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It was saccharine as hell, but once it came into his mind it was impossible to push out.

Yeah, she was going. But they’d always have the tattoos connecting them.

When they parked, Lydia was still rubbing at her back. “Come here,” Jackson murmured, leaning across the console, “let me check it for you.”

Gently, he pulled the tape from the dip in her lower back, opening a gap between the plastic and her skin. He swallowed hard as he looked at the design. The outline of two wings and a halo etched into the warmth of her flesh. An angel.

“Because I want to remember my time here,” she’d told Clay when he’d asked. “I’ve had such a great experience. And wherever I am, the angel will always point me home.”

Her eyes had met Jackson’s, as she turned her head until her cheek was resting against the back of the tattoo chair, her gaze soft as she stared at him. He’d swallowed hard, painfully aware that she’d been more honest about her choice of tattoo than he was.

He felt like an asshole, but then Clay had pressed the needle gun against her back and she’d cried out with pain, reaching her hand out to clutch Jackson’s, and the moment had passed.

“It’s a little red from where you’ve touched it, but everything looks fine,” he told her, taping the plastic wrap back down again. “Let’s go and grab a coffee and go home. You can put some more ointment on it.”

“Sounds good.”

Déjà Brew was busy as they pushed open the door, tables filled with groups of friends and school kids, along with a few familiar faces. Frank Megassey and Lorne Daniels waved at them from the corner booth, and at the counter Autumn and Ally were talking with Deenie Russell, as Nate stood behind the espresso machine making their orders.

“Hey!” Ally said, spotting them over Autumn’s shoulder. “We were just talking about you.”

Deenie grinned when she saw Jackson and Lydia together, his hand firmly holding hers. “So you really did take the day off?”

He grinned at her. “Word gets around fast.”

“It always does when hell freezes over.” Deenie grinned at him.

Autumn’s expression was soft as the two of them reached the counter. “How did it go with Eddie?” she asked them.

“Fine.” Jackson nodded. Lydia squeezed his hand tighter. “They seem like a nice family.”

“That’s good, because otherwise I was going to plot a ninja escape plan for him,” Ally said, leaning across the counter. “I have a black cat suit somewhere. I’ve always wanted a reason to wear it.”

“You can stand down with the cat suit,” Jackson said, his voice deadpan. “Anyway, Eddie doesn’t like cats.”

“Did you know his real name is Simba?” Lydia said to Autumn. “That’s weird, right?”

“It’s kind of cute.” Autumn shrugged. “The Lion King is a good movie.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t look like a lion at all. He’s too dark and his fur is too short.”

Deenie smiled at them all. “He’s definitely an Eddie.”

“So, we were all talking about you leaving and we came up with an idea,” Autumn said, as Nate handed her and Deenie their orders. Skyler was fast asleep in her stroller, and Lydia dropped down to gently kiss her cheek while Jackson asked for two flat whites and two Danish pastries to go.

“What kind of idea?” Lydia asked. “I hope it’s not too outlandish. I have to pack at some point.”

Autumn looked from Lydia to Jackson. “We thought we might have an old fashioned cook out on the beach to say goodbye. That’s if you two are okay with it. If you’d rather spend time alone, that’s fine with us.” She blew at the steam from her coffee and took a sip.

“A cook out sounds good.” Jackson nodded. He knew Lydia would want to spend her last night with her sister. She was the one she’d come to visit, after all. “You want me to talk to Griff and the guys and organize it?”

“I’ve already got Griff and Lucas on the case,” Autumn told him. “They have it covered.”

“Will there be s’mores?” Lydia asked, the itch in her tattoo forgotten. “I love s’mores.”

Autumn’s reply was drowned out by the shrill sound of Jackson’s phone ringing. Normally he would’ve ignored it, but he’d promised Lisa he’d answer in case of any problems. But when he pulled it out, he frowned, because it wasn’t Lisa calling. It was his mom.

He went to reject the call, but he stopped himself. She’d only call his dad, and that would piss him off more than actually speaking to her. “I’ll take this outside,” he said, passing a ten to Ally. Turning to Lydia, he asked, “You okay to pick up our drinks?”

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