Chapter 8
EIGHT
Jackson
I’ve been in plenty of tense situations in my life. Combat zones, high-risk operations, hostage rescues, but somehow sitting through this rehearsal dinner without dragging Fern out of here is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I stand in the shadows, my eyes following my girl as she makes her way around the long table in the private dining room of The Rosewood. It’s impossible not to.
Fern moves between tables with her clipboard tucked against her chest, blonde hair falling around her shoulders as she checks details with the staff and answers questions from guests.
She’s beautiful. Not the polished, fake beauty the rest of her family seems obsessed with.
Fern is real. She’s all soft curves, warm smiles, and bright blue eyes that light up when she laughs.
Every time she talks about something she loves, she gets this spark in her expression that makes it impossible to look anywhere else.
I imagine her walking down an aisle toward me. The thought hits me so hard that I almost laugh out loud.
Jesus. We met a week ago.
Is it too soon to think about marrying someone?
Probably.
Do I care?
Not even a little.
I’ve spent my entire adult life knowing exactly what I want and going after it. And I want Fern.
“Jackson.”
I blink and look up.
Cal stands near my chair, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face. “You’ve been staring at her for ten straight minutes.”
“I have not.”
He snorts. “You look like you’re planning a kidnapping.”
I glance back at Fern. She’s helping one of the servers adjust a centerpiece while Valerie complains about something beside her.
“If I were kidnapping her,” I mutter, “she’d be halfway to Oregon already.”
Cal laughs quietly.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Checking in with you. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, too long,” I say as he pulls me in for a hug.
He pats my back and stands against the wall next to me. “Your girl—”
“Fern.”
He nods. “You’re serious about her, huh?”
“Yeah. Deadly.”
His expression softens slightly. “Oregon, you said?”
“Yeah, she lives in some little town there. Wolf Valley.”
He grins. “No shit.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Yeah. You remember Koa and Ledger? They were with us on that last deployment,” he says.
“Yeah, I remember them.”
“Well, they just moved to Wolf Valley. Or they’re splitting their time there anyway. Both of their girls live there.”
“Small world,” I grunt.
“Well, you have two friends in town. Might be the perfect place to start over.”
“It will be.”
He claps me on the back again. “I was going to ask you to grab a beer after this, but I think you have other plans. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
He hugs me goodbye before he heads out. My eyes go back to the rehearsal.
I scan the crowd until I spot Fern. Fuck, she looks good. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off her for the rehearsal dinner.
The rehearsal wraps up, and everyone goes back to the hotel and toward the dining room, where dinner is set up. I follow behind the wedding party and take a spot inside the doors.
Fern enters and smiles as she greets the staff. I watch as she talks quietly with the hotel coordinator. Everyone is taking their seats, and when I look back at the tables, my jaw clenches so hard that I think I might crack a tooth.
Fern doesn’t even have a seat.
These fucking assholes. How can they treat my girl like this?
I glare around the crowd, wishing that I could whisk Fern away from all of these shitty, selfish people.
Valerie and Paul sit at the head of the table like royalty while everyone else falls into conversation around them. Family members laugh as they drink wine and make small talk, not appreciating any of the effort Fern has put into arranging all this.
I watch as Fern ends her conversation with the hotel coordinator and approaches the table.
“Does anyone need anything before dinner starts?” she asks politely.
Silence.
Then Valerie waves her hand dismissively. “No, just make sure the timeline stays on schedule tomorrow.”
“I will,” Fern says. “I was thinking that if we move the first dance slightly later—”
Paul cuts her off without even looking at her. “Stick to the schedule,” he barks.
I’m already moving before I can think twice about it, my hands curling into fists as I stalk toward the head of the table.
Fern glances at me, and her eyes widen at the murderous look on my face.
She shakes her head at me, asking me to back down.
I slow, veering off to lean against the wall closer to her.
“If we want sunset photos, we’ll need to step outside around—”
A woman, one of the aunts, I think, talks over her. “Did anyone else try the bread?”
Fern stops mid-sentence. No one notices. No one listens.
I stare at the table.
How the hell are these people related to her? Because the woman standing ten feet away from them is the smartest, kindest person in this room, and they treat her like background noise.
My chest burns with anger.
Across the table, an older relative tells a loud story about golf. Fern quietly moves toward the wall. No one thanks her. No one acknowledges her.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, but instead of checking messages, I open a browser and type five words.
Houses in Wolf Valley, Oregon.
Listings pop up immediately. Small houses, cabins, and a few properties outside town with land. I scroll through them slowly.
Fern mentioned an apartment above a bakery. She said the town was small and friendly, and that everyone knew each other. It sounds perfect. If she’s there, it’ll be home.
The rest of the dinner is painful. I have to stop myself from beating the shit out of a few people, but each time I look at Fern, she shakes her head at me, looking less and less happy. I fucking hate it.
After another hour, it’s over, and I relax as I stalk Fern around the edge of the room. She stops and says a few words to the hotel manager, laughing at what she says. Then she thanks the staff and picks up her clipboard.
Finally.
Fern steps into the hallway outside the dining room.
I catch up with her easily. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she says with a tired smile. “Are you off the clock now too?”
“Yep, I’m all yours now.”
Her real smile appears instantly, making my chest feel lighter.
“You survived dinner,” I say.
She laughs softly. “Barely.”
“You didn’t sit down once.”
“I’m working.”
“You should’ve eaten.”
“I grabbed a roll.”
I shake my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
She tilts her head. “Is that a compliment?”
“Absolutely.”
The elevator doors open, and we step inside. The ride up is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Just… charged.
When the doors slide open onto our floor, Fern steps into the hallway. I follow. She glances over her shoulder as we stop outside her room. I watch as she digs her keycard out of her purse.
“Well,” she says softly, “goodnight, Jackson.”
She opens the door and steps inside, but before she can close it, I follow her in. The door shuts behind us.
She turns quickly. “Jackson—”
I don’t give her time to finish the sentence. I grab her face gently and kiss her. Her soft gasp melts against my mouth. For half a second, she freezes. Then her hands slide into my hair, and she kisses me back.
Hard.
Like she’s been wanting this as much as I have.
Relief floods through me as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her against my chest. She fits perfectly there, like she always belonged.
When we finally break apart, Fern’s cheeks are flushed, and her blue eyes are wide.
“You’re staying here tonight?” she asks breathlessly.
I brush my thumb across her jaw. “Yeah. Is that okay?”
“Uh-huh,” she says distractedly, her hands already tugging at my shirt.
Then she kisses me again, and this time…
Neither of us holds back.