Chapter 15

15

HARPER

L unch is sandwiches Jackson lovingly prepared in the RV kitchen. The bread is a soft flaky croissant with thick-cut deli meat, specialty cheese, and some spicy spread that shouldn't work but weirdly does. Maybe I should trick him into making my meals for me so I don’t have to spend a fortune on a private chef. He’d probably do it if I only asked. Which is a power I have to carefully wield.

Honey tires herself by early evening, deciding to sleep on the sofa inside the RV that Jackson covered with towels just for her. Spoiled girl. Jackson and I put the tent up before it gets dark, miraculously getting through the process without arguing. It must be a good sign, considering I’ve always heard these types of tasks send couples into loud screaming matches. But I also just can’t picture Jackson ever yelling at me. I’m sure we’ll disagree like adults; maybe I’ll stomp my feet, maybe I’ll try to push him away, but at the end of the day, we love each other, so screaming doesn’t seem conducive.

Captivated by the sight of Jackson’s muscles moving under his shirt, I almost miss the screen of my phone lighting up to indicate Andy’s call.

“Hello,” I say into the phone.

Jackson turns his head to look at me. I mouth it’s Andy and he turns back around, comfortable that everything is fine.

“How’s camping?” Andy asks, a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Fun so far but we haven’t hit night yet.”

“Yes,” Andy drawls. “The monsters come out at night at the shore.”

“Exactly,” I quickly agree. “What if Jackson brought me out here to kill me.”

Andy snorts inelegantly. “If he was going to kill you, I think he would’ve done it a few months ago when you were being a little shit without the sex on the side.”

My lips quirk with a smirk. A loud snort from Honey breaks through the sound of the waves and the sizzle of the grill.

“How are you doing? What’s your Christmas plan?”

Andy hums thoughtfully. “Probably just spending it with Mom, Beau, and Trevor. Will you be dropping by?”

Usually, I spend Christmas morning with my parents, then drop by Andy’s family’s place in the afternoon. Not sure what I’ll be doing this year with Jackson now in the mix.

“Most likely,” I say, swinging my feet in the camper chair.

“Good. You’re doing good?”

“No more seizures, Mom,” I reply sarcastically.

Andy audibly sighs. “I didn’t mean it that way… I meant more… you’re happy?”

For the first time in my life, the answer is easy. “Blissfully.”

“Awwwww,” Andy croons, no doubt resting her hand over her heart and grinning. “My little one is in love.”

“If you don’t up shut.”

Andy chuckles. “I’m so happy. Remember when I fell in love with Ethan, and you gagged every time I said something nice about him.”

“I also hate the military-industrial complex, so it was a mix of that and your disgusting droning of how much you loved him.”

“Never change, Harper.”

“Don’t plan on it,” I quip.

“Speak of the devil. My man is calling me. Anyway, I love you! I’ll see you at Christmas, loser!”

Slipping the phone into the pocket of my jeans, I sidle up to Jackson, wrapping my arms around his thick waist. He carefully flips the chicken, sweetly patting my hands where they rest over his stomach.

“Good call?”

I tenderly kiss the bare skin of his neck. “Just Andy.”

“Making sure you’re still alive?”

My grin actually hurts my face, so I hide it in Jackson’s shoulder. “Definitely. I told her that you haven’t sacrificed me to the sea gods yet.”

“Still time,” Jackson promises.

The crisp ocean air blows in as we eat dinner spread out on a blanket atop the cold sand. Everything feels otherworldly on the lonely beach with Jackson. Like we’re in a world of our own, just us. Never in my life had I thought a wish of mine could come true, at least in a safe way. But with Jackson here with me, I know that my safety is beyond protected. No harm will come to me here.

“So?” Jackson asks with a mouthful of macaroni salad.

“Yes, you Neanderthal?”

“What’s the star rating so far?”

“Out of five stars?”

Jackson nods eagerly. “Yeah.”

“At least three.”

