Georgia smiled, her eyes getting misty. “That’s so true. She would have.”
“And the best way to honor her is to do what she would do.”
Pete cleared his throat. “That’s great, Jack.”
“I’m not promising to go along with just anything,” I said quickly, “and I don’t want anything to interfere with what I’m doing, but I’d be willing to discuss the possibilities of a restaurant, maybe look into buying the Oliver place. If that’s impossible, I’d consider finding space on our property to put up a tent or barn for weddings or whatever. But you guys will have to do the legwork. Convince me it won’t be horrible.”
Georgia squealed and jumped up, coming around the table to throw her arms around my neck. She kissed my cheek and squeezed so hard I nearly choked, but inside I felt good. Deep down, I didn’t think there was any way we could afford the Oliver place, and I still hated the idea of strangers trampling around my beloved farm, but something Margot had asked me last night stuck with me. Even if the changes make sense? If they’ll make people happy?
The truth was, it wouldn’t matter what changed or didn’t on the farm—I’d never be happy, not after everything that had happened. So if they could, then I shouldn’t hold them back. They didn’t need to suffer for my sins.
“I’ll call Brad,” Pete said. “Maybe he can send us some info on the Oliver listing.”
“I better get back to work. Thanks for the coffee.” Rising from the chair, I took my cup to the sink before heading out the back door.
A few seconds later, I heard Pete’s voice. “Hey, wait a sec.” He jogged to catch up with me. “Thanks, man. Georgia is beside herself.”
I shrugged, sticking my hands in my pockets. “I hope it works out.”
“So why the change of heart?” he asked, lifting his cap off and replacing it. “I’m curious.”
“I don’t know.”
“You get laid last night or what?”
I rolled my eyes, but my cock twitched. “Jesus, Pete.”
“OK, OK. Just asking.” He held up his palms. “You seem different today, that’s all. More relaxed than you’ve been in a long time.”
“So quit bugging me before I get tense again,” I said, resuming my walk across the yard. Actually, I did feel more relaxed. A sense of relief and even peace had eased the tension in my mind and body. My steps were lighter. My shoulders looser. My fingers free of the urge to curl into fists.
Whether that was because of the sex I’d had or the conclusions I’d drawn or the apologies I’d offered, I wasn’t sure. I had yet to suffer any debilitating guilt about having sex with Margot, which shocked me—I’d actually felt worse after the kiss. It had seemed more personal, somehow. Fucking her in the woods felt more like blowing off steam than anything else.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
But the real relief would come in nine days, once Margot was gone for good.
Eighteen
Margot
I was on edge the next morning. Too much coffee had me jittery, too little sleep had me restless, and too much time thinking about Jack had me unsettled. I didn’t feel right in my skin.
I spent the morning trying to catch up on work for other clients, but I struggled to focus. The tenderness between my legs, the soreness in my stomach muscles, the memory of my legs wrapped around his waist distracted me endlessly.
Stop it! It never happened!
After lunch, I took a walk on the beach, hoping a little exercise and Vitamin D might help.
It didn’t.
I tried to take a nap, which was a disaster since what I actually did was lie there and picture every inch of Jack’s naked body (good thing I’d gotten that view from the tree), and replay in my mind every second of The Fuck That Never Happened.
Irritated, I sat up and grabbed my phone. I felt like talking about it to someone, but I hesitated before calling Jaime for two reasons—one, I’d told her I wouldn’t bang the client, and two, I was supposed to be pretending I hadn’t. Telling her about it was not a step in that direction.
I could always call Claire instead, I thought. I’d have to start from the beginning since she didn’t know anything about Jack yet, but—
My phone buzzed in my hand. Mom calling.