Page 22 of Jason Bourne
Jason
The mountain had finally quieted down by dusk.
No more neighbors popping out of the woodwork. No unexpected muffins. No uninvited livestock — yet.
Lane and I sat on the old porch swing, blankets over our laps, Thor sprawled at our feet snoring like a freight train. The air smelled of pine and the leftover blackberry pie she’d grudgingly agreed to taste (and then devour two slices of).
She rested her head on my shoulder, legs tucked under her like she’d been here her whole life instead of just forty-eight hours.
I nudged her with my nose. “Told you you’d like it.”
She grumbled into my neck, “Don’t push your luck. I’m still finding goat fur on my hoodie.”
I bit back a laugh. “Could be worse.”
“Jason,worseis the goat dragging my boot up the hill again tomorrow. Or that Martha lady banging on the door with another pie and wanting my life story.”
I pulled her closer, lips brushing her hairline. “Mmm. You’ll love her soon. You’ll be swapping pie recipes and gossip before the month’s out.”
She jerked back just enough to glare at me, her eyes fierce in the porch light. “I do not gossip.”
I smirked. “Sure you don’t. That’s why you interrogated Mrs. Winslow about whoreallyowns Gus the Goat.”
She jabbed a finger into my chest, trying not to smile. “He’s a menace. He’s a criminal mastermind in hooves.”
Thor lifted his head then,a low warning growl vibrating through the planks beneath us.
Lane stiffened. “Ohno.No. Don’t you dare.”
A faint bleat echoed from the darkness. A second later, Gus trotted out from behind the truck, tail flicking smugly.
In his mouth:the other boot.
Lane bolted upright so fast she nearly dumped the blanket. “Jason! He has it again! He has my boot!”
I clutched my ribs laughing. “Want me to shoot him?”
She spun on me, wide-eyed. “Don’t you dare! He’s an evil genius but he’s still adorable. Just — get my damn shoe, for Pete’s sake!”
Thor barked once, sprang down the steps, and lunged for Gus — who let out a triumphantmaaah!and darted straight around the house, boot flapping like a victory flag.
Lane flung her arms skyward. “I am living inhell!A beautiful mountain hell full of pie and goat theft!”
I doubled over on the swing, tears in my eyes. “Babe, welcome to Fraiser Mountain.”
She turned, exasperated, hair wild, cheeks flushed from yelling — then stomped up to me, grabbed my face in both hands, and kissed me so hard I forgot how to breathe.
When she pulled back, she growled, “This place is insane. But you… you’re worth it.”
I grinned against her lips. “Guess I’ll keep the goat then.”
“Jason Bourne—”
I shut her up with another kiss, Thor’s barks echoing off the pines and Gus’s triumphant bleats dancing under the stars.
23
Jason
