Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Jackson woke to the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes. He rolled over in the bed, reached for Felicity, but unsurprisingly, he came up empty. The fairies weren’t the ones making the coffee.
With a groan, he rolled out of bed, pulled on his pajama pants and the fluffy robe, and then stuffed his feet into his slippers before he shuffled out into the cabin. The chill in the air had him pulling the robe tighter around him as he made his way into the kitchen.
Felicity was standing at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping a pancake. She glanced over at him and smiled. “Good morning.”
Her hair was mussed, and she had a rosy glow that made him want to tug her back into the bedroom. But the scent of the pancakes hit him and made his stomach growl with anticipation. The hunger won out, but that didn’t stop him from walking up behind her and dropping soft kisses on her neck.
Felicity shivered slightly, but he knew it wasn’t from the cold. He’d already learned that she loved it when he kissed her there. She let out a contented sigh, leaning back against him. But when his hand slipped between the folds of her robe, she said, “Nope. We have things to do today.”
Jackson let out a disappointed sigh and took a step back.
“Coffee’s made,” she said, pointing at the pot.
He poured himself a cup and then refilled hers.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. Waking up to fresh coffee and breakfast? There isn’t anything better than that.”
She snorted. “We both know that’s a lie, but there’s no time for another romp in the bed, so this is second best.”
He laughed and got the plates out of the cabinet. A few minutes later, they were both at the table eating the fluffiest pancakes that Jackson had ever tasted. “These are delicious. How do you get them so fluffy?”
“Thanks,” she said. “The secret is to beat the egg whites and then fold them into the batter. That and buttermilk. My grandmother taught me.”
He raised his coffee mug in a salute to Kitty Hill.
Felicity laughed and did the same.
Once breakfast was finished, Jackson waved her off. “I’ve got the dishes. Don’t you need to get cleaned up and open the store?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “But I’d rather stay here with you.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her in close.
His entire body came alive when her skin touched his, but all he did was lean in and give her a long lingering kiss.
He had the night off, and they had a road trip they needed to take as soon as Felicity finished restocking the Holiday Cheer at her store.
“Go on,” he whispered. “Tonight we’ll make up for what we missed this morning. ”
“Is that a promise?” she asked.
“You can count on it.” He kissed her cheek one more time before turning his attention to the dishes. He could hear her in the other room getting ready for work, and Jackson knew that this was what he wanted from now until forever.
He wanted to wake up and spend his mornings with Felicity.
He wanted to hear her getting ready for work.
Do the dishes after they’d eaten breakfast. Spend his entire day off running errands with her.
After years of dating women who always wanted to try to push him back into the corporate life, he’d finally found someone who accepted him on his own terms. He wasn’t interested in climbing the corporate ladder.
All he’d wanted to do was spend his nights cooking for the people at Sleighed and spend the rest of it hiking and skiing his favorite mountain.
But now, he also wanted warm nights by the fire with the gorgeous blonde who always kept him on his toes.
He wanted to wake up with her in his arms, eat her pancakes, and help her cut down trees that blocked her roads.
He wanted it all… with her. All he had to do was convince her that she wanted the same thing. But he wasn’t at all sure he could.
After he finished the dishes, Jackson walked into the bedroom to find Felicity dressed and ready to go.
She walked up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed him lightly.
He leaned into her, demanding more, and when her lips parted, he knew he’d won.
Burying his hands in her hair, he showed her exactly how much he wanted her.
How much he needed her, and only let go when her phone buzzed.
“Oops,” she said. “That’s Marilyn wondering where I am.” She grinned up at him. “If I told her I was getting ready to rip your robe off, do you think she’d care if I’m late?”
Jackson wanted nothing more than that, but they had more important things on their to-do list that day. “I’m sure she’d forgive you, but the longer we linger here, the later it’ll be when we get to Tahoe.”
She frowned. “Yeah, I know. I guess it’s time to be responsible.”
He gave her one last kiss and then watched her go.
Jackson headed for the shower and then spent the morning cleaning up the cabin until he heard the roar of a couple of vehicles outside.
When he peeked out the window, he spotted two white vans and the silver Escalade.
A couple of film crews spilled out of the vans.
Larry jumped out of the passenger seat of the Escalade, but the driver didn’t move.
Jackson could tell by the silhouette that the driver was none other than Trace Rhodes.
Wanting to keep an eye on the man, Jackson slipped out of the cabin and quietly took a seat in the corner of the porch. It wasn’t long before Trace pushed the door of the large SUV open and climbed out. The phone was still pressed to his ear as he started to pace.
Larry and the film crews had disappeared into the orchard, leaving just Trace and Jackson at the cabin, though Jackson was fairly sure that the other man hadn’t even noticed him. He hadn’t once looked his way, and he was talking loud enough that Jackson could hear almost every word.
“Listen, Vincent, I’m telling you that this is the next development opportunity. Did you get the pictures I sent? We can clear out the apple trees and plant a new vineyard.”
