Ready or Not (The Ready Series Book 4)

“What’s good?” Jackson asked.

Everyone hopped out of the car, and we began our journey.

“Pretty much everything. There’s an awesome Thai place a block or so that way.” I pointed down the street. “Oh, and there’s a killer Mexican place right there,” I said, motioning to the brightly painted sign.

Noah squinted his eyes and frowned. Jackson didn’t look too excited either.

“Sushi?” I asked.

Their faces fell further.

I was beginning to guess my Charleston neighbors were not the adventurous eaters.

“Um…pizza?” I suggested.

Their eyes instantly lit up, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, pizza it is!” I announced.

We headed to the right in search of pizza. The place I selected was well known, a Richmond tradition for years, and had some of the best pizza in the area. I hoped my guys wouldn’t be disappointed.

Once we were seated, a hush fell across the table as everyone’s attention fell to the menu.

I peeked up over the top of mine and stole a glance at Jackson. His eyebrow rose, and a small smirk appeared at the corner of his lip.

“Stop staring at me,” he whispered.

“What are you ordering?”

“A cheese pizza.”

I snorted and shook my head.

“What?” he asked.

“I just would never have believed the super fancy lawyer ate like a five-year-old.”

“I do not. I just enjoy basic food.”

“You mean, boring food?” I quipped.

“As opposed to whatever the hell—heck,” he amended, looking quickly over at Noah, who was still buried in his menu, “you eat. What was it you suggested? Thai food?”

I nodded. “Just you wait, Jackson. I’m going to get you to love Thai food.”

“Not in this lifetime, sweetheart.”

Whenever he said sweetheart, his accent would grow thicker, and my panties would simultaneously grow wet.

Smug bastard.

The waitress came by to take our orders, faltering when her eyes stumbled on Jackson. She quickly righted herself when she saw me. She must have assumed Noah, Jackson and me made a happy little family. I didn’t bother correcting her. She could keep her eyes to herself.

She needed to learn to be professional. That was the only reason I wanted her to stop eye-fucking Jackson, and damn it, I was sticking to that lie.

Both men ordered a slice of cheese pizza, and I managed to keep my snicker to a minimum.

“And for you, ma’am?” Miss Perky asked.

“I’ll have the veggie calzone,” I answered.

The waitress finished up and walked away. I couldn’t help but look up to see if Jackson was watching her very obvious saunter into the kitchen.

His eyes were trained on me, and it gave me chills.

“So, you don’t eat meat? Like, ever?” Noah asked, breaking our connection.

“Um…what? Oh no. I haven’t for years.”

“Why? That’s kind of weird,” he said.

I laughed. I loved the raw honesty of a child. While most adults kept their opinions to themselves, only to voice them when in the restroom or after leaving for the evening, kids would be upfront—no pettiness, no games. It was refreshing.

“I guess I just don’t like it,” I answered.

“Not even steak? My dad makes the best steak.”

“I bet he does, but no, especially not steak.”

“Someday,” Jackson said, “I’ll get you to eat one of my steaks, and when I feed it to you, it will be the best damn meal of your life.”

His voice deepened, and I wondered if the offer came with the option to lick his fingers clean as well.

“Better than Thai?” I asked, trying to keep my brain out of the deep gutter I’d created.

“Way better than Thai.” His lopsided grin nearly had me but I refused to be charmed.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I mocked his pet name from earlier, “never going to happen.”

Our food arrived just then, and the conversation quickly died to a minimum as food became the main focus. I did manage to get Noah to talk about school a bit.

“Are you excited?” I asked between bites.

“I guess.” He shrugged.

“That’s about all I can get out of him, too,” Jackson said.

He had already managed to polish off his extra-large slice of pizza while I was still only three bites into mine.

I gave Jackson a wink. He’s just playing it cool, I mouthed.

We finished up lunch, and being the Southern gentleman he was, Jackson insisted on paying.

“Are you sure? I can pay for my part,” I said.

He stole the check out of my hand right after the waitress had placed it on the table.

“I asked you to join us, so it’s my treat,” he pressed.

“Okay,” I relented. “Thank you.”

His eyes met mine once more, and he gave a brief nod.

“Where are we off to next, tour guide?”

“If our next stop doesn’t amaze you, I don’t know what will.”

Jackson

Liv pulled the car into the parking spot and cut the engine.

“Is this what I think it is?” I asked.