Page 59 of Middle Ground

“She truly wanted us to be partners?” I know I wasn’t open to hearing this when Jackson first came to town, but I’ll admit I am curious now.

Mom nods. “She did. She was worried about Jackson and all the time he was dedicating to his work in the city. She thought this would be a much more suitable position. For a couple reasons.”

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Not this again. Jackson and I are business partners, yes, but that is the only kind of partnership you’ll be getting out of us.”

Mom throws up her hands in surrender, the picture of innocence. “I didn’t even say anything this time.”

I go to say more—to tell her how ridiculous the idea is—but Jackson reenters the room. My lips snap shut, and I send my mother a look. One that tells her not to open her big mouth. I don’t need Jackson getting any kind of silly ideas.

“So,” he says when he sits down again. “I’m curious. Tell me more about this book club.”

Mom grins, and I groan, wishing I could melt into the couch. Bringing Jackson here was a bad idea. Involving him in more aspects of my life beyond the inn will only end in disaster. But judging by the way he fits so effortlessly, I have a feeling it’s too late.

I’m screwed.

CHAPTER 21

MEYER

Have you seen Jackson today?

Pippa

Not yet! I don’t think he’s been in.

Something feels off.

Not the same kind of strange as Jackson finding those pictures of me, but strange nonetheless. Usually Jackson is the first of us to arrive in the office, despite my efforts to come in early, and he always has a coffee waiting for me. This morning, there was no Jackson and no coffee.

I could text him myself. I’ve even thought about it, opening our message thread and staring at the screen. But this is everything I have been wanting since the day he set foot here—Jackson, out of my way.

Except…maybe that’s not what I want anymore.

I stand from the desk abruptly, my chair rolling backwards. Stuffing my phone into my back pocket, I make myway into the hall and head for the stairs. I haven’t been to Jackson’s room at the inn since I went on my tipsy rampage. I told myself I wouldn’t go back, for the sake of my dignity. But desperate times and all that.

After knocking on Jackson’s door, I take a step back, feeling all sorts of awkward.Why did I think this was a good idea again?

Because I’m trying to be nice. Because, as loath as I am to admit it, I’m more than just curious about the reason he’s missing work. Icare.

When the door swings open, the sarcastic comment on the tip of my tongue promptly dies. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

Jackson rubs a hand across his jaw. He is generally always clean shaven, but today, he’s let the stubble take over. It isn’t a bad look, though it is slightly concerning.

“Sorry, I meant to text you,” he says. “I’m not coming in today.”

Since he’s been in town, Jackson hasn’t missed a single day of work. Not once. I would be surprised if he has ever taken a day off in his whole adult life. He’s definitely the type.

“You’re not?” My eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Can’t I take a day off without having some kind of ulterior motive?” he asks.

“This,” I say, gesturing to his appearance, “is not like you.” I try to gentle my voice. “What’s going on, Jackson?”

He scoffs. “You don’t know me. And you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want to.”

My brows jump in surprise. “Wow, this really isn’t like you. You must be spending too much time with me.”

He sighs, the weary look in his eyes growing stronger. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”