Jackson’s frown is deep. “How do I get it to a five?”

I wiggle my eyebrows and leer at him. “An hour in the tent will probably get us to five stars.”

Jackson sighs as if put out by the idea of fucking me, but I know the opposite is true. He’s been touching me all day, lingering, teasing touches to build the intensity for tonight. My man is a huge fan of foreplay, building it all throughout the day with gentle teasing. A kiss on the cheek that lingers a little too long. A slap on the rear that cups my ass cheek instead of skirting across it. A hug that leaves no room for Jesus. Jackson’s been playing me like a fiddle all day, so tonight will undoubtedly be beyond magical.

Instead of taking me into the tent to fuck me, Jackson starts a small fire. Once the warm flames are popping and casting out heat, he sets up camping chairs and pushes me down into one. I smile at him in a daze, only to grin wider when he hands me the makings for s’mores.

Jackson shoves two marshmallows onto a metal stick. “Can’t forget about your sweet tooth.”

“You are the perfect man,” I say dreamily.

Jackson practically beams with pride. “I know.”

Jackson carefully holds the marshmallows over the flame until they’re perfectly crisp. Whistling while he works, he puts the marshmallows between two graham crackers with a large piece of chocolate. He hands it to me without looking, then sets about making one for himself.

“Jackson.”

He turns his head towards me with a curious look. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” I say softly, meaning every word.

Jackson’s lips are soft against my own when he leans across the chairs to kiss me. He tastes like marshmallows. The stars come out as the sky darkens, and the fire tosses up light in front of us. Despite the loud waves, Honey’s soft snores filter out of the RV, making warmth pool inside my chest, something warm and alive.

“I have a really serious question,” Jackson says sometime later after licking his fingers clean.

“I have a very serious answer for you.”

Jackson rolls his eyes. “Okay, but if you had to choose between me and Liam Walsh… who are you picking?”

I pretend to think, making the most thoughtful face I can. Only a few seconds tick by before Jackson groans loudly. “I know you’d pick me.”

I wiggle my hand back and forth. “Maybe. The jury’s out.”

Jackson grumbles something I can’t hear. I bite back a smile at his grumpiness. The only thing that can ever make Jackson irritated or blue is the idea of me finding another man attractive. The idea of me being intimate with another man would probably send him into a catatonic state. Good thing he’s the only one I really have eyes for.

“Come on, Daddy, tent time.”

I climb into the tent without a backward glance, knowing that Jackson will follow. A small cutout with netting lines the top of the tent so we can perfectly see the stars. The sky is a dark blue now with bright stars flickering in the sky. We’re so far from the city that stars usually only visible when away from civilization are glowing to life. The atmosphere is dreamy and romantic, probably exactly what Jackson was going for with this trip.

I lie back on the air mattress, pleasantly surprised at its softness. Although I don’t know why I’m surprised considering Jackson bought the most expensive and best air mattress available on the market. Faux fur blankets line the bed, and despite the chill in the air outside, I feel warm inside the tent.

Jackson joins me a few moments later, hurriedly tugging off his shirt.

“Alright, I need to fuck you now or I’m going to die.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Romantic.”

“Please, my love, let me ravish you now before I die from not having you.”

Oh. I stare up at Jackson in wonder, watching hungrily as he shimmies out of his pants to reveal miles of leg. His body is perfect. Small tufts of hair on his thighs and legs, and just a tiny amount on his chest. The strong muscles are proof of how it’s so easy for him to manhandle me. Our bodies are so different, but together they feel so right.

He wastes no time unbuttoning my jeans, tugging them off of me in a hurry. The chilled air sends goose bumps popping along my skin. Once I’m naked, I shiver in the cool air, but it only lasts a moment before Jackson lies over me, instantly warming me with his own heat.

“Hi,” Jackson whispers from above me.

“Hello.”

“I can hear the waves.” Jackson lifts his head to look up at the stars. “And look at that view.”

