A knock at the door froze us solid.

“Shit,” Jackson muttered.

My head hit his shoulder as I tried to calm my racing heart.

“One second,” Jackson called, his hands already working at the buttons on my shirt.

I tugged my straps to make sure the girls were put away and slid off his lap. He steadied me and searched my eyes.

“I’m fine,” I promised.

He nodded and strode for the door. “What the fuck do you want?” he snapped at whomever was on the other side of the door as he flung it open.

“You’re going to be late for the briefing,” Sawyer told him.

“Not sure I care.” Jackson muttered a curse and shut the door in Sawyer’s face. Then he closed his eyes and leaned against the door.

Certain that I had everything put back where it was supposed to be, I grabbed my handbag from the bed and slung it over my shoulder.

“Morgan, I’m—” Jackson started, apology filling his gaze.

“You owe me an entire weekend,” I said before he could finish. I wasn’t sorry about any of it, and I’d be damned if I let him be.

His eyes flared in surprise. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you at home.” I kissed him gently. “Now show me how to get out of here.”

He grinned, then opened the door and took me down the hallway and out to the parking lot where he kissed me again. Guess he really didn’t care about being late.

When I got home, Sam sat at the dining room table, making a grocery list that included enough food to feed an army—an army I’d invited for the weekend. An army we had to feed with the grill because I didn’t exactly have a kitchen.

Ember. Josh. Paisley. Jagger.

They were all headed here in three days.

Taking a helicopter ride suddenly felt like it was the easiest part of my week.

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Jackson

By the time I got to Morgan’s on Friday, there were two cars I didn’t recognize in the driveway—a bright yellow Defender and a blue Jeep Wrangler.

Guess the friends were here.

There were six vehicles I knew well parked along the right side of my drive, and from the sound of music coming over the dune, the guys had everything set up on the beach.

Sam’s look of relief when she opened the front door told me all I needed to know.

“That bad, huh?” I asked as she shut the door behind me.

“Not sure if bad is the word I’d use, but awkward is right up there. They’re in the kitchen.”