Chapter Nine

Jackson

“I like the pink one,” Finley informed me as we scrolled through backpacks online. “Ooh, and that blue one. And the green one.”

“Well, you only need one, so which one is your favorite?”

She scrunched her forehead, looking up at me and then back to the screen, seriously pondering her decision with an intensity that almost made me laugh.

“Take your time. Kindergarten is a big deal. I get that, and I firmly support whatever choice you make. You don’t even have to pick one tonight. It’s just orientation. We still have months before you start.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “The purple one.”

“You’re sure?”

“That’s the one. I know it.”

“Okay, because I’m buying it right now.” I clicked add to cart.

She nodded. “I’m ready.”

“I know you are.” Maybe she was, but I wasn’t. I faked it well, though. “Okay, all purchased.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” Finley plopped a kiss on my cheek and hopped off the couch, brushing her curls out of her face.

“They won’t get in the way if you let me pull it up,” I reminded her.

“Ponytails are boring,” she declared, skipping every age to thirteen.

A knock at the door saved her from my eye roll.

“We could stop by Grammy’s and ask Aunt Brie to braid it for you,” I suggested as Fin bolted toward the door.

“Nope. She has really long nails.”

“What?” That had exactly what to do with braiding?

“It’s Morgan!” Finley called out, jumping up and down to see out the glass side panel of the front door.

My heart rate kicked up, and I had the ridiculous urge to check myself in the mirror as I walked toward the door. Get a damn grip. But in my defense, I’d only seen her in passing over the last week, and this was the first time she’d ever knocked on my door.

“Can I?” Fin asked, her hands already on the knob.

“Yep. You can always let Morgan in.” Which now made six people on Finley’s always-allowed list: Brie, Sarah, Sawyer, Garrett, Vivian, and now Morgan.

“Yay!” She flung open the door. “I can always let you in!”

“Awesome!” Morgan held out her hand for a low-five. Fin gave it to her with a megawatt grin.

“Come in!” Finley backed up and held out her arm like a gracious pint-sized hostess.

“Why, thank you,” Morgan said, walking in.

She was in a white, thick-strapped tank top and short khaki shorts that reached midthigh, drawing my eyes to her legs. Not that I needed a reason, because my attention always found its way there with Morgan. She was also wearing the same maroon ball cap from the pictures. His ball cap.

Damn, I wished I hadn’t gone snooping.

“Did you come to see my daddy?” Finley asked, shutting the door behind her.

Morgan flashed me a small smile before turning back to Fin. “Nope, I actually came to see you.” She dropped down to Fin’s eye level.

“You did?” Fin brushed her hair out of her face.

“I did! I was walking the beach with Sam this morning, and I found this!” She opened her hand, revealing a small, perfect conch shell.

“Ooh! It’s so pretty!” Fin leaned in close, examining the shell.

“It’s yours,” Morgan said as she handed it over.

“Really? It’s almost perfect.”

Ah, and so the search continued.

“That’s exactly what I thought when I saw it!”

Fin grabbed Morgan’s still-outstretched hand and examined her fingernails. “Can you braid?”

Morgan blinked at the subject change, but then nodded. “I can.”

“Will you braid my hair?” Fin asked, using those eyes on Morgan to get her way. “I have kindergarten tonight.”

Oh shit. That tightness in my chest was back, flaring in a fierce surge of emotion I had no right to feel. Finley liked Morgan. She trusted her, which only made my attraction to her increase exponentially.

Morgan’s soft brown eyes found mine in silent question, and I gave her a slight nod.

“If you want me to, I can,” Morgan replied.

“Yay! I’ll get my stuff.” Clutching her new prize, Finley raced off to her room, leaving us standing in the entry hall.

“Thanks. She never lets me braid it. Mostly because every time I try, it comes out lopsided and not very braid-like,” I remarked, struggling for something to say that wouldn’t come out hey-I-really-like-you-any-chance-you-might-feel-the-same.

Because I wasn’t fourteen.

And the woman still doesn’t know what you do for a living, jackass.

“No problem. I’m happy to do it.”

I walked her into the kitchen and offered her a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” She braced her hands on the granite and boosted her ass into the same spot I’d put her when I’d patched her up weeks ago.