Jackson frowned. Wasn’t Vincent the name of Ernie’s business manager? Was Trace actually talking to Ernie’s nephew about Felicity’s property? He leaned forward, straining to hear the rest of the conversation.
“Or we can leave the orchard and start a hard cider business. There’s still plenty of acreage to plant grapes on the north side of the property. All we’d need to do is tear down that old store, add a tasting room and maybe a place for a four-star restaurant, and the money will be rolling in.”
Jackson’s blood started to boil. This jackass was definitely making plans for Apples and Spice and Everything Nice.
Little did he know that if he tried to do any of that, Jackson would find a way to take him down.
And if for some reason he failed, there was no way the fairies were going to tolerate him.
If Jackson thought Trace had even a chance of taking over the orchard, he’d almost feel sorry for the poor bastard.
Trace started to walk toward the orchard, and Jackson followed, keeping a fair distance back so that the other man wouldn’t notice him. But he was still close enough that he could hear Trace’s side of the conversation.
“I’m telling you, cuz, once the foreclosure goes through and you find a way to transfer the property from your uncle, we can finally start our own empire.
Along with the wine and cider, there are other opportunities, like adding more short-term rentals.
Maybe a bed and breakfast or an inn and spa.
There’s already one cabin that’s in pretty good shape.
We could add more and really ramp up the cash flow. ”
Cuz? Cousin? Was Trace related to Vincent? Jackson made a note in his phone to check for any connections.
They made their way into the orchard and found Larry and the film crew. Larry was busy directing the crew to take scenery shots, and when the snow started to fall again, he got really excited and started shouting commands, telling them to get shots of everything.
Trace was still on the phone, only now he was listing all the ways he planned to use his imminent windfall and was talking about clear-cutting part of the land.
Magic sprang up out of nowhere, nearly knocking Jackson off his feet. Intense anger wrapped around him, pressing against his psyche before it morphed into the physical form of a swarm of angry bees.
Jackson watched in awe as the bees swarmed through the lightly falling snow, heading straight toward Trace.
The man’s eyes went wide with fear just before he dropped his phone and took off at a dead run, heading straight for the film crew.
“Hey!” Larry shouted. “Trace, get the hell out of the shot. What are you doing?”
Trace screamed something about being allergic to bees as he grabbed one of the crew and held the man in front of him like some sort of shield. It made no difference, and the angry bees closed in, encircling them.
The crew member thrashed and threw Trace off, running for cover into a tent they’d set up to house their equipment. Trace was hot on his heels and barely managed to seal himself up in the tent before the bees caught up with him again.
Jackson studied the bees as they hovered near the tent, clearly waiting for their victim to reappear.
Trace screamed from inside the tent. “I need an EpiPen. Someone get my EpiPen!”
“I have one,” one of the crew said as he fished it out of his messenger bag. He eyed the mass of bees warily and then handed the pen to someone else to deliver to the tent.
The bees buzzed angrily, and Jackson was convinced that the fairies would magically hold them there indefinitely until they found their prey. But then the snow started to fall at a faster rate, and the bees had trouble staying afloat as the wet snow pelted their small bodies.
Finally, Jackson felt the magic disappear as the swarm of bees took off into the forest, no doubt looking for cover until they could safely make it back to their hives.
The fairies were gone, but the message was clear. If Trace managed to gain control of the land, they’d make his life a living hell every moment of every day. Jackson snickered to himself and started to head back toward the cabin.
But when he heard Larry start yelling, he stopped and turned to find the director in Trace’s face, his finger raised as he chewed him out for ruining the shots.
“Now the lighting is all off and we’ll have to reshoot.
All because you couldn’t keep out of the shot.
How long have you worked for me? You know that filming is sacred!
” Larry was screaming at him, his face getting redder by the second, and Jackson wondered if the man was on the verge of having a heart attack.
Trace had zero patience for the outburst though, and he met the director toe to toe. “I was being chased by bees, Larry. I could have died. Do you understand what that means, you self-important, egotistical jackass?!”
“How dare you speak to me that way. I could fire you on the spot,” Larry sneered.
“You think that scares me?” Trace shot back. “Well how about this?” Trace raised both his middle fingers and said, “I quit!”
Everyone stood silent as they watched Trace stalk through the snow back toward the cabin.
“Good riddance!” Larry called. “Good luck getting back to town. That Escalade is rented to the film production!”
“I’ll hitchhike if I have to,” Trace called back.
“You won’t work in this business again, you know that, right?” Larry shouted.
Trace ignored him, but Jackson heard him mumble something about starting his own business. Jackson hoped he wasn’t referring to the orchard, because there was no way he was letting that man get his hooks into Felicity’s land.
One way or another, Jackson would do whatever it took to make the foreclosure disappear, even if it meant paying the damned loan himself. He was too invested now. And no way was he letting the likes of Trace Rhodes take over any part of Christmas Grove.