“An amazing view,” I agree, but I’m not looking at the stars, I’m looking only at him.

Jackson lowers his body, his hard cock lined up perfectly with mine. I lift my legs up to wrap around his waist as he rolls his hips, fucking his cock against mine. The taste of Jackson lingers on my lips even as he pulls away to bury his face in the crook of my neck. His hand tangles in my hair, only coming loose once he’s removed my hair tie.

He pulls away to look down at me. “There you are. Fucking perfect.”

“Please be quiet,” I whisper, not needing flowery words tonight.

Jackson hums soft and low, rolling his hips hard against mine. My eyes roll back into my head as pleasure zips down my spine. His tongue licks down my neck, sending shockwaves of fire rolling through my body. When he bites down on the juncture of my neck and shoulder, a surprised gasp escapes my parted lips.

“Mhmm,” Jackson hums again. “I wanna mark you up. Leave bites all over you so everyone knows you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to keep safe. You’re mine, mine, mine .”

“Yours,” I vow.

Jackson presses open-mouthed kisses down my chest. He drags a sinful moan out of me when he eagerly swallows my cock down. He works me over slowly, lips spit-slick where they stretch over my cock. Everything goes molasses slow under his mouth. Being at the center of Jackson’s sole focus is often too much. The man knows how to play my body like an instrument, plucking every string until I come apart at the seams for him.

I thrust up into his mouth when his lubed finger presses into me, immediately searching out my prostate. My fingers slide over his shoulders, digging into his muscled shoulder blades to hang on for the ride. He curls his tongue around the tip of my cock, sending pleasure careening through me. If he doesn’t fuck me soon, I’ll come just like this, only by his mouth.

“Jack,” I whisper reverently, roughly squeezing the nape of his neck to spur him into action.

He pulls off my cock, eyes glazed, lips glazed with spit. A feral grin spreads across his face, just before he presses three fingers into me. My back arches off the bed and my toes curl into the furry blankets beneath me. I tangle my fingers in the blanket, desperately needing something to hang on to as he takes me apart.

I slide my hands down his shoulders, his ribs, landing them on his ass as he crawls up my body. Squeezing the perfect cheeks in my palms, I bring him down against my body until his hard cock slides against my own.

Leaning up, I whisper against his mouth, “Fuck me now, or don’t fuck me at all.”

“Demanding,” Jackson whispers back.

“Eager,” I correct him.

His grin sends a shiver down my spine. I wrap my arms around his neck when he presses into me. Jackson swallows down my gasp of pleasure, eating at my mouth like a man possessed. He carefully slips his arms underneath me, holding me to him as he bottoms out inside. Every time he fucks me is like the first time. I’m so full of him that all I can think about is Jackson. My entire existence narrows in on him.

He buries his face in my neck, breathing me in deeply like my scent drives him wild. My fingers claw at his back. I dig my nails into his skin when he roughly bites at my neck. Tomorrow, there will be a bite mark there, and I’ll love it. I will be undoubtedly heartbroken when it fades away, along with the proof of my belonging.

Jackson freezes inside me, cock pulsing like he was moments away from coming.

“Felt too good,” Jackson whispers against my sweat-slick skin. “Don’t want it to be over yet.”

“Okay,” I reply, out of words.

Jackson chuckles and flips us over so I’m straddling him. “You can do the work now. Put on a show for me.” Jackson slaps my ass hard, making it jiggle where it’s pressed flush against his groin. “Ride me, punk.”

Wiggling my hips, I set a slow pace, one that has Jackson holding on by just a thread. His perilous grip on his desire is easy to see from the sharpness of his eyes and the quick rise and fall of his chest that’s dotted with sweat. I firmly press my hands against his chest, grinning wickedly at the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm.

His eyes flash when I lean back, pressing my hands against his thighs. The angle is deep and the pleasure is so intense that I could almost weep. Jackson’s nostrils flare as his hands roughly grab my hips, holding me still so I’m forced to stop grinding.

