Jackson by Melissa Foster

Author:Melissa Foster [Foster, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781941480205
Google: 2AWgCgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B015YLDHOU
Barnesnoble: B015YLDHOU
Publisher: EverAfter Romance
Published: 2015-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

***

JACKSON STEPPED INTO his jeans and slid his feet into his boots. He hadn’t heard Laney leave the tent, but it was her absence that had woken him. When he’d rolled over and reached for her, he’d discovered that the bag with their cooking supplies was gone, as was her backpack. Laney liked to camp, but she also liked to be clean. He groggily lumbered through the woods toward the lake, where he was sure he’d find her bathed, dressed in clean clothes, and probably sunning herself on the rock again.

Even though the sun was shining, the woods smelled moist, like it might rain. Leaves and sticks crackled under his heavy boots as he neared the edge of the woods. Laney sat on the blanket wrapped in a towel, her hair still bone dry. She turned slightly toward the sun, and Jackson’s stomach sank when he saw the engagement ring on her finger. She lifted her chin, admiring the damn thing and probably thinking about Bryce and what a great life they’d have together.

He shifted his eyes away, clenching his jaw tight and fisting his hands by his sides. He had no business being angry, or being bothered at all for that matter. He didn’t want to switch places with Bryce. He wasn’t interested in walking down the aisle. But he didn’t want her to, either.

Jackson closed his eyes for a moment to regain control of his emotions. Then he strode determinedly out of the woods, keeping his eyes trained on the water, and washed his hands in the lake, his back to Laney.

“You brought that thing with you?” He hated that he snapped, but at the moment he had about as much control over his emotions as a rabid dog. He probably should have gone back to the campsite, but he wasn’t a wimp. He could deal with this. He heard her scrambling behind him, and the snap of the jewelry box resounded like a cannon in his ears.

“You knew I had it in the car,” she snapped back. “What was I going to do? Leave it there to get stolen?”

“Leaving it at home would have been a good start,” he grumbled, feeling exactly like the jerk he knew he was acting like.

“Well, I didn’t, so…”

He heard her walk toward him and sensed the heat of her standing behind him. She pressed her hand to the small of his back, and he closed his eyes, telling himself to calm the fuck down.

“Why are you so grouchy this morning?” As she moved to his side, her hand slid along his hip, then hooked in the waistband of his jeans.

Because I’m fucked up about your proposal.

When he didn’t answer, she picked up a washcloth and dunked it in the water, then soaped it up and began washing her legs. She was good at letting him stew. Usually it was something he admired about her, but at that moment his thoughts were clawing to be heard. But they weren’t clear and present—they

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