Mine Would Be You (32)

It’s stunning.

It’s three floors. There’s the ground floor with the garage but then there’s a white staircase that leads up to the front door and a wraparound porch. There are rocking chairs at the front and tall, white wooden beams to support the roof. It’s classic with modern touches. The entire house is painted a light seafoam green with lots of windows. From the front it’s easy to tell that the house backs up to the beach because I can hear the ocean waves.

“What exactly do you do again?” Harper and I say in unison, giving each other a wink as we lock arms and the boys start pulling out the bags. Sloan just stares at the house. We are way out of our league here.

“I’m on the board at a PR firm, but I also represent a few people of my own.” He taps the hat I’m wearing. One of the cities basketball teams.

“The team?”

“Not the whole team, just a player. A few fresh faces in other sports too.”

I’m shell-shocked in place. Harper has to physically push me to start moving again. And I can’t even come up with a snarky remark as I force myself to catch up to him. Jackson swings his keys around his finger with a very cheeky grin as we walk up the steps until he’s turning the key in the lock.

“¿Quién? No puedes ser tan rico. Eso es . . . esto es una locura. No es possible.” Who? You can’t be that rich. This is crazy. It’s not possible.

He stops in front of the open door, and I can hear Harper laughing behind me.

“Listen, I love this, you know I do. I want you to speak Spanish to me at all times, whenever you want, and I’ll do my best to learn to keep up.” I blush instantly as he looks at me with blue eyes worthy of drowning in. “But I need you to breathe.”

Well, if he wanted me breathing, that wasn’t the way to do it.

He chuckles softly and presses a hand on my lower back, ushering me into the house, Harper, Sloan, and Roman following behind us. The bags are dropped at the staircase, and I’ve finally taken in enough deep breaths to focus again.

Jackson’s hand is still on my back, and I’m so hyper aware of the touch it’s almost all I can think about.

The kitchen looks over the back of the house and wraparound porch, which means we have a perfect view onto the sand. It’s got clean white cabinets and dark granite countertops with stainless steel appliances. The island is big enough for at least six people to eat at, and the entire wall behind the countertops is filled with windows. To the left it opens into a formal dining room, but to the right it opens into a cute breakfast nook with French doors onto the porch.

“Are Myles and Em coming?” Roman asks.

Jackson shakes his head as he uncorks a bottle of white wine. “No, they never confirmed, so it’s just us for now. A few more guys we know from work are coming tomorrow for the day,” he responds, directing that towards us.

I’m fine with more people coming. I don’t really care who comes as long as it’s not Myles.

“All righty, well then how about pizza for us?” We all nod. “Toppings?”

“Pepperoni,” Harper says, while I say “Mushroom,” and Sloan says “Anything.”

“Do a Sicilian, half and half,” Jackson says and hands Roman the menu for a place nearby. He pours us all a glass and slides them over before looking at Harper, Sloan, and me.

“All right, room tour. Let’s go, ladies,” he says and pushes us towards the stairs, leaving Roman in the kitchen. “You got that Roman?”

“Yeah, I think I know how to order pizza,” he calls, drawing a laugh out of us.

Jackson hands me his wine glass as he somehow picks up all of the bags. I watch his arms flex under the weight, but if it affects him, he doesn’t show it, so I enjoy the view.

He stops at the room at the top of the stairs first and drops Roman’s and Harper’s bags, “Harper, if you want your own room, I can make that happen, but—”

She laughs but shakes her head, matching his grin. “I think we can hold down the fort in here together.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says, and she carries their bags inside the room. He leads Sloan and me down to the left. “You two are in here,” He pushes open the door and places our bags down right inside. The entire room is a pale, warm yellow.

He looks at me, bumping my shoulder. “You’re welcome in mine, but I figured I’d play it safe.”

I push him lightly on the chest. “A fool. You are a fool.”

“Only for you though.”

“You don’t quit, do you?”

“Nina, please. I never quit,” he says, sending chills down my spine at the way he says my name.

Just as I’m about to respond, Sloan interrupts, “All right, well, I’m going to get settled and let you two continue that somewhere else.” She smiles, entering the room and shuts me out.

I blink, stepping closer to Jackson, who just laughs. He pushes open the door to the master, I assume, as he drops his own bags and takes the wine back. His fingertips brush mine as he grabs the glass, and he stays by my side.

It’s beautiful. A pale blue with white accents and French doors that lead onto a small balcony. There is an adjoining bathroom and a decent-sized flat screen mounted on the wall across from the bed that’s off to my right.