Page 6 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

“I can handle a bum ankle,” she objected.

“It’s the other bum parts that the doctor was worried about.”

A rude swear word burbled up, but she bit it back. If Jessica knew what a potty mouth Meghan had cultivated in college and law school, she’d clutch the pearls she no longer wore since she’d quit her six-figure corporate accounting job to become an entrepreneur on the former family farm.

Funny that now she was an adult and spending more time with Jessica, she was making more of an effort with her language. Her colleagues would laugh their asses off. But the pain was making it hard to pretend a gentility and graciousness she wasn’t sure she’d ever had. She hurt and wanted to be alone.

“I’ll be fine.” Meghan white-lipped it as he helped to settle her on the sofa, and Whiskey brushed close to her as if to help steady her. Sheesh, she must really look as pathetic as she felt. “Go on your date with Cammie or Leigh Ann, the triage nurse with the sparkling brown eyes and too much lip filler.”

“Hey now,” he said softly. “I know it hurts, and I know you want more than Tylenol, but until we can rule out the concussion…”

She bit back the insult that poked at her mouth like it was a bullet in a chamber waiting for her to pull the trigger.

“Jackson.” She rode the wave of pain as he helped her to sit down. “Really, I can handle being on my own. I have the crutches. I’m a big girl.”

“I know. But you wanted me to bring you here instead of your mother’s or Sarah’s home, and I know Jessica and Storm are away this weekend doing some antiquing or barn sales along the coast.”

“How do you know that?”

He smiled. “Small town. Curious man.”

She wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“And Chloe’s South Point Abbey College’s a cappella choir has a spring fling concert choir sing-off competition at Duke this weekend so she’s away. I have the weekend off.” He smiled like he should get a round of applause.

She scowled and looked at Whiskey, waiting for a cloud of hair to descend—not that she minded a little dog hair—she’d always wanted a dog, but she worked and traveled too much—but Jessica was a neat freak.

“So, if not me,” Jackson continued with his protect-Meghan-Maye-from-herself drumbeat, “who can I call?”

She opened her mouth, but no one came to mind.

“Boyfriend? Roommate? Friend?”

Meghan felt utterly exposed. She shouldn’t. She’d chosen this weekend because she knew she’d be alone. She wanted to think. To plan. To figure out if the audacious idea that had been niggling at her the past few months had legs. For once, she’d wanted to indulge in a little magical thinking.

If falling out of a tree and injuring herself wasn’t an answer that she should stay in her lane, she was obliviously obtuse.

“I’m fine on my own.”

He smiled, and she sternly told her heart, head and tummy to not do the stupid girl swoony thing. She was long past being a girl, and her dances with romance had been… She couldn’t even think of a word that summarized the hollow, disappointed, cynical, heart-torn feelings she’d ended up with, and the conclusion that she was much faster and stronger on her own.

“Not the answer I was looking for. Try again.”

“What is this, a game show?”

The way his gaze assessed her was pure medical, not male.

Another blow to her feminine ego—if she had one, which she didn’t. Not really. And she didn’t notice him as a desirable man, not personally.

Sarah babysat him.

A wave of heat rolled over her, and she felt flushed and sweaty. This couldn’t be some early perimenopause. She was only thirty-three.

“You want to play a game?” His voice lowered to smoke, and alarm bells clanged. “Twenty… no twenty-five questions, just to get us started,” Jackson teased—at least she hoped so.

“What? No starting. Nothing.” Meghan cringed because she’d yipped instead of resorting to her professional deposition voice that had been known to make CEO millionaires and billionaires pale and ask for bathroom breaks.

“Chicken,” he said softly.

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