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“Hello, Abigail,” my mother says.
Shit.
“Hello, Mother, why are you calling so early? Is everything alright?” I ask groggily.
“I thought I would try to reach you before you get busy. It seems you’re too busy to talk to me these days, so I figured if I got ahold of you early enough, you would have time to chat.”
Wow, not even—I look at the clock—six a.m., and she’s already starting in with the guilt trip.
“Yeah, sorry.” I rub a hand over my puffy face. “It’s been busy around here.”
She lets out a noncommittal hum. “I’m calling because I need your answer on whether you can fit your sister’s wedding into your busy schedule.”
Damn, she’s really going for it.
“Mom, I still have to talk to my boss about it. I promise to do that when I get back to the city, okay?” I so do not have the energy to deal with this right now.
“Fine. I expect to hear from you tomorrow then.” Before I can tell her I won’t be back in the office until next week, she hangs up.
Well, Merry Christmas to you, too.
An arm bands around my middle and I tense. Shit. We fell asleep after round two, and Jackson’s still in my bed.
“Good morning,” he mumbles sleepily, kissing my bare shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I tell him as I throw my phone back on the nightstand.
“Why was your mom calling so fucking early?” He groans, ignoring my reprimand. Not that it was particularly stern. I think he fucked the fight out of me last night.
“My sister’s getting married on Valentine’s Day, and I haven’t RSVP’d to her wedding,” I explain as I lie back down. My head aches something fierce from all the champagne I drank last night.
“Why?” he asks, resting his head on his propped-up hand.
Closing my eyes, I let out a long sigh. “We don’t get along.” I look at Jackson, and he motions with his hand for me to continue.
“Fine,” I huff out. “Cesily is marrying my ex’s brother. It was a bad breakup. He cheated, I told him to fuck off, and my family took his side. Every time we were all at the same event, my family would do little things like have us sit next to each other or call him over to include him in conversations, and invite him to all our family functions… little things like that. They wanted us back together. My sister and mother told me that’s what men in his position do sometimes and that it was no big deal. He would never actuallybewith those other women, and I should be happy to be the one wearing his ring.”
Jackson looks at me with a curious expression, then shakes his head in disgust. “What the actual fuck?”
“Yup,” I say, answering his rhetorical question. “The failed matchmaking attempts got so annoying, I told them if they didn’t stop, I would leave Charleston. They didn’t, so I left.”
Laying his head back on his pillow, he looks at the ceiling, trying to process this insight into the unharmonious relationship I have with my family.
“Do you think they’ll try again at the wedding?”
“Undoubtedly.”
He stares at the ceiling for a moment before a wide smile stretches across his face. Turning his head to me, he says, “Take me.”
I draw my brows down, looking into his smiling eyes. “Uh, say what?”
“Take me as your boyfriend.” His arm moves to my waist again, and his smile widens. “Show them you’re beyond their bullshit matchmaking since you have an amazing boyfriend who dotes on you every chance he gets.” He nods. “I’ll play the perfect boyfriend for the week, and they’ll forget all about the loser who was stupid enough to cheat.”
I must still be drunk if I’m considering this, but maybe Jackson is onto something. It would certainly keep my ex away from me, and my mother would never be rude or unwelcoming to someone with Jackson’s last name. It would also mean I would have to spend the week with him alone. Lines could get pretty blurry between us without our friends there as buffers.
“I don’t know, Prince. Family stuff can be intense. Are you sure you want to put yourself in that situation?”
“I want to keep the smile on your face from last night.” He looks at me with kind eyes. “The one that dimmed every time your mother called. She may think your ex was hot shit, but she’s never met a Hayes.” He gives me a confident smile, followed by that sexy-as-sin signature smirk of his—the one that got me in this mess with him, to begin with.
