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“It wouldn’t take a moment for me to reorganize it,” she protested, turning back. “That appetizer tray doesn’t go in the dishwasher, anyway.”
“Looks like it went in just fine to me,” he countered, blocking her way back to the kitchen. “Shall I resort to carrying you back here like a caveman, or can you let it go?”
She knew deep down that this wasn’t the hill she intended to die upon, but for some reason, it still rubbed her the wrong way. “Jaxon…”
He stopped, searching her face and ducking down to eye level with her when he couldn’t find her gaze. “Hey, you alright? You can go back and fix it. You just told me you were trying to let people help you, but if it’s going to bother you that much, I’ll help you reload it, you can show me how to do it the right way, and then I can worry about it too?”
“No,” she shook her head. “No, let’s… let’s go pack pajamas.” She laced their fingers, and he waited just a moment to make sure she was fine before resuming his leisurely pace back to the bedroom. Teagan allowed herself to be led, even rifling through her drawers before it hit her like an immense weight. Not the dishes, not anything like that. Just… everything felt impossible. It was so much at once.
How could she be expected to look for pajamas when she couldn’t stop seeing her own dead body in Eric’s eyes when he looked at her?
She gasped and stumbled, reaching out to grab the top of the bureau as her vision swam a bit.
“Whoa, I’ve got you. That’s it…” Jaxon helped her stumble back towards the bed and sit upon the end of the mattress. He knelt in front of her. “Talk to me, Teags. What’s going on in there?”
“How did he get those pictures, Jaxon?” Her eyes burned when the tears came. “Dad said he got them all. Who gave them to Eric?”
“We can find that out if you’d like, love… I’m sure your father would.”
“God, I’m so stupid…” She inhaled and cupped her hands over her mouth. “I should never have taken those pictures.”
“Yeah? And I should never have taken mine either. Never should have even talked to Eric McKinnon. Hell, I should have tried to start my business right out of high school, and by now, I’d be a millionaire. Should have kissed you back in high school. Gotten your sights on me instead of that little blonde shit.” He smiled in that carefree way that he had and then reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “See? It’s easy to have lofty expectations for oneself when the opportunity has already come and gone.”
“My sights were already on you. I just thought you didn’t like me.”
“Fine, steadied your sights then,” he corrected himself. Her brow knit and he leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose. “Don’t fret, love. You can take as many pictures of yourself as you choose, and you can give them to whomever you choose, but they cannot share them without your permission. If they do,they’reat fault. Eric’s at fault here. And Joshua. And whichever little skidmark who gave those to Eric.”
“It was probably someone who owed him or something…” she mused, sniffing. Jaxon got up for a moment, returning with the box of tissues she kept on her side table. She took one and dabbed at her eyes. At her nose. Wrinkled it up in her fist and imagined it was Eric’s little grape head and she could crush it into pulp or the world’s worst-ever compote.
“Or someone like me,” he said with a shrug. “Someone who just wanted to belong.”
Teagan sniffed. “Do you think if Dad put the heat on Mr. Dwight, he’d do the same to Josh? Get the names? Maybe that’d help?”
Jaxon nodded. “I’d say that’s possible. Now…” he pushed up to his feet and crossed the floor, where he knelt again and pulled open her pajama drawer. “Let’s find something for you to wear, shall we?”
She felt a smile pulling at her lips at the sight of him ever so carefully rifling through her clothing.
“My, I haven’t seen this before…” he said, arching an eyebrow in a way that was confusing because it implied he’d found risqué lingerie or something. And Teagan didn’t own anything like that.
He tugged out what turned out to be a nightshirt with a large sleepy cat on the front, and Teagan collapsed back on the bed. “You’re horrible, Jaxon.”
“No, no… I’m not either,” he argued. “Do you want to wear this?”
Sighing, she shook her head and got to her feet. “Let me look…”
“No, no, I’ve got this. Let me pick something,” he said, grinning as he rifled with more purpose. By the time he let her look, he had pulled out every old nightshirt she owned, even deigning to make a sexy growling sound at the one she’d gotten at a pop concert in ninth grade.
“You stupid ass…” she said, clicking her tongue and finding a pair of pink flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top that matched them. “I need new pajamas,” she said.
“No, you don’t,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter what you buy, I’ll only take it off again…”
“Really? So you don’t want me to buy anything made of satin? Or silk? Or even lace?” She grinned in what she hoped was a salacious manner.
She watched his throat bob as he folded her pajama pants to stuff into the bag they were taking together. “Only if you wish.”
Oh yeah, she wished it.
“I’ll go get the toothbrushes,” she said, rising to her feet and thrilling a little as his gaze followed her out of the room.
