Page 78 of Broken Lines

Initially, I couldn’t believe my luck when I rode up to the shore to see his own boat missing from the dock. And here I was ready to either storm my way in with a rock and demand my property back, or wait until dark and literally break in to steal my phone back.

Except I didn’t have to do that, because Jackson was gone.

But the longer I stay in this house, the higher the chances are of him coming back—and of finding me here.

And I’m not sure that’s a scenario I want to see play out.

Eventually though, I find the phone. It’s still in the kitchen where I was pretty sure it was, but now it’s across the counter next to refrigerator instead of where I left it.

My face blooms with heat.

Sneaky fuck probably tried to get back into my pictures to look at those…embarrassingones of me in a fucking changing room trying on bathing suits.

Creep.

Except when I think of Jackson trying to spy on me dressed, or rather,undressed, like that, I don’t actually get creep vibes. I get…warm.

In places I shouldn’t. And it won’t stop spreading.

I shiver, trying to shake it off and swallow it down. I snatch up the phone and pocket it before turning to head back through into the living room.

I make a beeline to where I dropped my bag by the front door. Except I’m not even halfway there when said front door slams open.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I skip back a step, gasping as the huge, roughened silhouette of Jackson himself fills the doorway. I suck in a breath, and my eyes bulge as I stumble a step back.

Jackson prowls inside, his eyes leveling on me viciously, lethally, as he steps in and slam the door shut behind him. He leans back against it, one hand coming up to stroke his strong jaw as his eyes turn me to ash.

I swallow, defiantly lifting my chin, refusing to show fear. Which gets increasingly harder as the second tick by, and his dark gaze narrows dangerously.

“Breaking and entering? That, I didn’t see coming.”

I swallow my trepidation, glaring right back.

“I didn’t break shit. The door was unlocked.”

I lift the phone from my pocket and wave it in the air.

“And this is my possession.”

“On my property.”

I roll my eyes.

“What are you going to do next, hit me with ‘finders keepers losers weepers’?”

Jackson smirks, his eyes smoldering as he glares at me. I bristle, swallowing as I slide the phone back in my pocket.

“Well, you got what you broke in for. Unless I should check the house for my valuables.”

“Says the guy who doesn’t even lock his door.”

“Because I live on a fuckingisland.”

We both flinch at the sound of thunder rumbling outside. My skin prickles as jagged, torn lightening splits across the dark sky through the windows.

It would seem that temporary break in the storm is ending, and fast.

“Well?” I glare at him. “Am I free to go or are you calling the cops?”

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