I don’t know what drags me from my sleep, but whatever it is, I’m ready to kill it.
For a long time, I do nothing but lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling, wondering what woke me. Then, once I’m sure I’m not going to throw up because of my ill-conceived idea to knock back most of the contents of a bottle of vodka, I peel my head off the pillow and slowly get to my feet.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I venture downstairs to grab some cold water because I’m beyond dehydrated.
As I make my way down the stairs from my small third-floor room, I appreciate the quiet of the house. It’s early, not six yet, but I know soon everyone will be up to eat and dress so we can see Savannah and Jeremy off to the airport for their open-ended trip to Paris.
But before the house gets crazy, and I make breakfast, I need water and I need coffee. If painkillers worked on us shifters, I’d take a couple of those too, but I guess two out of three will have to do.
From the half-empty beer bottles dotting the stainless-steel and white marble counters in the kitchen, I guess we carried the party on here, though I have no memory of it.
After turning the kettle on, I down a tall glass of water and try to remember what happened after someone pried a bottle of vodka out of my hand.
It had to have been Dayne since I remember talking to him about… something, at one point. But there’s a gap between that happening at the BBQ, and me waking up in my bed at the rental. A pretty big gap.
I don’t even remember going upstairs or undressing before climbing into bed. I know I must have because how else would I have ended up in my paw print pajama bottoms and my tank top? I certainly didn’t dress myself.
When the kettle finishes boiling, I study it for a long moment as I consider the delicate state of my stomach.
Suddenly, the thought of coffee doesn’t seem like a good idea, and I abandon it in favor of topping up my glass with more cool water from the fridge door, and head for the porch.
Fresh air. That will help.
I step out onto the back porch that faces the Dawley National Forest a few feet away and close my eyes, letting the door swing shut behind me.
I’m so busy appreciating how refreshing the air is on my face and how cool the wood is under my bare feet that it takes me longer than it should for me to realize I’m not alone.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I open my eyes and turn to my right. “Why am I not even surprised it’s you?”
Jackson pats the space on the white wood bench beside him. The very small space his hulking body has left free. “Come sit.”
“Where?” I grumble as I pad over to him. Going back inside feels too much like I’m running away and that didn’t work out so well for me the first time. “You’re hogging ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the space.”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t rise to my provocation as I slump into the space, close my eyes, and lean my head back against the wall with my glass resting on my belly.
“You’re up earlier than I thought you’d be,” Jackson says, tugging the glass of water out of my hand despite my weak attempt to cling onto it.
When he replaces it with something hot, I open my eyes a crack and take in the paper coffee cup that smells of something soothing. “Why wouldn’t I be up early? And why did you steal my water and replace it with peppermint tea?”
I open my eyes the rest of the way and sit up. Turning to him, I discover he didn’t just steal my water, he’s draining it like he went through the hard work of getting it.
Hard work? I mentally snort. Yeah, Regan. Good one.
I go back to trying to ignore how fresh-faced he’s looking in a pair of blue jeans, camel Timberland boots, a black and red flannel shirt, and his long hair hanging loose around his face.
“Peppermint will help,” he says, not taking his gaze from the view of the lush forest ahead.
He looks like a model advertising some cabin in the Alaskan wilderness.
“Help what? Me not kill you for stealing my water?” Despite my snarl, I raise my hand and take a small sip because it does smell good.
“Your hangover.”
Since Jackson has his focus on the forest, I take advantage of my opportunity to study his masculine profile. “And what makes you think I’m hungover?”
He’s right, of course, but there’s no way in hell I’m about to admit to. Because really? Admitting weakness to an alpha? No, just no.
Jackson snorts and shifts his focus to me. “Might have something to do with you walking into a tree last night.”
I raise my eyebrow and try to look prim. “So? That doesn’t mean anything. People walk into things all the time. It doesn’t mean they’re drunk.”
“It does when they apologize to it.”
I mentally grimace, even as I tell myself it could’ve been worse. I could have fallen over or had sex with Jackson, so in the grand scheme of things, walking into a tree is nothing. An embarrassing nothing I have no memory of, still, it’s nothing to worry about.
But as I take in Jackson innocently sipping on my water, suspicion stirs, and I narrow my eyes. “You made that up.”
A smile forms on Jackson’s kissable lips, and I mentally sigh at his pretty eyes and long black lashes. “That drunk, huh?”
I start to deny it when his widening smile has me feeling wary. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”
He rises from the bench. “What makes you think there’s something I’m not telling you?”