“You’ve learned too many tricks.”

My turn to grin down at him. “Daddy taught me.”

“Jesus.”

He’s so easy. Jackson rolls us over again, but this time he shoves me onto all fours, and pistons his cock back inside me. I rest my head on my arms, just barely hanging on for the ride of my life. His lubed hand reaches for my cock, gripping tight, pumping at the same pace he sets with his cock. My orgasm sneaks up on me, violent and wild.

My fingers curl into the blanket, and only a barely audible gasp leaves my parted lips. But Jackson hears it because he’s so perfectly in tune with me. The feel of my cum on his hand turns him into a beast, using my body for his own pleasure until he comes inside me with a shout. I can feel him, inside me, everywhere, and it’s so perfect that I can’t help but smile in a delighted daze.

When he flips me over, his smile is just as wide. He grabs his T-shirt from the ground, using it to clean us both up, so we don’t fall asleep in the tent covered in cum. I can’t say I wouldn’t mind that, though, despite its stickiness and all-out grossness. Having that piece of Jackson lingering on my skin, without anyone else knowing, well, it would make me feel sort of caveman-like. I think Jackson would also appreciate it but I’m too chickenshit to ask.

Jackson throws himself on the bed beside me, tucking me under his arm and tiredly dragging one of the furry blankets over us. Loopy with my orgasm, I slowly raise my hand to point at the stars.

“They’re beautiful.”

Jackson hums in agreement. “I’ll love you as long as those stars blink in the sky. Infinite and forever.”

Sweet, but silly. “Stars are dying, just so you know.”

Jackson presses a kiss to my sweaty forehead. “My notion was extremely romantic, so please don’t ruin it.”

“How do you know?” I ask, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and serious.

Jackson’s fingers curl into my hair, happily playing with the strands. “That my notion was romantic?”

“No… that you’ll love me forever?”

“Because you’re mine, Harper. I will never let you go because you belong to me. Forever.”

The words shouldn’t be romantic, but they are. Belonging to someone is a faraway wish that I never thought I’d see come true. Then comes Jackson, pushing through every boundary I toss up, fighting every demon that tries to end us before we even really begin. I fall asleep satiated in his arms, satisfied with the knowledge that I belong to Jackson and no one else.

Two magical nights at the beach later, and I’ve never been more pissed off to return home. Jackson, on the other hand, seems just fine. Probably all the orgasms. I should be feeling the same way, but oddly, I feel restless. I wish we could’ve stayed at the beach forever, in our tiny hidden bubble.

But when we return home, I can no longer ignore the fervent pleas from my mother for us to come over for dinner.

The plus side is that she’s at least including Jackson.

Maybe after the whole imaging center event, she’s realized for the first time someone besides family is sticking around for me.

Jackson’s unloading the RV when I decide to drop the bomb on him.

“My parents would like us to go over for dinner tonight.”

Jackson pauses with my suitcase in his hand. “Oh?”

“We don’t have to,” I hurry to explain. “I can tell her no.”

“Do you want to go?” Jackson asks, returning to grabbing my suitcases.

I think it over as I follow him inside the house. Do I want to go to dinner with my parents? No. Should we? Yes. It’s a thin line. Maybe with Jackson there, my mother will behave better and be less antagonistic towards me.

“It’s hard to explain.”

Jackson’s eyebrows are adorably furrowed when he finally faces me. “So we don’t go.”

“No,” I say firmly. “We should go.”

“Okay… so we’re going.”

“Yes?”

Jackson snorts and gathers me into his arms, swaying us back and forth in the kitchen. He kisses me softly. The anxiety bubbling inside of me melts away under the gentle onslaught of his mouth until my mind is a quiet babbling brook once he pulls away.

“Better?” Jackson asks, fingers rubbing at the tender tense spots on my neck.

I moan in relief. “Yes.”

“Good. We’ll go to dinner, then we’ll watch that skateboarder you have saved on your TV later.”