If Sam hadn’t walked in, I would have—

“So, kindergarten, huh?”

“It’s just orientation for next year, but it crept up on me, that’s for sure.”

“She’ll do great.”

Fuck me. She crossed her legs and shifted forward slightly, leaning on her palms. Maybe it was the months of celibacy, but my body took more than enough notice of her. Shit, when was the last time I got laid? Not since Morgan arrived, that was for sure. Not for lack of opportunity but because I didn’t want anyone else.

Holy shit. I don’t want anyone else.

So what the hell did that mean? Did I want a date with this woman? A night in her bed? An actual relationship? Yes to all.

She took a deep breath, causing her breasts to rise against her neckline, and I turned back to the refrigerator, popped the top of one of those antioxidant drinks Finley liked because they were pink, and chugged the whole thing.

“Thirsty?” Morgan teased.

You have no fucking idea.

“You could definitely say that.” I turned slowly, and from the way her eyes widened, I was doing a piss-poor job of keeping my thoughts off my face.

Only a few feet separated us. A heartbeat—maybe two—and I could be standing between her knees, her face in my hands, my tongue finally tasting the curve of her mouth.

As if she could read my thoughts, her lips parted, and the air crackled for all the potential electricity lingering between us.

“Got it!” Fin called out, skidding to a halt in front of Morgan with a tackle box full of hair-care products.

Morgan blinked rapidly and turned to Fin. “Okay! Let’s get you started!”

A few minutes later, Morgan had Fin on the floor in front of her as she sat on the love seat. She listened with rapt attention as Finley told her all about the great kindergarten backpack debate.

I watched from the couch, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do about wanting this woman. Hell, I hadn’t been on a second date since Claire. Hadn’t really been on a date at all.

“What if I get hungry?” Finley asked as Morgan sprayed product into her curls. It was the first time I’d heard her voice concern over going to school.

“There’s lunch time and snack time,” Morgan told her, brushing through Finley’s curls with ease. “And if you’re super hungry, just tell your teacher.”

“What if no one likes my backpack?” she asked quietly, and it took everything in my power not to answer her, because she hadn’t asked me.

“Then that’s their problem,” Morgan stated simply.

I blinked. My first impulse had been to say that everyone would love her backpack, but Morgan’s answer was way better.

Morgan threaded Fin’s curls through her fingers and wove a braid around her head.

What the hell kind of sorcery was that?

“What if they don’t like me?” Fin’s voice dropped even softer.

I leaned forward, and Morgan shot me a look that warned against speaking. My eyebrows lifted, but I stayed silent.

“Then they’re not the people you want to like you. And you already have one friend there, so you’re already starting ahead.” She flipped her hands and continued the braid up the other side of Fin’s head.

“Who?” Fin asked, sitting stiller than she ever did when I did her hair.

“Me. Just think, your first day of kindergarten will be my first as a teacher, so we’ll both be nervous. And I bet every other kid in your class has the same kind of worries you do. So if you smile big, you just might make them a little less nervous, too.”

“You’re a teacher?” Fin started to turn her head but thought better of it.

“I am. At least that’s what my college told me. I’ve never had a class of my own, though, so I guess we’ll see. I’ll be right down the hall from you in fifth grade.”

She finished the braid, winding an elastic over the end and tucking it into the start of the braid before sticking a few bobby pins through it.

“All done!”

Fin popped up and ran to the mirror, where her jaw dropped. “It’s a crown! I have a crown!” She flew back in, wrapping her arms around Morgan and smacking her cheek with a kiss. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Morgan’s eyes slid shut as she hugged Fin tightly.

Then Fin took off to put her hair stuff away, leaving us alone.

Morgan rose from the love seat.

“That was astonishing,” I told her as I stood. “How do you know how to do that?”

“YouTube.” Her smile was soft but real.

“She adores you.” Fin liked a lot of people, but that blatant look of affection she’d lavished on Morgan was usually reserved for me or Vivian.

“Well, the feeling is mutual. She’s phenomenal.” We locked eyes briefly before Morgan looked away.

“Thank you. You’re amazing. You know that, right?”

