“BYOB? Oh no. A paid bar,” I say, jotting it down. “What about hiring someone to play piano?”
Jackson’s brows tug together in obvious distaste as he sighs. “Emmie, listen, I understand that you want this to be something fancy, and that’s what your family has always done. I get it. I do, I really do. But I also need you to understand that my family parties… aren’t like that. We’ve got to meet somewhere in the middle,” he says, parroting back my earlier words. “No piano, but what about a band? Something festive and fun and not so… cold? No offense.”
I try not to take offense at that as I scribble it down. “Okay, we can decide on which band later, but the rest sounds okay. For an overall theme, what about… a winter wonderland? We can dress that theme up or down?”
He nods. “Don’t really care about the decorations, Snowflake.”
Thank God. I can’t imagine fighting with him over the color of the decorations.
“Okay, well, I was thinking maybe some real fir garland here? And a few candles on each table to set the tone. Even just a few pieces here and there can make it look classy and elegant. Could you, uh… measure the wall right there?”
He nods, then disappears through the door leading to the back of Town Hall, returning a few moments later with a rickety ladder that’s missing the bottom rung.
“Uh, are you sure you should be climbing on that? It looks like it’s going to fall apart the moment you step foot on it.” He shoots me a look that says he’s got it covered, so I raise my hands in surrender and go back to writing in my notebook.
I feel slightly better now that we’ve gotten some of the major things nailed down, and much easier than I anticipated. But there’s still so much to do and so little time.
“Jackson, I—” Just as I call his name, he looks back at me, and the metal of the decrepit ladder groans under his weight, then gives out, sending him barreling backward. I run over like I’m going to be able to… I don’t know, catch him or something, but he hits the ground before I can even close the distance between us.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groans, sprawled on his back on the floor.
Rushing over, I throw my notebook and pen down onto the floor and drop to my knees by his head. “Oh my God. Are you okay? Are your legs broken? Can you wiggle your toes? Shit, I was just joking when I said I wanted to run you over with my car. I didn’t actually want anything to happen to yo—”
“Emmie?” he says, low and rough, his eyes squeezed shut in pain.
I’m seriously worried he’s broken something or he’s going to have a concussion or something. As angry as he does make me, I definitely do not want anything to happen to him.
“Yes?” I say, leaning over him, running my hands over his torso to check for any bones or blood. We’re so close I can feel his breath against my lips.
“I’m good, and as much as I’m glad that you didn’t actually want me to die, can you let me up?”
Oh.
Ohhh.
“Yes. Of course, sorry!” I say, scrambling to my feet and extending my hand to him, which he bypasses and lifts himself off his back in one swift motion. For someone who just fell off a ladder and landed flat on his back, he sure recovered quickly.
He must read my expression because he chuckles, rolling his neck on his shoulders. “Not the first time I’ve fallen off a ladder. Won’t be the last. Flattered that you’re worried about me though.”
“I… I was not worried. I was simply… protecting my asset. Because you know if you’re dead, then this party can’t happen, and I do not ever want to spend another night in that jail cell ever again.”
“Sure,” he hums, bending down to pick up his measuring tape, which fell in his scuffle. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep better at night, Snowflake.”
Snowflake. The new stupid nickname that definitely does not cause any kind of weird flurries in my stomach.
Absolutely not.
I’ve still got adrenaline pumping through my veins from nearly seeing death right in front of my eyes.
“Okay, well, moving right along. We’ve gotten most of the major points nailed down, but we’ll need to discuss the smaller details more in depth. Unfortunately, I think we’re going to have to make a trip to the city to get some of the things we need on such a short timeline.”
That stops him in his tracks. “And when do you suppose that will happen? I have a big job that I’m trying to close.”
I pull my calendar out of my bag and check the dates quickly. “I’m free this weekend? My clients had a last-minute trip scheduled, so it left me open.”
Thankfully, most of my upcoming design jobs don’t start until the New Year, so my schedule has more wiggle room than it normally would. Interior designer perks. Especially since I no longer offer holiday decorating for my clients so that I can do my own. Plus, now I have this party to handle.
Jackson pulls his phone out of his front pocket and swipes across the screen before dragging his gaze back to mine. “I can leave Friday afternoon, maybe around two.”
Nodding, I jot the date down in my calendar with the right color-coded pen, ignoring the taunting smirk on his lips as I do. For someone who runs his own business, he seems sincerely opposed to any type of organization. “Sounds good to me. I can pick you up at your house at two?”
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “You can meet me at my house, but we’re taking my truck.”
“What? Absolutely not. My car is brand-new, and the heating is top-notch.”
“And?” he asks, pocketing his phone. “Weather says there’s a chance of heavy snow this weekend. It’s nothing we haven’t been through before, but my truck’s equipped with tires for it, so it’ll be safer if we take mine.”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m pretty sure you’d argue with me no matter what it was we were figuring out. My car has top-of-the-line safety features and is more than equipped to handle the snow. If it’s some kind of masculinity thing that you’re trying to prove, you know it won’t kill you to let a woman drive you around.”
This time, he laughs, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking stubborn, you know that?”
“And you’re not? I’m pretty sure you’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”
“Look, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you Friday. My house. Two o’clock.” He starts toward the door, and I call out, stopping him.
“At least take care of the hotel, okay? It’ll be one less thing for me to worry about. And two rooms, please.”
“Will do, Snowflake.”
This is undoubtedly going to be the longest three weeks of my life.
jackson
Snowed in with Satan. **Santa
Friday rolled around quicker than I anticipated with how busy I’ve been trying to finish this project up before the holidays. I spent most of the week at my new build, avoiding my family like the plague.
Don’t get me wrong, my brothers are my best friends, and my parents and I are unusually close-knit. And Josie… Well, she’s just Josie. My ball of chaos baby sister.