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“How can I help you, Jackson?” I sound like a greeter at a theme park.
“What are you doing?” Jackson asks. “Now?”
“I’m picking up a dog for the Working Buddies’ rescue. An owner surrender.”
“Owner surrender?” He leans against the locker again, and I avert my gaze. If he cages me in, I’m a goner.Don’t look, don’t look.
I swallow hard. “Someone called the rescue, and they have a three-year-old German shepherd. They can’t take care of the dog anymore, so we’ll take ownership and find the dog his furever home.”
“Forever?”
“Fur-ever,” I say, bracing for the snark.
He purses his bottom lip out and nods once. “Cute.”
I stare at him. Is this one of the other brothers in disguise?
Jackson pauses, his jaw churning. He looks up, and his green eyes hit me like a brick to the face. “Can I come?”
My jaw drops. The butterflies in my stomach fly in circles. “Really?”
“I would love to,” he says. “Is that okay?”
No, aliens got him. This shell looks like him, with the long hair tied back and an overgrown beard. I’ve never seen him this…jazzed. Animated.
“We’ll have to take my car because I have my dog stuff in it.”
“Perfect,” he says, following me. It’s the second time I will be in a car with him, but I will be driving at least and not hurt. He looks down at my leg. It’s healed nicely, but there’s a hint of a white line. “How are you feeling?”
“Good! No fever or desire for human flesh,” I joke. I expect crickets from him, but he chuckles.
Jackson is acting like he tolerates me. What’s wrong with him?
I know what will make him break.
“Is pop music okay?” I ask as I turn on the ignition. Mandy Moore’s sweet voice floats from my speakers. She is my comfort music, and I anticipate this surrender will be emotional for me, so I need her more than anything.
Jackson’s forehead creases as he deciphers who it is. “Is this…Mandy Moore?”
I nod, bracing for slander against my favorite pop star’s name. I can take hits when it’s about me, but I will go to war over her.
“Aren’t you a littleyoungfor Mandy Moore?”
“I heard her first on the classics station.”
I keep my face deadpan while Jackson’s head hits the headrest. “No, you didn’t.”
“Sure did.” My smile breaks, and I bite my tongue between my teeth. “My mom liked her. We listened to her a lot growing up in the car.”
Jackson presses the back of his head into the seat. “I almost had a heart attack. You’re good.”
“Like I said. I’m funny.”
He pauses. “I haven’t heard her music in over ten years. Is this from the movie about ballet?”
I’m shocked he knows that.
“Yes. My mom still owns the VHS. We used to watch it all the time, although it went whoosh.” I sweep my hand over my head. “Like all the sex stuff. It was a big shock when sex wasn’t just two naked people hugging on a bed.”
