Yes, he gave her fair estimates. On and on the questions came, until I was pretty sure they were about to ask for my social security number so they could run a credit check.
The only thing they hadn’t asked—
“And what do you do for a living?” Josh asked.
Ah, there it is. “I’m a coast guard search and rescue pilot,” I answered.
Morgan’s eyes locked with mine.
“Are you shitting me?” Jagger leaned forward in his chair.
“Nope.” I winked at Morgan, hoping she’d relax enough to breathe. Her gaze flickered between the guys. “Been stationed here five years.”
“Best damn pilot in the Outer Banks,” Sawyer remarked as he dragged a chair through the sand and sat on the other side of Jagger. “Other than me, of course.”
“And so humble,” I quipped.
Sawyer raised his beer in salute.
“You’re all pilots?” Jagger glanced toward the grill, where Moreno and Garrett argued over timing.
“Nawh.” Sawyer shook his head. “Javier is our best mechanic, and Garrett is a rescue swimmer. His job makes us look like chickenshits. And that’s Goodwin over by the water. He’s another swimmer. Hastings—the guy next to him—is a pilot, though. Those are their wives, Christina and Cassidy.”
“And she knows? Morgan knows?” Josh dropped his voice.
“Morgan knows everyone. It’s not like Jackson keeps her locked away or anything.” Sawyer shrugged.
Josh’s eyes narrowed on me.
“That’s not what he’s asking,” I said to Sawyer before turning back to Josh. “Yeah. Morgan knows.”
Appraising the level of tension, Morgan got to her feet and came around the timbers that we’d get around to lighting here in a few.
“And you know—” Josh started.
“Everything okay?” she asked, taking a seat in my lap and resting her arm over my shoulders.
“We’re fine,” I promised, putting my hand on her bare knee. “They were just asking if you knew that I fly.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I don’t like it, but I know. And honestly, once he took me up and I saw him rescue—”
“You got her up?” Jagger’s eyes flew wide. “As in up in a helicopter?”
“Jagger Bateman, isn’t that what I just said?” Morgan fired back, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t you dare go asking questions about me like I’m not sitting right here.”
I pressed my lips in a firm line to keep from laughing.
Jagger sighed but looked properly chastised. “Fine. Sorry. You actually went flying?”
“I did. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.” She smiled at me, and damn if that didn’t make my chest constrict. “He saves lives. It’s pretty incredible.”
“Who saves lives?” Paisley asked, settling herself in Jagger’s lap while Sam and Ember played with Peyton.
“Jackson,” Morgan answered. “He’s a search and rescue pilot with the coast guard.”
This would have been so much more efficient if we’d just briefed everyone at once.
Paisley blanched. “I’m sorry?”
“Jax is a search and rescue pilot with the coast guard,” Sawyer repeated slowly and at greater volume. “Me, too, and Hastings, over there by the water.”
Paisley blinked at Sawyer, then swung her face toward Morgan. “Honey, you’re okay with that?”
“Whether or not I’m okay with it doesn’t change the facts.” Morgan shifted her legs.
“Well, I know that. It’s just…” Paisley’s worried gaze flickered between Morgan and me. “Unexpected.”
“Everything about Jackson is unexpected.” Her smile was slow as we locked eyes. “And besides, it’s not like they deploy or anything.”
My stomach sank.
“What? Hell yeah, we do. We’re deploying in six weeks,” Sawyer chimed in.
Morgan’s face drained of color, and her body went rigid.
“I’m not going, Kitty,” I said softly, cupping her cheeks. “I’m not deploying.”
She swallowed, but it didn’t take the terror out of her eyes.
“The guys are deploying for three months to a cushy little outfit in the Caribbean. They needed a few of us to stay behind, and because I have Finley, I’m staying.” I kept my voice calm and even despite the panic trying to claw its way out of my gut. It was as if my body was responding to hers, or maybe I was just that scared of losing her.
“Finley?” she questioned.
“Right. I have a family care plan, but they took mercy on me. I don’t have to go.” I stroked my thumbs over her cheeks.
“You’re not going.” Breath by breath, she relaxed.
“He’s ditching us,” Sawyer complained. “But don’t stress yourself, Morgan. We’ll be back by the end of September.”
“You okay?” Fuck, I should have talked to her about it way sooner than this, but I wasn’t going, so it hadn’t been at the top of my list.
She nodded.
“Paisley!” Ember laughed as Peyton grabbed fistfuls of her hair. Then her laugh turned to a grimace.
“I’ve got you.” Sam picked Peyton up, but he didn’t let go of Ember’s hair.
“Peyton Carter Bateman!” Paisley chided, hopping up from Jagger’s lap.
“I’ll get him.” Morgan chuckled and headed over to untangle Ember’s hair from Peyton’s enthusiastic grip.
“Peyton Carter, huh?”
I asked. Damn, this guy was everywhere.
Paisley beamed. “Yeah. He’s named after my sister and—”
“Will,” I answered.
Her jaw dropped for a second before she composed herself. “She’s told you about him? Sam told me she was struggling with that—talking about him.”
“It’s hard to ignore that giant truck in her front yard, but yeah, she’s told me what she can.” I tried to offer her a reassuring smile. “And every day she’s capable of a little more.”
Her expression shifted from shock to envy and settled on pure gratitude. “I’m glad she has you, Jax.”
“I’m lucky to have her.”
“Paisley, your son is freakishly strong!” Morgan called out.
Jagger moved, but Paisley touched his forearm. “I’ve got him.” She rose from Jagger’s lap and headed for the baby.
“He likes the red hair.” Jagger laughed.
“Man after my own heart.” Josh grinned as Paisley untangled Peyton from his wife’s hair.
“So you guys done with the interrogation?” I asked as the girls walked toward the beach.
“I’m good,” Josh remarked. “Sam vouched for you.”
“You worried about passing muster, coastie?” Jagger challenged with a smirk.
“Nope. I honestly don’t give a fuck what you think about me. But it would sure make it easier on Morgan if you didn’t think I was complete dick.” I shrugged.
“You can stay.” Jagger laughed. “How did you get Morgan on an aircraft, anyway? Family day?”
“I disguised her in a flight suit and walked her straight onto the bird.” I watched as Morgan hefted Peyton to her hip in the dying light. She was going to make an incredible mother—if that’s what she wanted. Shit, did she want kids? Was Finley an issue for her? Not every woman wanted a ready-made family.
“No shit?” Josh questioned.
“No shit,” Sawyer answered. “She handled herself like a champ, too, especially when that rescue got called in.”
Hell yes, she had.
“God, I can hear Carter now.” Josh groaned. “Regulations state that you’re not allowed on this aircraft, Morgan.” His voice dropped into what was obviously an impression, but there was a soft smile on his face.
The Reality of Everything (Flight & Glory) Page 25