Page 27 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

“Hey, who’s the cutie?”

“Put me down. I’m fine,” Meghan grit out, anything but fine.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowned at her. “Your face is pale, grayish, and sweaty.

“You say that to all the women,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes, trying to combat her embarrassment.

Why was she so clumsy around him? Why was she clutching some random woman’s baby like the biggest warning sign in the world to a young, hot bachelor?

Not interested.

But her body was very interested, and she was tired of that traitor’s betrayal. She was not a clumsy woman. She’d been a varsity athlete in high school. And in the span of a few days, Jackson had seen her tumble gracelessly out of a tree, and now she couldn’t exit a building without stumbling.

“Put me down. I’m wearing a skirt.” She pointed out the obvious as he carried her outside where there were likely lookie-loos with cell phones likely to catch a permanent glimpse of her panties.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Put me down.” She tugged hard at the silk-linen pencil skirt that had ridden dangerously high up her bare thighs. “I don’t want to flash the whole town.”

“Too late. Emerald green,” he growled near her ear. “My favorite color. Matches your stunning eyes.”

Meghan choked on her reply. Jackson grinned and lowered her on to a bench that looked out over the river.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Jackson smiled at the baby who waved her spit-covered toy in his face.

“She’s already got the Southern belle moves down. You got a secret baby you want to tell me about, Megs?”

He spoke into a radio pinned to his shoulder while she gaped at him and a paramedic rushed forward to help, calling her miss, instead of ma’am, thank the gods. Although, why that mattered, she had no idea.

The mom—still holding her squirming toddler—approached, smiling widely and chatting while Jackson took the baby from Meghan and handed her off. He fished a fire hat sticker out of his pocket to hand to the clinging toddler and then and did some weird coin trick for the child that had him grinning and demandingagain.

“Who carries coins?” Meghan demanded.

“Jackson’s always good with the little ones. It’s his superpower.” Elise had joined them.

Jackson had way cooler superpowers than kid-whispering, but Meghan wasn’t going to mention it. She scowled when Jackon recited a clinical rundown of her previous injuries and her lack of grace inside to the paramedic.

“She stumbled,” Jackson outted her to the paramedic who squatted next to her and took out a blood pressure cuff. “Ankle sprain, twisted knee, two cracked ribs, minor breathing wasn’t impaired, but perhaps she should go to the ER and…”

“Definitely not going to the emergency room,” Meghan said firmly, glaring at Jackson. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Just serving the public. Have a good day, ma’am.” He winked and swaggered off.

“If I still had my coffee, I’d throw it at his head,” Meghan said as the paramedic checked her breathing.

Elise choked back a laugh.

“Most women want his number,” the paramedic said, doing a quick, professional assessment while Meghan clung to her skirt and tried to pull it lower on her thighs. She barely had any skirts. She always wore suit trousers, but because of her ankle wrap, her normal trousers and the ankle boots she preferred didn’t work. So, she’d borrowed one of Jessica’s skirts, and her sister was slimmer and shorter.

“Since Jackson’s joined the department, the rest of us have no shot.” The paramedic eyed Elise, who smiled.

“I’m sure you do just fine,” Elise said.

“I have his number,” Meghan groused. “But now I want his head on a platter dripping with my latte.”

“Very biblical. How good’s your aim?” Elise teased handing the latte to Meghan.

“You rescued our lattes,” Meghan marveled. “Queen. I have excellent aim, but you are cooler under pressure than I am.”

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