Page 10 of Jackson

"Fantastic. It can wash away any remnants of dignity I had left," Maya sighed, her gaze following his. "What's next? A bear?"

"Let's hope not. But we should find shelter. Fast." He stood, offering her a hand up. "Can you walk? Or do I need to carry you?”

"I can walk,” Maya said quickly as she stepped gingerly. “Lead the way," she said taking his hand.

****

The first raindrop splattered onto Maya's nose, a cold start of the storm to come. Jackson tilted his head upward, eyeing the sky as if he could intimidate the clouds with his frustrated growl.

"Rain," he stated, more a declaration of war than an observation.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Maya quipped, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face.

They scanned the forest around them. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine.

"Over there!" Jackson said, pointing to where the land rose into a gentle slope. "High ground. If we're lucky, we'll find a spot away from the rain."

Maya limped slightly but keeping pace beside him. Her leg throbbed in protest, but she masked the pain behind a smile.

As the rain began to fall in earnest, their clothes clung to their skin. Goosebumps popped up on the exposed skin, making them shiver.

They pushed through the underbrush, feet slipping on the slick foliage beneath them. Finally, after what felt like an eternity in the watery onslaught, they stumbled into the clearing. A giant of a tree stood, its branches spread wide, offering a canopy that would shelter them for a while.

"Thank God" Maya exclaimed, not caring how dramatic she sounded. They darted to the tree, its trunk wide enough to provide a decent barrier against the wind.

Jackson pulled Maya close, sharing body heat in a practical embrace that nonetheless sent unexpected jolts of warmth through him.

“I’m going to kill Kane when I see him next.” Jackson said as he cuddled into Maya.

"And he thought it would be romantic. Nothing says 'romance' quite like near-death experiences and hypothermia," Maya joked, her teeth started to chatter in the cold.

"Adds color to your story, though," Jackson replied, his breath warm against her ear.

“I’m sorry Jackson. This is partly my fault. Kane must have heard the stupid plan Sarah and I came up with to buy you.” Sarah leaned back against his bare chest, remembering his t-shirt was still around her leg. “You must be freezing.” Maya put her head in her hands. “God Jackson, I’m so sorry.”

“This is not your fault Maya. This is all mine. I should have just told you I’m sorry for the dick move of leaving a decade ago.” Jackson tightened his arms around her, pulling Maya in closer. “I’d give you everything I had if you could just forgive me.”

"Everything? Assuming we survive of course,” she quipped as Jackson tightened his embrace around her for warmth. “I think it’s about time we both put our past behind us and start fresh.”

The storm thundered around them as Maya pushed into Jackson more for warmth.

Frustration etched lines into Jackson’s brow. Maya was cold, hurt and in pain. He wanted to protect her and was angry he was doing a crap job at it. He had always been the one with a plan, but out here, Mother Nature was calling the shots.

"Hey." His voice softened, fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Jackson could see Maya was struggling, the unshed tears about to drop onto her smooth cheeks. "We'll get through this. We’ve been through worst storms when we were younger.”

Maya's breath hitched, lost somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Jackson knew she remembered. He had always enjoyed the summer storms as it was a great excuse for Maya to cling to him.

"Remember when you wanted to walk into town and the storm hit half way. We had to run for it,” she whispered, the corners of her lips lifting in memory.

"Vividly," he murmured. "But you’re not running now."

"Can't run. Leg's all mangled, remember?" She nudged him playfully with her elbow, despite the dull throb that accompanied the movement.

"Convenient," he grumbled back. His hand moved to cradle her face, rough and warm. “Maya," he breathed out, and it was more than her name; it was a question.

"Shut up, Jackson," Maya whispered. “Just do it already.”

Their lips met, Jackson claiming her mouth as his. The rain poured, the wind howled, but in the eye of the storm, there was only Maya and Jackson. It was messy and imperfect, but it was exactly what they needed—a reminder that sometimes life gives you a second chance to kiss the one who got away.

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