Pink tinged her cheeks. “Not really. If you knew the real me, I’m not sure you’d think that.”

“And what would change my mind?” I hoped she wasn’t alluding to the anxiety attack she’d gone through with the truck.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Fin exclaimed, arms up in victory as she twirled in the newest dress Vivian had bought for her. It was a step beneath a ballroom, but it wasn’t exactly classroom, either, and on her feet, she wore her favorite pair of black Vans.

“You look absolutely wonderful. I’m sure they’ll all remember you when it’s time to go back next year!” Morgan praised before I could question my daughter’s thought process.

Finley cocked her head at me, motioning to her dress. Her very sparkly dress.

“I love it.” I loved even more that she felt good about herself in it. If that was the confidence boost she needed, I’d fill her closet with fluffy dresses.

Morgan gave her a hug. “You guys have a great night, okay?”

“Walk us out?” I offered as Fin slipped on her jacket without the usual fight.

“Sure,” Morgan agreed, her hand finding Fin’s as we headed out the door.

By the time I locked up behind us, Morgan and Finley were down the steps, lost in some animated conversation that I wasn’t privy to, but I heard Fin mention Vivian.

Right. Next weekend was Vivian’s with Fin. Usually, I’d grab a drink with Sawyer and Garrett, but what if I didn’t? What if I spent the time with Morgan, instead? Would she even say yes? Shit, was I actually nervous about asking a woman out?

Absolutely.

I got Fin buckled in her car seat, then turned the Land Cruiser on so the air conditioning would circulate for my little redhead.

“Hey, Kitty,” I called out when I caught her walking away from me.

She turned, tucking her hands into her back pockets just outside our open garage door. “Jackson?”

There it was, that little uptick at the corner of her mouth, the one I couldn’t wait to trace with my tongue. God, if the woman said yes, I was going to have to wait an entire week to take her out.

“I hate that I have to work this weekend.” Wait, why the hell did I say that? I was rusty as shit when it came to someone I actually wanted.

“That seems fair.” She tilted her head to the side.

“Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant to say.”

She smiled, and it was real.

My brain emptied. She was beautiful in more than her body or her face—that was a given, and in my experience didn’t always carry any deeper. Morgan’s beauty skyrocketed with that sparkle I caught right now in her eyes, the hint of playfulness, the glimpse of another stunning facet of her I had yet to discover.

Because I hadn’t earned it yet.

But I would.

The timing was wrong. I wasn’t sure she was ready. I hadn’t been interested in more than a few hours with someone in over five years. She had a broken heart, and I had a kid whose heart I couldn’t risk. For God’s sake, I was standing outside my garage, which wasn’t exactly romantic.

But none of that mattered…or maybe it did, but I was going to give her every reason not to let them matter.

I was going to earn the right to see her smile and hear her laugh.

“Are you okay?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Just busy talking to myself. “So I have to work this weekend, which we’ve already covered. But I’m off next weekend.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“You feel up for seeing a little more of the island with me? You haven’t gotten out much.” Holy shit, Montgomery, did you just quasi-insult the woman?

“Oh. I’m not really one for bars anymore.” She rocked back on her heels.

“I was thinking more along the lines of nocturnal sightseeing.”

“Sightseeing?”

“Yes.”

“At night?”

“I believe that’s the meaning of nocturnal.”

She stared at me for a moment, her pause almost awkwardly long, but I waited. I had a feeling that was the key to Morgan, taking small steps and putting the choice in her corner. I’d never been a wait-for-anything kind of guy, but I’d so fucking learn if it meant having a shot with her.

“Okay,” she finally answered. “What time?”

I managed to not fist-pump. Barely. It was close.

“Nine on Saturday. Unless you’d rather grab dinner first? I know some great—”

“Nope, nine is great.”

Small steps, Montgomery.

“Okay, see you then.”

She nodded and damn-near ran back to her house in obvious retreat.

I blocked off Saturday evening on the calendar using my phone and grinned the whole way to the school. We got there thirteen minutes early.

Fin held her head extra high as we walked in through the front double doors. We turned left at the end of the short hall and passed a pair of classrooms, one that had the door propped open.

