Chapter 8

"Have you seen the new vet?" June asks me from the back seat of the truck as she wiggles her fingers inside of Tigger's cage, trying to pet him.

"The new vet?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm sure Tigger needs checkups."

"June." There is a warning in Jackson's tone.

"What?" She has her mischievous smile on. I'm not sure what she's up to, but she's not good at hiding anything after she's had a few drinks. "Just saying you're single and got a whole tiger here."

"He's a Maine Coon," I correct. I'd never own a tiger. "Did you know there are more captive tigers in the States than there are out in the wild?"

"No, shit." June snaps her fingers. "Bet the new vet knows that."

"June. Get out of the damn truck. We're here."

"Someone is in a mood." June leans forwards and kisses me on the cheek. "Call me tomorrow," she says before bouncing from the truck. I wonder why she hadn't invited me to stay with her.

"Are you sure this isn't a bother? Maybe I could stay with June," I ask Jackson again for what is probably the hundredth time.

"No bother at all." He glances over toward me. I could get lost in those eyes of his. "You're staying with me." There is a finality to his words.

We drive for about five minutes before Jackson turns off the main road onto a more isolated one that"s all gravel. Trees line the road. I swear it's like we are going deep into the forest. Everything is super quiet, the trees are ginormous, and it's almost pitch black.

I turn toward the back seat to check on Tigger, who's in his carrier. He's nestled himself up against the back of it. I can barely see him, which is saying a lot.

"Mama's baby," I call him, but he doesn't really budge. He's scared. "He's afraid of the dark!" I squeak, much louder than I'd anticipated. Okay, maybe I screamed it a bit, surprising Jackson and causing him to slow down. He looks over at me. "I need to turn on the light in the back seat." I reach to undo my seatbelt, but Jackson's hand stops me. Within seconds, the light comes on. Tigger immediately begins to purr, letting me know that he feels safe again. "Thanks. He may be a big boy, but he doesn't like the dark. He's ferocious in other parts of his life," I add, defending him, just in case there's any judgment being made.

I peek into the back again. Tigger is now facing in my direction, giving me the look he usually does if I forget to leave a lamp on for him.

"I'm sorry. We're basically homeless, so you'll just have to forgive me for forgetting." I turn back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. The events of tonight are finally hitting me.

Jackson doesn't say a word, but I can feel his gaze on me. I force myself to keep my eyes forward, but it's not easy. Seconds later, we are moving again.

"You know cats can see in the dark." Jackson finally speaks, a smirk on his lips.

"Oh, right." I peek back at Tigger, who is still purring.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

"We're talking about Tigger, not me."

"He might sense your fear."

"Maybe a little," I admit. "These trees are scary."

"I promise you're safe out here with me, princess." I don't know this man, but for some reason, I believe him. My eyes stay trained on his lips. They're thick like the rest of him. My mind starts to go somewhere dirty. "You're blushing."

"What? I am not!"

Jackson lets out a low chuckle. "We're here." He puts the truck into park.

"Wow," I whisper, seeing the beautiful log cabin. It is tucked away like its own secret. It reminds me of a cabin you'd see in a commercial with snow falling. There is a deck that wraps around it.

Jackson opens the truck door for me. "Easy," he says, taking my hand when I go to jump down. "You're still tipsy."

"Am I?" My eyes drop to his lips again. Don't go there! I tell myself. Yes, I must be because I'm having dirty thoughts about Jackson's mouth and what it would feel and taste like.

"You're blushing again."

"It's not nice to call that out." I press my palms to my cheeks. "Maybe I'm hot."

"Are you?"

"We should get Tigger."

Jackson shakes his head. "I'll get your stuff."

He easily grabs all my things, carrying them inside for me. I watch as he turns off the alarm before opening the crate and letting Tigger out. That big rascal wastes no time bolting out of the cage, ready to do a full inspection.

"You sure he's okay to roam?"

"He's fine."

"Thank you," I say again. Tigger has been cooped up in a motel. I try to take him out as much as possible. The open floor plan in the cabin makes it feel easier to breathe. So unlike the motel that often had a damp smell to it.

"You don't have to thank me, princess." He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Your sister said you were a grumpy jerk." I let out a small gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. Jackson throws back his head and laughs. The sound is husky and rich. It does something to me that I can't explain. So I'm going to do like the song says and blame it on the alcohol.

"I can't deny that. I have my moments. I'm not one to pussyfoot around when others do." He shrugs.

"Pussyfoot?" Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I'm sure once again Jackson notices I'm blushing. The man notices everything. I wonder if that's from his days in the service.

"Fucking around. Beating around the bush," he supplies. "I want people to get to the point."

"Right." I shift on my feet. "I might annoy you. I can ramble. It annoys my—" I cut myself off, not wanting to talk about my parents.

"I think you'll be the exception to the rule, princess."

Warmth settles inside of me. I love the way he calls me princess. It's different than when my mother says it. Hers has more of a brat connotation to it.

I'm finding that Jackson actually makes me feel like one.