Three （B） – Harrison
THREE (B)
HARRISON
Jackson
Let me know when you land. I sent my little sister to pick you up. She’ll meet you in baggage claim.
I step off the plane and head toward arrivals.
I wasn’t planning to stay more than a night in this state, but Jackson convinced me to stick around for at least four by claiming he owned the “biggest and best luxury estate in the South.”
If it’s bullshit, I won’t say a word.
But I’ll know .
I walk past a long line of people holding name placards—scanning for my name, but there’s nothing.
After a few moments, I double back and stop when I see a familiar face with fire-engine red hair.
Just like the last time I saw her, the woman who threw hot coffee at me in Manhattan is giving me a lethal stare from ten feet away.
There’s no name placard in her hand, and from the looks of things, she might work here...
“You have got to be kidding me,” she says, scowling. “Please tell me you didn’t fly all the way here just to harass me about your stained suit.”
“I barely remember meeting you,” I lie. “But I’m flattered to know that I’m still on your mind. What have you been thinking about me?”
“How much better the world would be if we could stitch your lips shut.”
“Want to hear what I think about your lips?”
“I’m surprised you even know what the word think means.”
That accent and sharp little drawl make me wish I could listen to her sass for hours.
“You have a very smart mouth, Miss Country Time,” I say.
“Six words no woman will ever say to you.” She narrows her eyes. “And that’s not my name.”
“Then tell me what is.” I grin. “Do you live here in Tennessee?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“There must be a reason we’re running into each other again,” I say. “I think it’s fate. I think?—”
“Please, please eliminate the word think from your vocabulary.” She gives me one last dagger-glare and brushes past me.
I let her walk.
For now.
After more wandering, I assume Jackson’s sister might be waiting outside for me, so I step through the exit doors.
There’s no one out here except idle Uber drivers, so I return inside.
Miss Country Time is still there, still glaring at me as if that does anything.
Except turn me on...
I stare at her for a few more seconds before pulling out my phone and calling Jackson.
“That was fast, man,” he answers. “How was your flight?”
“Good. Is your little sister still on the way?”
“No, she should already be there. She texted me thirty minutes ago.”
“Any idea what she’s wearing?”
“Jeans and a white T-shirt, but she has fire-engine red hair. You can’t miss her.”
I scan the crowd again. “I don’t see anybody that fits that description, Jackson.”
There are two redheads in pantsuits... and then there’s… her .
There’s no fucking way...
“Let me call you back and check.” Jackson hangs up to call her, and I watch as her phone lights up.
Her gaze snaps to mine, and her jaw drops.
“Yes,” she says, walking over, sounding stunned. “Yes, I’ve found him.”
Her eyes practically twitch with disbelief as she listens to whatever he’s saying to her.
“Fine. I’ll be very nice,” she mutters before hanging up.
“Good to hear that.” I extend a hand. “So, I guess this means we should start over?”
“I parked in the A lot.” She spins on her heel. “Follow me.”