“Aunt Brie!” Finley dropped my hand and ran toward her aunt, who was seated behind her desk and a pile of papers.

“Hey, Finley!” Brie got out of her chair and gave Fin a hug.

“What are you doing here so late?” I asked, leaning against one of her students’ desks.

“Well, I’m grading papers, and I knew this little lady had orientation tonight, so I thought I’d wish her luck! Let’s get a picture!” She took her cell phone from the desk and snapped a picture of Fin.

“Do you like my dress?” Fin asked, spinning with a squeak against the linoleum floor.

“Very glamorous. And look at your hair!” she gushed. “If that’s not the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Morgan did it!”

“Did she?” Brie shot me a raised eyebrow. “Well, I love it! That Morgan sure is talented, isn’t she?”

“Yes! And she’s going out with Daddy next weekend!” Fin clapped.

Oh, shit.

“Fin, it’s not like a date-date,” I told her. We were going to have to discuss expectations. I didn’t need Fin’s heart set on something that wasn’t even on the table right now. “And how do you even know?”

She looked at me sheepishly. “My iPad told me.”

Right. She had access to the family calendar and got notifications—my bad. But— “When exactly did your iPad tell you?”

She pressed her lips in a little line.

“Fin?”

“When we left the house.”

“You snuck your iPad into the car? Where? How?” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Under my jacket.” She shrugged unapologetically.

“That’s why you didn’t argue about putting it on,” I mused, giving my daughter a point for pure mischievousness. “But I didn’t say you could bring it. Tech stays home.”

Her eyes darted from Brie’s to mine and back again. “You didn’t say I couldn’t bring it…”

“She has you there,” Brie acknowledged. “What do you say we walk you down to the kindergarten rooms?”

“Yes, please!” Finley bounced with excitement.

We walked out of Brie’s room and almost ran right into one of Fin’s friends from preschool, which meant Fin was already starting down the hall with Julie, no longer caring about an escort.

I glanced at the door that would be Morgan’s next year.

“She’s not just some tourist, you know,” Brie said softly, motioning toward the door. “If you start something with her and it ends badly, I’m the one stuck hearing about it at work, and more importantly, it will affect Fin.”

“Is that why you told Claire about Morgan?” I questioned as we passed bulletin boards full of artwork.

She gave me an indignant scoff. “I told my sister because she has a right to know that you’re putting yourself in a position to move on.”

“I moved on years ago.”

“Not emotionally, you didn’t. I know Claire is…Claire, but she’s still my sister, and I’m just looking out for her.”

“I like Morgan. I’m taking her out. I didn’t say that we were hopping a flight to Vegas. Fin, baby, wait up!” I called down the hall.

Fin paused outside the kindergarten doors.

“I just wish—”

I turned, halting us both. “You wish she was Claire. That’s your baggage. Not mine. Now I’m going to take my daughter into her orientation. The daughter who once again doesn’t have her mother here. I’ll see you later, Brie.” With a curt nod, I left her standing in the hall and headed for Fin.

I wasn’t the only single parent there, but I was the only single dad. The usual onslaught of complicated emotions didn’t hit me this time, though. Fin wasn’t looking around, sad that her own mother hadn’t come—that was my baggage, not hers. She was busy twirling in her dress and showing everyone her crown braid.

But then again, how could she miss someone she’d never really had?

…

“Oh, come on!” Sawyer begged as he spotted me the next night.

I pushed the bar through my final rep and set it back on the rack.

“Don’t give him shit about it,” Garrett muttered from the pull-up station.

We’d already flown a patrol, and we were doing what any man of logic would normally do at one a.m.—working out in the station gym to keep from falling asleep.

“Sorry, man, you’re on your own,” I told Sawyer as I sat up.

“I made arrangements,” he whined. “There are two of them. Two. Cousins. What am I supposed to tell them?” He followed me as I headed for the leg press.

“That you made plans without consulting me?” I adjusted the weight, adding twenty pounds.

“That you made plans without consulting me. What the hell is so important that you’d blow me off on a non-Finley weekend?” He stared down at me with a mix of real and mock outrage. “You know we only have a few months before we deploy! You’re supposed to be mine!”

