“Shit, I miss you more than you could know. If you change your flight plans, let me know. I’ll pick you up from the airport, and we’ll talk it all out, okay?” I want to demand her time and attention, but that won’t work. I know it and she knows it.
“I’d like that. I guess it’s time to start my morning. If I wait much longer, I’ll be paying homage to the porcelain throne. I’ll talk to you later?” Sailor asks. I hear the ruffling of the sheets, more reminders of the time we’ve spent together in my bed and hers. I’m more than ready to get us back to that place.
“You know it. I’m just wonderin’ how many shirts of mine you packed and if I’ll ever get them back.” Now there’s a rustle of food, the noise of carbonation, and her deep sultry laugh.
“I guess you’ll have to find out when I come home.”
“Love the sound of that. Later, baby doll,” I tell her, feeling like we’re getting somewhere.
“See you soon, Jackson.” And just like that, I know I’ve got shit to do and reinforcements to call in. My woman is coming home soon.
CHAPTER 21
SAILOR
ONE WEEK LATER
True to his word, Jackson was there to pick me up from the airport. The sucky part was that my luggage wouldn’t fit on his bike, so he was in his old beat-up truck, which wasn’t bad either, but it’s still not the same as being on the back of your man’s bike, arms wrapped around him, or feeling his hand on your leg when you’re stopped at an intersection. We also talked, in depth, about everything and anything. Jackson apologized to me. I did the same because while yes, he walked away, I held a mean-as-hell grudge and maybe, just maybe, held on to my anger a little too long. This conclusion came after my mother saw me miserable, sitting on the front porch swing and crying my eyes out because I missed Jackson so much. That’s when she gave me some tough love, which was so needed.
There we were, at a park in the dead of night thanks to my late flight, which worked well in my favor when Jackson put me on a swing then stood in front of me, slowly pushing me back and forth while we poured our hearts out. That didn’t mean it was back to our usual sex escapades right away. He took me home, gave me a soft, sweet kiss with all the passion we could muster without ripping our clothes off, and left to sit by the door. I so desperately wanted to invite him inside, even if it meant Jackson holding me while we slept. The chickenshit in me came out, and so, for the past week since I’ve been home, I haven’t been able to man up to tell him I’m ready.
I unlock my apartment door. The sound of tools greets me. The apartment manager shouldn’t be in here when I didn’t put a work order in. The only other two people who have keys to my place are Jackson and Lavender, and she’s at home with Hawk. How do I know that? Well, she called me on my way home from work, so that only leaves one person.
“Jackson, is that you?” I drop my purse on the countertop, making my way further inside my apartment. He doesn’t respond, the noise staying consistent from that of a power tool.
“Hey,” I say, walking down the hallway. The spare room light is on. It sits empty now, well, except for the bassinet that somehow managed to get here without any damage, a miracle in itself. The door is open, and Jackson is hunched over, working on putting together a dresser. I look at the rest of the furniture all put together. It’s everything I’ve been looking at, all neutral in color so it would work for both boy or girl. The rocking chair is in the corner, a crib is still in its box, and it looks like he just started working on it.
“Shit, you’re home early,” Jackson mutters after he realizes I’m leaning against the doorjamb. I take him in. He left the shop earlier than I did today, kissing my lips before saying he had shit to do and that he’d see me later.
“Well, not really. It’s after six.” He stands up to his full height. That’s when I notice Jackson must have stopped at the club because he’s in a clean shirt, jeans, and boots. His cut is lying on top of the rocking chair, and he’s prowling towards me, my heart in my throat because how could he do all of this? I mean, he bought everything, took the time to start putting it together, and he’s here. God, he’s here. That means everything.