Page 4 of Jamison's Story

“Okay,” I tell him, lifting all the way up on my tiptoes but that’s still not enough to reach his head. He helps by leaning down and I brush a kiss to his cheek. His short beard rubs against my cheek, and I love the way it feels.

It was amazing when he kissed me. Feeling it brushing against my face, completely changing my mind about them and mustaches. I always thought they were stupid, liked Craig’s clean-shaven face compared to the guys in school that had stubble and raggedy facial hair they were too lazy to tame. Now, I know I was wrong—well, at least as far as ones that are maintained go. They’re sexy like Jamison, and I really want to get to know him more.

“Go, before I break and kiss you until you can’t begin to think,” he warns, and I smile, moving to the bedroom quickly. It’s the second one in the cabin, the one I used last summer when Nick invited me out before I went back to school. I wasn’t too sure about spending a week in a cabin in nowheresville, especially since he said he was still remodeling it, but this place was far better than I was expecting. The solitude wasn’t my thing last summer, but now…knowing it’s sure to keep Craig away from me, it’s felt like a sanctuary.

Add Jamison into the mix and it feels like the best place in the world to be right now.

I can’t stop thinking about him as I dress, forgoing a real bra in favor of a comfy little bralette. My boobs aren’t big by any means, but I feel more secure if I’m wearing at least something under my shirts.

I debate between leggings and shorts before choosing the shorts. My legs and butt are probably my best features, so showing them off some feels right.

I’m more legs than torso so to me, my legs seem long on my five-feet-four body, but compared to Jamison, they’re probably stubby. He’s taller than Nick who’s only five-eleven, but even he’s taller than Craig. Craig claims to be five-ten, but I’d say he’s more like five-eight, five-nine at most, which would have Jamison looming over him since he towers over me.

I grab my slip-on shoes before leaving the room. I’m not a fan of shoes while in the house, but with the kitchen in it’s already state of remodel, it’s better to have something on my feet than be barefoot in there.

I’m out of the room, heading towards Jamison extremely curious about him and his family. I’ve never known anyone with a big family, but it sounds so much better than a small one—well, if you can afford it at least.

I’m lucky I had Nick and Nanci still when our parents died. I could have been completely alone like my friend Greg.

My feet slow when I reach the edge of the kitchen, finding Jamison taking food, real actual food, out of a huge cooler, and I can’t hide the way my stomach growls smelling all the delicious aromas. A little blush hits as Jamison turns towards me, his eyes darkening as they run up and down the length of leg left bare.

A smile touches his lips when he sees my shoes that curls my toes because he’s so incredibly handsome. “Come help me decide what to do for tonight,” he tells me, holding out his hand my way.

I put mine in his, feeling the same rush of desire that flooded me earlier when his callused hand wraps around mine. My eyes flow over the items on the table and I can’t quite stop the lift of my brow seeing a lot have notes of heating instructions on top of them in very feminine writing. Different feminine writing I note, as one set is written in a mix of cursive and print, while the second is just print.

“We have family dinners every Sunday for whoever can make it. Yesterday was the mandatory monthly dinner since it was to celebrate all the May birthdays. I let my mom know I’d be out of town for at least the next week,” Jamison says, lifting my chin his way with a soft smile. “She called this morning while I was loading up the truck, telling me my third oldest sister Jackie would be stopping by with some meals they made for me to bring. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she just laughed and said they were already making meals for my twin, Jasmine and her family so it wasn’t that hard to add some for me so I wouldn’t live off of sandwiches if I was too tired or it was too late to bother cooking. Jasmine’s daughter Faye is two months old now. The family is still taking meals by, so she’s not stressed about making something for dinner, while also having a two-year-old, and a thirteen-year-old to take care of.”

“Thirteen-year-old?” I can’t help but ask because while he’s older than I am, he can’t possibly be old enough to have a thirteen-year-old niece by his twin sister surely. Not if he met Nick in college.

“Cleo,” he says with a smile, love shining in his eyes, and it hits hard because it’s so similar to the look that was in them earlier as he stared at me with hunger. “She’s Jasmine’s step-niece technically. She met her husband Adam three years ago when he brought Cleo in to have Jas plan her birthday party. My sister owns and runs Celebrations by Jas,” he adds, and my jaw drops a bit, because that’s the company that threw our scholarship dinner last year.

Each year Presley throws an event just after the start of the semester to let the scholarship students meet their benefactors. I won the school’s first Cartwright Endowment for Early Childhood Education, which covered everything from room and board, to tuition, to books, to a computer and even my car. Another reason I’m terrified of losing my scholarship. Since I’ll likely lose the car as well, which means having no way possible to get to school if I manage to stay in, or work if I have to get a job to cover tuition. Nick would let me stay with him, but his place is thirty miles away from Presley, so a car is a must.

“I think I’ve met her,” I admit, as he stares at my shock. “I won a scholarship to Presley. That’s why I was in Oak Grove instead of back in Johnsonville at the community college there. The school throws a dinner…”

“For students with scholarships to meet those behind the endowments. Was this your first year there?” he asks, and I shake my head no, smiling at the hints of relief in his eyes.

“No, I just finished my sophomore year. I’m twenty,” I add, and he leans down, brushing his lips across mine making me hungry for more, but my stomach growls again, making me flush.

“Good to know. I’m twenty-eight,” he states, and I nod, knowing that puts him at the same age as Nick. “Now, what sounds good to you? We have beef, chicken, pork and pastas.”

“Anything,” I tell him. “I’m pretty easy to please when it comes to food. There’s not much I won’t eat.”

“How about the pork chops, roasted potatoes, and coleslaw?” he suggests, and I nod, trying to stop from moaning at how good it sounds. “It’s one of our favorite meals Mom makes. The coleslaw mixture is good the next day, still crisp and all, but it’s best the day it’s mixed.”

“Sounds great. I’ve been existing off of cheap easy stuff I picked up at the gas station before coming here. I just wanted to get here safely and then I figured I’d find a store to get more. I just got scared every time I thought about heading into town that somehow he’d find me,” I admit, letting out a soft sigh when Jamison wraps his arms around me in a hug, holding tight before he goes back to putting things away, turning on the oven to reheat the food for us.

My first bite is absolute bliss. It tastes so much better than even the food in the dining hall at school and I thought that was good. I shake my head as his eyes twinkle at me as he enjoys his own. “I take it that you can cook as well considering the groceries you brought.”

“I can, that was one thing our mom insisted on for all of us boys, saying we couldn’t exist on take-out or expect a woman to cook for us when we moved out or married. She and Jackie enjoy it though, so they’ve dropped off meals that were ready-to-cook or reheat when we each moved out.”

“I’m sorry, how many of there are you?” I ask, pausing my next bite. “You said you have six sisters and four sisters-in-law right? So I’d say that means at least four brothers?”

“Six brothers and six sisters,” he replies, making my jaw drop again. “I have three brothers and two sisters that aren’t married. All but one are younger than me though.”

“Wait, how do you have four sisters-in-law if you have six brothers and half aren’t married?” I have to ask because the math doesn’t add up and it’ll just drive me crazy without an explanation.

“My oldest sister Julie is married to my sister-in-law, Serena.”

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