“A few months before you deploy, remember? I’m on rear D for this one.” Command had taken mercy on me since I was Finley’s only parent. Yes, I had a care plan, but it had been a relief when they told me I wasn’t going to have to use it. I hated sending my guys without me, though.

He grabbed his chest in indignation. “We’re supposed to be spending every moment we can together so our bromance survives the separation!”

“All three months of it.” I laughed. “Now seriously, I’m taking Morgan out.” I slid into the machine.

“I’m sorry. Morgan as in your extremely hot, way unavailable neighbor?” Sawyer asked, his expression changing to a shit-eating grin.

“Yes.” I started my reps and hoped the conversation would end there.

“Do you even know how to actually date anymore?” Sawyer dropped down so we were at the same level.

Of course he couldn’t let it end there.

“Pretty sure it all works the same as the last time I did it,” I snapped, breathing through the reps.

“You mean back in the eighteen hundreds?” Sawyer laughed.

“Seriously, leave him alone,” Garrett told Sawyer, dropping after his last pull-up. “Jax, I like her. She might be gorgeous, but she doesn’t act like she knows it, and she ate your burnt-ass cheeseburger.”

“Thanks for your approval.” I grunted as I reached the end of the set.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like her!” Sawyer threw his hands up in the air. “I’m here for this, Montgomery. What can I do to help you? Do you need tips? Advice? Date ideas? You know that Myspace isn’t a thing anymore, right?”

I finished the last rep, then climbed from the machine and put my hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “Sawyer, you know I love you like a brother, but you are the last person in the world I would ever ask dating advice from.”

Garrett burst into laughter as I hauled my ass to the shower. I wasn’t letting Sawyer get to me, not when I’d gotten Morgan to say yes—even if it was a friend-zone date. I’d take what I could get when it came to her.

My phone rang as I zipped up my flight suit post-shower.

“Fuck,” I muttered, but I still answered. “Do you know what time it is, Claire?”

“Ten thirty,” she snapped.

“It’s one thirty in the morning here.” I sat down on the bench in front of my locker and put on my boots.

“Well, you answered, so you must still be awake.”

“But you didn’t know that when you called—” I sat up and rubbed the skin between my eyes. “Okay, let’s start over. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“We have a giant fucking issue,” she seethed.

“Which would be?”

“Did you seriously send my daughter to her kindergarten orientation wearing a damned Easter dress and Converse?” Her voice was pitched high enough to be called a shriek.

I bit back an instinctual reply, which would have been to tell her to fuck off and hang up. She’s Finley’s mother. I repeated the thought four times before I spoke.

“Not that I know of.” I leaned down to lace my boots, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder.

“So this picture Brie sent me isn’t Finley’s orientation? I just sent it.”

My phone vibrated, and I pulled it back long enough to see the picture Brie had taken yesterday appear in our text thread. “That’s Finley right before orientation,” I confirmed.

“Jax!”

“What?” I finished tying the first boot and started on the second. “She’s not wearing an Easter dress because it doesn’t have a thousand bunnies on it, or eggs, or a giant cross. It’s a party dress. And those aren’t Converse; they’re her favorite pair of Vans.”

“And you let her wear that? Do you know what the teacher must have thought? What the other kids must think about her?”

“That’s their problem,” I retorted, taking a page out of Morgan’s book as I tied the second boot. “Look, Claire, she wore whatever made her feel good about herself. If you have a problem with it, then I guess you should have been here to tell her that what people think is more important than how she feels.”

“I cannot believe that you just—”

The alarm went off, and I jolted from the bench, racing for the hallway.

“We’ve got a mayday!” Sawyer called out, running my way, where all of our flight gear was stored.

It was go time.

“Claire, I’m going to have to call you back. There are people who need me to save them from an actual issue.” I hung up and pocketed my phone without another thought about Claire as I ran back to the locker room. Sawyer and Garrett both came through the door as I grabbed my flight bag, then pressed a kiss to my fingers and touched the picture of Finley I kept taped on the inside of my locker door.

Then I put her out of my mind, too, and focused only on the mission in front of me.

“Let’s go save some lives.”