Now, I’m seriously concerned that more happened than just my apologizing to a tree. A lot more. “Something else happened, didn’t it?”
The corners of his eyes crease with his amusement. “What makes you think something did? Since you weren’t drunk, if something had, I’m sure you’d know what it was. Wouldn’t you?”
I stare at him. Something happened, I know it and I have no idea what it could be.
As I’m trying to recall memories from last night, Jackson heads for the back door and I struggle to my feet. When you’re hungover and you’re holding something hot, it’s a struggle. Make no mistake about it. “Where are you going? Dayne doesn’t like you here with Talis being pregnant,” I remind him, in case he forgot.
It’s the reason Jackson, who had been renting the house before we arrived, temporarily moved out because Dayne is being hyper-protective over Talis. There’s no way he’d agree to have an unknown alpha staying under the same roof as his very pregnant mate.
Dayne said it was Jackson who offered, which was pretty decent of him, so Dayne and Luka wouldn’t have to go through with the hassle of finding somewhere else for us to stay. But even his generosity wasn’t enough to make Dayne any less unprotective.
Jackson holds the door open for me. “We talked it out last night. Which I’m sure you’d remember since you were there for the discussion.”
Is he lying?
I have no idea, so I just stare at him knowing that whatever I say, I’ll out myself.
“Since it’s still early, you should go back up to bed,” Jackson says.
I start inside, but not to go to bed. “I’m fine. And I need to make breakfast.”
As I step past him, Jackson slides his arm around my waist and hauls me against him. “You need sleep. At least an hour. I can do breakfast.”
My mouth falls open in surprise. “Alphas cook breakfast?”
Jackson uses a finger to nudge my mouth closed before touching his lips to mine. His soft kiss doesn’t go on for nearly long enough before he’s lifting his head again. “This one does. Now, sleep.”
“But I-” I stop to muffle the yawn that sneaks up on me, making Jackson grin.
“Go. An hour at least.”
Still, even though I’m tired, I hesitate. I guess other people can sort out breakfast, but it feels like it’s my responsibility, and with Savannah and Jeremy leaving for Paris sometime this morning, I don’t want to miss seeing them.
“I’ll wake you if you want.”
Which would be nice, but the thought of Jackson in my room with me, well, in any room with a bed in it makes me feel hot and then cold again. “Uh…”
He raises an eyebrow. “You want more water, you look flushed?”
I concede with a small sigh because my heart really isn’t in arguing with Jackson about this. I am tired and I could do with another hour of sleep.
He slides a hand around my nape and lowers his head for another kiss, and just like all the other times he’s kissed me, I lean into it.
When he breaks the kiss and I open my eyes, his are dark with heat, and I know mine must be too. “Or maybe we could skip breakfast and you can show me those pretty cherry print panties again, darlin’,” Jackson groans before dipping his head for another searing kiss.
I’m trying to figure out where I can put my tea so I can grab onto him when his words penetrate. I break the kiss. “What did you say?”
His eyes are laughing as he releases me. “I don’t know. What did I say?”
I narrow my eyes. “You said something about my panties.”
“Did I?”
“You know you did. How did you know what panties I was wearing? Dayne put me to bed last night.”
The full-bodied grin that stretches across Jackson’s lips has my gaze dipping to them. “Did he, now?” he says, leading me to the staircase before he lowers his arm from my waist.
I don’t move. “Yes. He did.”
Jackson nods. “‘Cause he did, darlin’. I’ll wake you in an hour.” Without another word, he turns and ambles over to the kitchen, whistling low as he goes.
For several seconds, I stare at the muscles straining the arms of his shirt. “Jackson?”
He stops at the doorway and turns to me, his lips still curved in a faint smile. “Yeah?”
I clear my throat. “You didn’t, uh, put me to bed. Did you?”
The smile on his face is so beautiful it makes me want to kiss him again. “Well, I’d say that’d be something you’d remember, wouldn’t you? What with you not being drunk last night.”
He stands there waiting for my response, and I’m left with two choices. I can either admit I was drunk, in which case Jackson will laugh it up and is no doubt waiting with a long list of things he’ll tell me I did that I didn’t. I can see it in his eyes. But at least I’ll know what happened. Or I can pretend I wasn’t drunk, and again deal with Jackson laughing at me.
“No,” I say, “I wasn’t.”
“I’d say everything’s clear then, wouldn’t you?” Without waiting for a response, he turns and disappears into the kitchen, leaving me staring after him, desperate to know what happened.