Page 88 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

“Everyone, I assume you’ve met Jack by now? Jack, everyone! Grab a seat. There’s one over there by Emily.” My gaze connects with Madison’s, and she winks at me and mouthsYou’re welcome.

How dare she! How dare my family meddle in my life like this. How dare they love me this much. And how dare my face betray me with a smile at a time like this when I should be upset to find him here. I don’t have my answer for him yet! I haven’t had enough time to perfectly craft the words to convey:I’m afraid of how much I love you.

But as my eyes connect with Jack and his retro orange-and-white-striped crew-neck shirt, I’m so relieved he’s not in Australia.

He walks closer to the only available seat at the table, which I’m just now realizing has been added purposely! They all knew? I will kill them all after I finish hugging them furiously, because Jack is here and even though nothing is settled, my heart feels at home.

“Hello, Emily.”God, just the sound of his deep, smooth voice melts me.

I can’t help my grin. “Hello, Jack.”

“Is it okay that I’m here?” he asks quietly.

We have a lot to talk through and figure out after how we left things the other night, but oddly, I’m glad this is how we’re seeing each other again for the first time. Hidden emotions inside my Treasure Chest of Doom scream that he belongs here with me and my family. That whatever conversation we have on the horizon, it’ll be okay. Because I can trust Jackson Bennett. Maybe I can even trust what we have together.

“I’m happy you’re here,” I say with gut-wrenching truthfulness.

Suddenly aware of eyes on me, I turn to see my entire family watching. But when my head aims in their direction, they each do some version of whistling and looking around into outer space.

“Okay, guys, they’re—Oh, hi!” says Amelia, the screen door snapping shut behind her. “Jack, right?”

“That’s me,” says Jack. “And you’re…” There’s a moment where he looks unsure of which name he should call her by. And I have to admit, I love seeing him flustered. Who knew Jackson Bennett could get starstruck?

“Amelia,” she supplies, carrying her tray of death-cakes to the table. “All my friends and family can call me by that name.”

“I’m honored for the privilege, then.”God…I love when he talks like Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Amelia approves too. She widens her eyes at me before she goes to the table. And now Jack is lowering himself into the chair beside me and I’m momentarily drugged off his scent. He smells fresh from the shower. Like a white bar of soap has recently glided over his taut, tan skin.

Amelia sets the tray of pancakes in the center of the table.

Noah grins. “James, I believe you get the honor of the first—”

“Jack should get the first pancake!” I fire out, making everyone jump from how loudly I blurt it. “He’s the guest, after all.” And yes, maybe it’s unfair, but suddenly I feel like putting him under a little test. A final quiz before I officially make up my mind about us.

Jack looks at me—calculating. He knows something is going on here, but still he says, “Sure, thank you.”

“Great!” Amelia beams. “Tell me how they are. I tried adding a little more sugar to this batch.”

Oh no, that’s never good.

The plate of pancakes gets passed around the table, and Jack seems to study everyone’s faces as it passes through their hands without anyone taking a pancake for themselves. But when the plate makes it to me, I don’t hand it to him. Instead, I serve him myself—forking pancakes onto his plate one by one.

After three pancakes, and when I’m loading up a fourth, he stops me. “That’s plenty, thank you.”

I blink innocently at him. “Oh. Sorry. Is that too many?” I slap afourth on because no matter how close Jack and I are, I will always needle him. It’s our love language. “Syrup?”

“Please,” he says in a way that intentionally brings the memory of the last time that word was used between us to the front of my mind. His own brand of needling.

Once he notices everyone watching closely, and because Jack is Jack and has to try to charm the pants of everyone in attendance, he ventures into polite conversation while cutting into his pancakes. “James, your farm is incredible. Did you always want to take it over?”

James adjusts his dirt-stained Carhartt hat and sits forward, like he’s just turned on a big game and can’t miss a second of it. “We’re not in summer school, Mr. Bennett. We don’t do ice-breakers at this table. Let’s see you eat the damn pancakes.”

I stifle my laugh behind a napkin and Jackson just cuts his eyes to me.

With hesitation, and everyone staring a hole through his face, Jack cautiously lifts the fork and takes a bite. Only because I know him, I can read the minuscule hesitation, the spark of disgust in his eye that, to me, reads as plainly as words on a page:Oh god. What is this shit?But Jackson is a master, so in a blink, he’s chewing his way through that pancake like it’s the finest filet mignon. Judging by how much he’s having to chew, I’m betting that was one wild bite.

“So?” Amelia looks hopeful as she watches, and of course he can’t bring himself to let her down with honesty.

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