I squawk in indignation. “How do you know about that?”

Jackson’s grin is devilish. “Should I grab a snapback and put on some Vans? Would that do it for you?”

Yes, but I absolutely will never admit that out loud. But Jackson knows just by my face because words aren’t necessary with him. His laughter presses into my mouth and I swallow it down, always eager for more.

By the time we stand hand in hand in front of my parents’ house, my anxiety is bubbling, instead of overflowing like usual. All thanks to Jackson. He squeezes my hand, thumb sweetly rubbing over my knuckles as I push through the front door.

The smell of lasagna and garlic bread filters through the house. My favorite. I lead Jackson through the house, finally coming to a stop in the kitchen. My dad stands at the oven, hand slowly stirring something on the stovetop. His grin is wide and familiar when he catches sight of me. My father is the most unassuming man ever, sweet and kind, and he was the one who kissed my bruises as a child. But he’s also wildly busy, time with him is rare, leaving me in the usually incapable hands of my mother now as an adult.

“Hey, kiddo. We made your favorite.”

I let go of Jackson’s hand to walk over and give Dad a squeeze. “Thanks, Dad. Where’s Mom?”

Dad’s nose wrinkles in irritation. “Work call. High-profile client got arrested. For the third time.”

“Will she be missing dinner?”

“No!” Mother shouts from the other room. I assume it’s part of the phone call until she peeks her head around the corner. “I’m not missing dinner.”

Damn. Dad narrows his eyes disapprovingly at me as if reading my thoughts. I shrug helplessly before returning to Jackson. We both take seats at the island, watching my father flit around the kitchen. Dad places a plate of fresh bruschetta on the table, gesturing towards it in a clear invitation for us to eat.

“Thanks, sir.”

Dad waves off the formal title. “Call me Billy.”

Jackson’s grin is blinding. “Will do.”

I grab a plate and fix Jackson a few bites of bruschetta, earning me a tender squeeze to my thigh under the cover of the island.

Dad takes the piping lasagna out of the oven, then comes to stand at the island with a glass of white wine in his hand. “So, Jackson, what do you do for a living?”

“I mess around with stocks,” Jackson explains carefully.

Dad raises one eyebrow. “You’re profitable?”

Jackson’s lips quirk up in one corner. “Very. I live a very comfortable life.”

Dad makes a sound of disbelief but still smiles at Jackson. “Good for you. Planning for retirement?”

“At the rate I’m going, I’ll be retired at forty.”

I have no idea what that means, but my father finds it absolutely marvelous. He leans forward on his elbows, eyes glistening with curiosity.

“Explain your methods to me.”

And then they talk about things that go right over my head for a full fifteen minutes. By the time my mother rounds the corner, I’m oddly thankful for her appearance. Dad straightens at the sight of her.

“Dinner’s ready,” Dad informs her.

Mom rubs at her temples but sends him a thankful smile. I stand from the chair, pressing a quick kiss to Jackson’s cheek when my parents are turned away, and help Dad plate the food. We all circle around the kitchen table to eat. My parents both have glasses of wine, but Jackson refused when offered, and it somehow made me love him even more.

“How was your camping trip?” Mom asks as she sips at her wine, ignoring her lasagna.

“It was good,” I reply around a mouthful of pasta.

“We went to the Atlantic Pines State Park.”

“Oh I haven’t been there in years,” Dad says aloud, tone wondrous. “Did you camp on the beach?”

Jackson grins widely. “Yes, for two nights. I had a fully stocked RV too, which we hid out in during one stray seaside shower.”

“Sounds lovely. Olivia, we should do that one day.”

Mom hums in thought, eyes firmly on me. “Have you had any more seizures since the last one?”

“Olivia,” Dad murmurs under his breath.

I carefully place my silverware back on the table, instantly irritated. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is because I care and I’m your mother,” Mom says, voice close to pleading. “You cut me out so much. I’m not tender and loving like my cousin but I love you and I just want to know what’s going on in your life.”

