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Well, shit.
CHAPTER2
JACKSON
I’m so glad Abigail picked out her room before I came upstairs, and she realized it was across from mine. I know damn well she would have chosen one as far away from me as she could. She likes to fight our insane chemistry, but I know the truth and know why she fights me. She hasn’t forgiven me for being a complete tool when we first met over a year ago.That’s okay, Red… challenge accepted. I’ll prove to her I’m not the same guy I was last year.
Lying down on my bed with a wide smile, I think about all the trouble we can get up to this weekend. She’s told me we won’t be sleeping together again, but my hellcat likes to fight, and fighting turns her on. It’s a fine line, though. I don’t want to piss her off to where she hates me, just enough to get her fired up and needing somewhere to release that fire. We may look dysfunctional to other people, but we are who we are, and I wouldn’t want her to be any other way.
A knock sounds at my door, and Donovan peeks his head in.
“We’re going to get dinner started. The girls have already raided the wine, and if we don’t get food in them, there will be hell to pay,” he tells me with a chuckle.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
He nods and closes my door.
I have nothing to unpack since this is my room. Running a club in the city, sometimes I need to get away and have some quiet time for myself, so I have plenty of clothes here.
I smile to myself. Of course, they already found the wine. One thing I know for sure about Abigail is she likes a good fight and a good vintage. I may have stocked her favorite label last time I was up here knowing we would be here for Christmas. I’d never dream of telling her that, though. Knowing my girl, she’d insist she actually hates it and wouldn’t drink it on principle.
When I go downstairs to the living room, Aiden already has a fire started. He’s such a Boy Scout. Probably knows how to rub a couple of sticks together to build a fire in no time. We’ve come a long way, Aiden and me, especially considering he punched me in the face just a couple months ago for putting his girlfriend and my best friend, Lindsey, in what he deemed a dangerous situation. Not to mention all the times he’s had to clean up after me in my wilder days. I used to give him shit because I didn’t like him, but now it’s because it’s fun as hell to watch that vein in his head thumping in time with his heartbeat. He’s a good guy, and Lindsey loves him, so I can’t ask for anything more.
The girls have made themselves comfortable on the stools in front of the bar separating the kitchen from the living room.
“What have you ladies gotten into?” I ask as I spy the open bottle of wine.
“Whoever stocks your wine rack has excellent taste,” Abigail says as she takes a sip.
“You don’t say.” Grabbing the glass from her hand, I take a sip. “Mmm, delicious.” I stare at her and watch her eyes flare with desire, then quickly shut down. She doesn’t want me to see how much I affect her. That’s fine. I already caught it.
I smile and look at Lindsey, whose gaze darts between Abigail and me. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times. Sometimes, it sucks to have a best friend who was an investigative journalist in her former life.
“So, what’s for dinner, Donovan?” I change the subject before Lindsey has time to formulate any ideas about what she just saw between Abigail and me.
“Lasagna, Kasey’s mother’s recipe,” Donovan replies as he slides two large pans into the oven.
I look at my brother’s girlfriend, who is probably one of the worst cooks known to man, aside from her sister, Lindsey.
“Did you make it?” I ask nervously.
“No, Donovan did.” Kasey laughs at my obvious trepidation at eating anything shetriedto cook. Abigail snickers next to her, and Kasey smacks her arm. “What? I’ve gotten better. Tell them, Donovan.”
“Yes, beautiful. You’ve become very adept at chopping veggies.” He winks in her direction, and she shoots him a dirty look, sticking out her tongue at him.
“You’re going to be in trouble for that later, mister,” she tells him with an exaggerated pout.
“Do your worst.” He sends her a smoldering look, and she looks away, blushing into her wine glass.
Those two went through the wringer when they first started dating—dealing with my stalker, both Kasey and Lindsey being held captive by said stalker, and having major trust issues with each other as a result of everything surrounding the kidnapping—but their relationship survived, and they’ve grown stronger for it.
If I’m right, my brother has a little surprise for Kasey in his overnight bag.
When we came out here as kids, my parents often threw large dinner parties for various businessmen and politicians. My mother wanted to make sure there was room for everyone and that it felt like a big family dinner on vacation. We still have the giant table, though not nearly as many people come here. When my father suggested we get a smaller one, she told him she keeps it, hoping it would be filled with grandchildren one day. She’s subtle like that.
Sitting down for dinner at our large dining table, I’m next to my brother, with Abigail sitting directly across from me.
Well, well, can’t escape me now.
