“The country?”
A smile curls my lips. “No, Michigan.”
“Whoa, big spender,” Marshal says as he sits on the edge of my bed. “Did you fly or take the thirty-minute drive.”
As my computer is coming to life, I think back. “It was a spontaneous getaway. And it was tulip time.” I smile. “We stayed at this quaint bed-and-breakfast. Actually, we went there on multiple occasions. The couple who owns it is so nice. I think Jackson did some legal work for them.”
Marshal lies back on the mattress, his knees bent and feet still on the floor. I can’t help but notice the way his blue jeans fit, how as he lifts his hands over his head, his shirt rides up exposing that sexy V that some men have. Turning back to my computer, I remember what I said earlier, how all men would pale compared to Marshal.
It’s not only his monster cock that puts him in a league all by himself.
It’s him.
Maybe that’s been my problem with finding my forever and always.
I met mine at five years old and have been comparing everyone ever since. I don’t think it’s been a conscious thing, but as I imagine what he’s hiding under his blue jeans and my core clenches, I know the bar has been raised. Before it was Marshal’s friendship that was the standard measurement; now it’s so much more.
“Here it is,” I say, clicking onto Jackson’s email account.
Marshal is up and off the bed, his handsome face next to mine as he leans near my shoulder.
“It looks like him.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Boring.”
I start scrolling, reading each subject line. I have to agree it’s not enthralling reading. “What about folders?” I ask as I continue to navigate through Jackson’s private information.
There are hundreds.
Who has hundreds of folders?
“Shit,” Marshal says, “look at all of those.”
“And they’re all labeled with initials. It will take hours to go through them all.” I sigh and lean back. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
Marshal’s strong hands come to my shoulders. His long fingers squeeze and massage.
“Oh.” I roll my head on my neck. “That feels so good.”
“Don’t let him make you tense.”
I can’t see my best friend, but I feel him. It’s not only his hands on my shoulders and neck, but it’s also his calming presence. “I think in some way, Jackson always did that.”
Marshal’s hands come off my shoulders. “Well, then I won’t.”
“No, please don’t stop. It feels amazing.” Once again, Marshal is behind me, squeezing and massaging. “Yes...”
“What did he do?”
“No details, remember.”
“Honey, you’re not talking about sex. I know that.”
My head shakes as I close my eyes. “Made me tense. I didn’t see it as it was happening. Like that night you were talking about, at that bar. I’d spent the day with Mom looking at wedding dresses and I didn’t realize that the time for dinner had been changed. I hadn’t looked at my texts, so even though I thought I was on time, I wasn’t.”
Marshal didn’t say a word as his fingers continued their magic.