“No, you want to control it.”

She stares at me, mouth agape. “Harper, that’s not even remotely true.”

“Yes,” I say carefully, voice cold. “You think that if you can control my seizures, I’ll be normal. You’ll have a normal child.”

“Harp,” Dad says quietly, his hand landing heavily on my forearm.

I shake his hand off. “No. She always does this.”

“It’s because you’re both so similar,” Dad hisses, clearly at his breaking point. He turns worried eyes on Jackson, before letting his gaze return to me. “If you listened to the intention behind her words, you’d see how much she loves you but you’re both so pigheaded that you only see the worst in one another.”

Possible, although unlikely. Mom keeps her head downcast, a tear rolling down her cheek. She stands, hand trembling on the table, before quietly excusing herself. Suddenly, I don’t feel so much like I’ve won anymore. Dad stares worriedly after her.

I stand on shaky legs. Jackson looks towards me, his gaze offering support only if I need it. My smile is shaky, but he accepts it, not coming with me when I flee after my mother. I find her in her office, a crumpled tissue caught between her thin fingers. She takes one look at me and sniffles deeply, embarrassed that I’m seeing her fall apart. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my mother cry. She’s made of steel, always, which is another reason why she joins me for every medical appointment. Dad would cry and fall apart, whereas Mom is perpetually put together.

“I have never once wished you were normal , Harper. Because there is nothing abnormal about you. The best day of my life was the day they placed you in my arms and told me you were mine. I swear it.”

A rock forms in my throat, tears threatening to fall. “The way you show it is hard for me to understand. I’ve always thought…”

Mom scoffs loudly. “Just because you think something doesn’t make it true. Sure, I’m not the most nurturing woman on the planet, but I’ve always taken care of you the best I can. Given you whatever you need to succeed. When I ask about the seizures it’s because I’m terrified for you. Not because they anger me.”

“I don’t get it,” I say slowly. “We speak different languages.”

“I agree.”

“The way you show your love…” I trail off and take a deep breath as I stare her down. “I interpret it as being a burden. That you don’t want to be there for me, that I’m a bother.”

“I never meant?—”

“I know that now,” I interrupt her. “But it doesn’t mean I haven’t felt a certain way for most of my life. You can be short and sometimes cruel. I think maybe distance is better for us until you can finally accept I'm an adult and can take care of myself.”

She releases a loud breath. “You’ll always be my baby, though. I wish… I’m sorry I don’t show you love the way you need.”

“Yes, well.” I shrug with my hands out. “Jackson shows me.”

Her chin trembles as she stares at me. “Really?”

“Yes. When I let him.”

Her eyes sweep to the side as she carefully wipes her tears away to avoid messing up her makeup. “Jackson is lovely. He’s going to marry you.”

“Maybe.”

“Would you say yes if he asked?”

“Yes.” It’s the only possible answer.

Mom aims a watery smile at me. “Good, good. Do you let him take care of you?”

I grimace. “As much as I can.”

“Well, that gets better with time too. I’m sorry; I’ll try to be better. I hope, well, I hope you know that I love you even if I show it badly.” She crosses the few feet between us, and we hug awkwardly. I try not to cringe. Her smile is just as awkward and pained when she pulls away. “I guess we should get back out there. I fear what your father is instilling in that young man's mind.”

“I worry more about Jackson than Dad.”

When we return to the kitchen, Dad and Jackson are huddled together around my dad’s laptop. Jackson turns his keen gaze on me, lips lifting at the corner when I smile at him. When Jackson looks at me, I know without a doubt that I’m wanted, that I’m loved in a way that’s rare and beautiful. I take the seat beside him, leaning heavily against him when he wraps his strong arm around me.

“Alright?” Jackson whispers softly.

I turn my gaze to look up at him, smiling the smile only he’ll ever see. “Alright.”

Jackson beams and kisses my nose.

I’ll always be fine as long as I have Jackson.