Page 50 of Second Chance Vacation

“Then let yourself have me. At least for this trip. It doesn’t have to be this huge thing, this massive tide changing event.” He pulls me tightly to him once more. “Just let yourself have me and…let me have you.”

“Purely physical,” I retort on instinct. He pauses briefly before continuing his movements.

“If that is what you want.”

Jackson’s gaze meets mine before shifting to my mouth, only inches from his own. I press in closer, colliding my lips with his. The song changes, and I can’t resist allowing myself to fall victim to the moment, a ball of putty left to Jackson’s devices. We dance the night away, leaving only when the lights turn up and the music stops playing.

At no point during the rest of the evening does Jackson stop touching me. We make our way back to the house late into the night, and I can honestly say, without a doubt, I sleep like a baby.

NINETEEN

GEN

“Tell me about last night.” Savannah doesn’t even say good morning as she saunters out poolside, where I am snuggled up with my Kindle, enjoying a single moment of peace.

Wesley and Jackson left a couple of hours ago to get a workout in before we went out this afternoon, and, without surprise, Savannah slept in. I am thankful to have gotten the chance to have some time to myself after the past few days, but I have been waiting for this conversation.

“What do you mean?” I don’t look up from my book.

“Gen.”

“Savannah.”

“C’mon, Gen, we’ve barely talked since we got here. Something has clearly changed between you and Jax. I want to know.”

Still not looking up from my book, I sigh.

“Why? Because then you’ll be reassured that your stupid plan is working?”

Savannah pauses for a moment. We have talked little since getting to France because I’m still a little pissed off that she pushed me into this. Yes, it ended up being Jackson, but she didn’t know that when she concocted this mess.

“I already said I was sorry—” Savannah halts as I glare up at her through my brow. “I—I’m sorry.”

Despite her good intentions, I’m growing tired of Savannah’s lack of concern for how her actions impact me. It’s always about her. It’s always about how things work in her tangled web. I am officially over it.

“Why did you organize this, Sav?” I finally set my Kindle down as I look at her.

“I wanted to see you happy.”

“That’s not why—I mean, yes, I’m sure that was a factor. But you did what you always do. You move me around your life like a barbie doll, throwing me into whatever circumstances you want me to be in with little concern for how it impacts me. How many blind dates have you sent me on with people you and Wesley know? And how many of them was I compatible with? None.”

Savannah’s face softens. I clearly struck a nerve.

“Is that really what you think? Gen—” Sitting down next to me, she grabs my hand into her own. “I set you up on dates with the guys in our lives that I think would treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Has it ever worked out? No, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t. I haven’t seen you date the entire time I’ve known you. Even back in college, you would come back to school without a single story about seeing Jackson. Jackson—the one guy I’ve ever heard you express an inkling of interest in. Your town had what, a thousand people, and you never tried to talk to him when you went home? You don’t put yourself out there. You never have. I want you to be happy.”

It isn’t until this moment that I consider that maybe Savannah is right. I didn’t think about the way things would look from the outside. While I know why I don’t date, I can see why it wouldn’t sit with Savannah the same way. She just wants to see me happy, and I can’t fault her for that.

“I get it.” I sigh, pulling her to me. “But please—I’m begging you…stop. Stop setting me up with guys.”

“I wasn’t aware that was even still a conversation…” Savannah quirks her brow, a grin breaking past her lips. God damn it.

“It’s not that deep. We’re enjoying this trip. That’s it.”

For the first time in this conversation, Savannah looks genuinely perplexed. Her brows are pulled together, a look of contemplation painting worry on her face.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

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