Page 75 of Jameson’s Salvation

“I can’t talk to you right now,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to talk to me but you do have to get up and shower. Harold Ward will be at your house in an hour.”

“Harold Ward?”

“The president of the Eastern Shore Beekeepers—”

“I know who he is. Why will he be at my house?”

“Because he’s helping us build your hive and he’s bringing you five pounds of Buckfast bees. He said that’s what you had before.”

Kennedy stared up at Jameson wide-eyed and in shock. “I can’t…I need to get up. Please.”

Jameson rolled to the side and watched Kennedy walk to the bathroom attached to his room. She gently shut the door and when the lock snicked, he knew she’d locked him out. His bent arm rested over his eyes and he really hoped he hadn’t just fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to him.

* * *

While Jameson was waiting on Kennedy to finish in the bathroom, he went downstairs to find Holden already up and in the kitchen.

“Thank God,” Jameson muttered and went for the already-brewed coffee.

“I take it Kennedy wasn’t happy with today’s plans.”

“Unhappy would be an understatement,” Jameson answered and took a sip from his mug.

“You know she has to rip the Band-Aid off. The sooner the better. We’ll all be there.”

“I know that, but man, you didn’t see her. I just gutted her. She seriously doesn’t want to go over there.”

“Give it a few minutes. She’ll understand.”

“I sure fucking hope so because if she doesn’t, I have a feeling I’m screwed.”

Jameson heard the water upstairs turn off and wanted to give Kennedy enough time to dress in privacy. He didn’t think now was the time to try to talk to her when she was wet and naked, even if he wanted to rush upstairs and tell her they could forget their plans and stay in bed all day.

When the hell had he turned into a pussy?

“Has Weston checked in this morning?” Jameson asked.

“Yeah. Lola and Janice made him pancakes, eggs, and sausage. He said he might be late because he could barely roll himself out of the kitchen. You have no idea, brother, those two women are like the food police. Only instead of telling you not to eat something they don’t let you up from the table until you have three helpings. They’re goddamn food pushers. And damn if the food’s not good, so you wanna eat it, but you know they cooked it with a pound of butter so it’s gonna sit in your gut and coagulate. And don’t get me started on the sweet tea. Christ, there’s so much sugar it doesn’t all dissolve,” Holden explained with a smile.

“Other than bitch about his food coma, did he have anything else to say?”

“No. Reggie Coleman took his wife to a fundraiser at the fire station then went home and didn’t leave. It was after ten and Weston wanted to get to Lola’s. She said she stayed awake until around eleven and he didn’t want to wake her when he got there.”

“McKenna hasn’t called with an update?”

“Not yet.”

Kennedy came down the stairs wearing a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. Before Jameson could remember she was mad at him, he moved in her direction but stopped when he caught the sad look on her face.

“I’m ready,” she announced even though she didn’t look anything of the sort.

“Let me grab my keys.”

Jameson jogged up the stairs thinking he better figure out a way to fix this fast or he was going to lose her.

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