“Griff, can you read to Skyler?” Autumn called from the kitchen. “And maybe leave these two alone?” She flashed Jackson an awkward smile. “Hey Jackson.”
He winked back at her to let her know it was all fine. Contrary to Lydia’s suggestion, there would be no fighting here. He just wanted his friend to stop being so damn overbearing.
“Griff?” Autumn said. “You coming inside?”
Griff looked back at Jackson as though he was waiting for something. Catching his eye, Jackson gave him a nod.
I won’t hurt her.
He didn’t say it, but he meant it. And maybe somewhere deep inside Griff heard it, too. Because he nodded and turned to walk back into the kitchen, lifting a hand to wave them goodbye.
“So you’re twenty-seven,” h
e murmured.
“Is that a problem?” she asked lightly.
“No.” Maybe it should be. A few years ago it would have been. But since he’d picked her up from the airport, he hadn’t once thought about her age. As he’d told Griff, they were adults, and thirty-three wasn’t that far away from twenty-seven.
And it didn’t matter anyway, because in just over a week she’d be gone, and their relative ages would mean nothing at all.
She slid her hand into his. “That was kind of hot,” she told him. “I’ve never had a guy go through something like that before just to take me on a date.”
“You never took anybody home to meet your dad when you were in New York?” His brow crinkled. He could still remember the talk he had with Hayley’s dad when they started getting serious. When he’d promised to never hurt her.
And wasn’t that ironic, since she was the one who did all the hurting?
“The kind of guys I dated back then weren’t the sort you take home to meet your family.” She wrinkled her nose. “And the ones I’ve dated since have been in different countries. So I guess I’ve never had this opportunity before.” She smiled again, and he couldn’t help but smile back, because she was so damn infectious.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed me battling for your virtue.” He shook his head.
She clutched her hands over her chest. “I really did. You’re my hero.”
She rolled onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth. He curled his hand around her hip, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. Her breath caught in her throat, making her lips fall open, and it took every ounce of restraint he had to stop himself from kissing her hard and fast.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For being so kind to Griff. He means well, really.”
“Yeah, I know.” He wasn’t sure what was biting Griff’s ass about him and Lydia, but whatever it was, he hoped he got over it soon. “Come on, let’s head out before it gets dark,” he said. This time he curled his hand around her waist, pulling her against him. Her body fit perfectly against his.
“Good idea.” She rested her head against his shoulder and he tried not to like that too much. “Lead on, handsome.”
“You need to release the parking brake, first,” Jackson said, pointing at the lever in the footwell of the car. “Then ease your foot on the gas pedal, and pull out into the road.” He’d driven to the hills, where he knew the roads were quieter, especially at this time of evening. They’d only passed one truck and a guy struggling uphill on a bike. It was the perfect location for Lydia’s first lesson.
Lydia nodded. She was leaning forward in the driver’s seat, her hands tight on the wheel, her brows pinching together in concentration as she tried to do what he instructed. It was easier than the one time she’d tried to drive a stick shift, but she was pretty sure brain surgery was easier than that.
Lydia pulled the released the parking brake, then pushed her foot onto the gas pedal. The car lurched forward. “Shit!” she said, taking her hand off the wheel to cover her mouth, which made the car veer to the left.
Jackson leaned over her to steady the wheel, his arm brushing hers. “It’s okay. Feel free to swear all you’d like. Just keep your hands where I can see them.”
She grinned. “You’re the first guy who’s ever made that request. Are you sure you want to do this?” The car had stopped moving. “What if I drive us off the edge of the road?”
“Then we’ll die.” He shrugged, his voice deadpan. “No pressure.”
“They might not ever find our bodies,” she mused. “Maybe not for years. We’ll be like that couple they found in Pompeii, their petrified cadavers curled around each other.”
“Or maybe Griff will remember I’ve taken you for a driving lesson and he’ll come looking for us when you don’t meet your curfew.”
She laughed. “I prefer the Pompeii scenario.”