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“Was that a word, Jackson?” she says, teasing me as she leans down, her palm resting beside my head. Her hair falls in front of her, obstructing my view. “I’m not sure I–”
In a swift motion, I grip her hips and flip her smart ass over so she’s beneath me and I’m on top. Her gasp of surprise is accompanied by her legs wrapping around my hips.
I lean forward, pressing myself into her and rocking my hips.
“You teasing me, Aubree?” I murmur, letting the hint of a threat hang between us. “I think I could find a way to tease you back.”
Her lips part with the sexiest fucking inhale I’ve ever heard in my life.
“Oh yeah,” she says in a breathy voice. “I think I’d like that.”
“Like?” I cock a brow.
“I think I’d love it if you teased me for the rest of my life, Jackson.”
An asymmetric grin pulls at my lips. “Now that’s the challenge I’ve been waiting for.”
EPILOGUE
Aubree
One year later
The cheers erupt from every soul in here, including Michelle, who’s got the baby in a carrier. The little one wears the cutest pair of baby earmuffs you’ve ever seen, which is a must for game nights at the bar. Technically she’s too young to be allowed in, but this is a small town and even if she’s not yet one, she can’t miss this make-or-break game to see who’s headed to the playoffs.
Just like old times, we’re all here in our booth at The Peanut Bar. Nick and Michelle and baby. Nate and Anne. Cheryl and me.
The only one missing is Jackson.
Not missing missing. Just late. Late for the game that takes place at the same time every Sunday. My foot taps erratically wondering where the heck he is.
“He’s going to miss the second quarter,” I fret to Cheryl. I’m not exactly worried for him. He’s a grown man and The Peanut Bar is in the same place as always. We even planned to come here separately, me with Cheryl and him with …
Well, nobody. Since we’re together. A smile creeps up to my lips as I check my phone again. Together, together.
We’ve been together since the night with the Chinese food. The awkward Sunday football game never happened, because it was never awkward. We simply showed up and announced we were a thing and ordered everyone a shot to celebrate. I’ll never forget Cheryl’s scream and Anne’s hug of unadulterated joy. About time was said a lot that night.
“The first quarter’s not over yet.” Cheryl pats my arm with a gleam in her eye. “Relax. Want another drink?”
“I’ve barely had any of this one.” The IPA sloshes in my glass as I tilt it.
Because I don’t want to have fun without him. Jackson’s easygoing, but I take my time with him seriously. If I’m going to get buzzed at the bar, I want it to be with him standing next to me and ready to take me home.
Fine. I want everything to happen with him standing next to me. It’s a huge victory to be with him, in my mind. He represents growing into myself as a woman and taking control of my own life. For once, I didn’t shove down my feelings and pretend they were worthless. I acted on them, and now I have the best man I could imagine.
Our team kicks off the ball, and the players rush around the field, arranging and rearranging themselves for the next series. I like when we play defense. Cheryl thinks offense is more exciting, but I like standing up for what you’ve earned. Plus, there’s a chance we catch an interception, which is the most thrilling thing that can happen in football.
The opposing team’s quarterback lines up, catches the snap, and throws the ball.
One of our guys jumps into the air, his hands up high. Almost—almost—
He misses.
“Oh, man, that was close.”
Nobody else in the bar reacts. I turn to Cheryl to see why not, but she’s not looking at me.
She’s looking at the man who just walked in through the front door of the bar.
Jackson.
He’s not dressed for a football game. No well-worn jeans, no sweatshirt or jersey.
He’s in a trim-cut suit that hugs his shoulders just right. A suit I’ve never seen him in. One that looks expensive as hell.
My mouth waters although my head is wondering if I’ve slipped and fallen. I could be dreaming right now and I wouldn’t want a soul to wake me up. This is more than what he wears to the office. He’s taken more care with his appearance, and everybody notices. How could you not? He’s all dark hair and blue eyes and wearing a jacket that fits him like he was meant to be on the cover of a magazine.
“Hey, Dani,” he calls out although his sharp gaze is pinned on me. “Can you turn the volume down a second?”
