Page 134 of Under Southern Stars
“Nervous?” Jack asks as we approach the house.
“A little,” I admit. “It’s not every day you face your boyfriend’s wealthy family the morning after reconciling from a major relationship crisis.”
“Boyfriend,” he repeats, smiling. “I like the sound of that. Very teenage.”
“Partner? Significant other?” I offer.
“How about ‘the man who adores you and plans to spend the rest of his life making you happy’?” He squeezes my hand. “Too wordy for everyday use?”
“Just a bit,” I laugh, warmth spreading through my chest at the casual reference to our future together.
We enter through the kitchen door, where the delicious aroma of coffee, bacon, and freshly baked bread envelops us. A woman I recognize as Mrs. Petersen, the housekeeper Jack had mentioned, is directing two younger staff members in breakfast preparations.
“Mr. Jackson!” she exclaims, her face lighting up. “And Ms. Mitchell! Everyone’s in the breakfast room. I’ve just sent through fresh pastries.”
“Thanks, Mrs. P,” Jack says warmly. “Smells amazing as always.”
“Back to your old tricks already, young man,” she scolds good-naturedly. “Sneaking in through my kitchen to avoid the front door.”
Jack grins, unrepentant. “Some habits never die.”
Mrs. Petersen turns to me, her expression softening. “Lovely to see you this morning, Ms. Mitchell. Your daughter is quite the charmer—she’s been helping with the kiwi feeding since dawn.”
“Please, call me Sophia,” I say. “And thank you for making us feel so welcome.”
She beams at me. “Off you go, now. Helen’s been asking after you both.”
As we continue through the house, Jack leans close. “Mrs. Petersen’s approval is not given lightly. You’ve officially been accepted into the McKenzie inner circle.”
“One down, how many to go?” I ask, only half-joking.
“Just one that truly matters,” he says, pausing before the breakfast room door. “Madison. Though from the sounds of it, you’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
He was right. As we enter the sunlit breakfast room, Madison’s laugh is the first thing I hear—bright and uninhibited as she recounts something to the assembled McKenzies. “…and then Mom just took the needle and shoved it right into the guy’s chest, and everyone was like, whoa!” Madison is gesturing dramatically. “Jack says it’s called a needle decompression, and it saved the guy’s life!”
Emma spots us first. “Speaking of the heroes,” she announces, her face splitting into a knowing grin. “Look what the kiwi dragged in.”
All heads turn our way. Madison’s face lights up. “Mom! Jack! Where have you been? Lily took me to feed the kiwis this morning, and they’re so cool! Did you know the females are bigger than the males? And they’re related to ostriches? And—”
“Breathe, Madison,” I laugh, crossing to kiss the top of her head. “Good morning, everyone.”
Helen McKenzie’s eyes are sharp as they move from me to Jack and back again, taking in our clasped hands, our slightly rumpled appearance. “Good morning, indeed,” she says, her tone unreadable. “Coffee?”
“Please,” I say, sliding into an empty chair beside Madison. Jack takes the seat on my other side, his hand finding mine under the table.
Michael McKenzie catches my eye from across the table and gives me a small, approving nod. “Sleep well?” he asks Jack, his tone deceptively innocent.
“Wonderfully,” Jack replies, matching his father’s casual delivery. “The cottage always was the most comfortable place on the property.”
Charlotte snorts into her coffee. “Subtle, you two.”
Throughout this exchange, Madison is watching with the keen attention of someone who knows adult subtext is flying over her head but is determined to catch as much as possible. “So,” she says slowly, turning to me, “are you and Jack okay now?”
Leave it to a teenager to cut straight to the heart of the matter once again. The breakfast table falls silent, all pretense of polite morning conversation is abandoned as everyone awaits my answer.
I look at Jack, who gives me an encouraging smile, then back to Madison. “Yes,” I say simply. “We’re okay.”
“More than okay,” Jack adds, lifting our joined hands to press a kiss to my knuckles.
