Page 36 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

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It was nearlytwo weeks later, and Meghan barely recognized her life. She was healed, busy but more content than she’d ever been. Each day felt loaded with adventure. The only cloud was that her parents had taken an impromptu cruise with friends, to help with their grieving, and Meghan didn’t want to share her news with them over phone or text.

So, it still didn’t feel quite real, but with the nursery’s open house tomorrow, she’d been busy and successful pushing off her concerns.

She loaded a small basket of strawberries into the Gator and leaned against it, letting the late afternoon sun kiss her skin. The last two weeks had been filled with long, active, satisfying and emotional days.

She was both tired and jazzed. Though she had plenty of jams for the open house, she’d noticed a few bushes at the lower elevation of the field that had a substantial number of ripened blueberries—enough to add to a small batch of strawberry-blueberry jam she could prepare tonight.

It was a Friday night. Jessica and Storm had been busy all week—Jessica preparing for the open house, Storm helping as well as meeting with new clients, and Meghan had spent the past two weeks in meetings and strategy sessions, easing out of her active cases, working remotely, and surprise, surprise, the firm wanted her to keep a few active mergers and clients on a contract, which eased her money concerns. And a bonus surprise—her firm wanted to long-term lease her condo for visiting lawyers from other branches or international clients.

Moving out officially had been easier than she’d anticipated since the firm wanted it furnished. All she’d had to do was clear out her personal items and clothes, pack up a few special things and art, and her high-end bed. She’d planned to hire some help, but Jackson had cheerfully offered the use of his muscle and truck, and the few hours’ jaunt had felt surprisingly intimate.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of him. She enjoyed his company but kept feeling like she was trying to fight a powerful undertow dragging her toward his magnetic appeal. She kept telling herself this was the wrong time to start anything, even as her bad angel whispered for her to bust out and have a little fun.

Why not? She was trying to change her life, build a new one, so why not indulge in a flirtation with Jackson?

“That’s the question isn’t it,” she murmured, and because she was unfailingly honest with herself, she knew the answer.

She was afraid she didn’t have the casual fun with men gene. Jackson would be too easy to fall for. Most days she felt she’d already fallen.

She saw Whiskey bounding toward her and had to stamp down the happy hop of her heart. She pulled a sweet potato and pumpkin dog biscuit from her back pocket.

“Hi,” she greeted Jackson as Whiskey chomped. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop by tonight.”

She still hadn’t come to terms with his schedule—nine days of alternating on-off twenty-four-hour shifts followed by six days off, but he often picked up an extra shift or partial shift to help out a colleague.

“Helped out a buddy this afternoon—his wife’s expecting their second kid. He wanted to go to the doctor’s appointment, but I said I had to peel out before six.”

Needing something to do, she grabbed another empty basket. “I saw some blueberries that looked ripe yesterday. I thought I’d make a mix of strawberry-blueberry jam.”

“I stopped by the nursery to see if you were helping Jessica and saw the shelves filled with your efforts over the past couple of weeks. This seems more like a full-on business than a side hustle.”

“You helped, and with fruit and veggies ripening in the summer and fall, those will be my busier times. Plus, now that I’m actually at the law office in Belmont and meeting with potential business and individual clients, I’ll be dialing back my inner Martha Stewart.”

“Too bad,” he said. “Although I’m a little disappointed that with all the social media posts you and Jessica have been tossing out there’ve been no Martha-inspired thirst traps.”

“Yeah, fruit-inspired skin care line is next.” She laughed and walked down a row of still-ripening strawberries toward the few rows of blueberries. She thought about planting more this fall. That would be a statement of confidence about the future as the bushes wouldn’t produce right away.

“You’ve healed up all the way,” Jackson said quietly.

It made her feel strange to know that he was closely watching her walk, noticing her in a way that a lot of men hadn’t.

“I’m not really sure what we’re doing here, Jackson,” she said, no longer able to ignore the uncertainty that clawed at her after his tease of thirst traps, showing up to help on days off, and the way he’d started to look at her like he… wanted her the way she wanted him, but was too afraid to admit it.

“What do you want to do?” he asked not pretending to not understand.

“Why’s it my decision? Strike that,” she said quickly, not liking the image of her as a passive woman waiting to be noticed.

“Good, because you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who doesn’t take charge of her destiny. Doesn’t chase and work hard for what she wants. Law school, check. Successful corporate career, check. Changing the career when it no longer suits, check.”

“Yes.” She nodded. But she lacked confidence in romance. “I don’t know what I want, and it’s driving me around the bend and back again.”

She turned toward him, dropped her basket and grabbed his shoulders, dug her fingers in and pulled him to her and kissed him. First hard, then she dialed back as his lips softened, opened, explored hers, and she made a little breathy sound of pleasure that mingled with his throaty groan as she bit down lightly on his bottom lip before sliding her tongue sensuously along the seam of his lips.

“You may not know what you want, Meghan Maye, but I do,” he murmured against her mouth, and pressed the heat and hardness of his body against her pliant one.

“What’s that?” she whispered huskily like the siren she wasn’t.

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