Page 48 of Redemption

“It’s hard not to like Brooklyn,” he said, sidestepping my question.

“And your niece and nephew.”

“They’re great, but I don’t get to spend as much time with them as I’d like.”

“Because of work?” I asked while the fritters were delivered, along with a second glass of punch. I barely even felt the alcohol. Just a nice, pleasant buzz.

Friends. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

He nodded. “Though…”

I furrowed my brow. “Though, what?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just… I’m hoping to spend some more time with them after our trip.”

“That will be nice,” I said. “Never wanted kids of your own?”

He toyed with his glass. “That’s dangerous territory.”

It wouldn’t be the first time we’d wandered into dangerous territory.

He cupped my cheek, threading his fingers through my hair. His gaze was so intense. So right. I could drown in his eyes. I could forget everything and everyone else when I was with him.

“I need you to promise me something.” He brushed my hair away from my face.

“Anything,” I breathed. I would give him anything he asked.

“Promise me that no matter what happens between us, it won’t affect your relationship with Greer.”

“I-I—” I swallowed hard. He was right; Greer would kill us. But I was already too far gone to try to stop. I had tried to stop. I’d tried to avoid Jackson, but I couldn’t. “I promise.”

The moment his lips connected with mine, I was lost. Lost to reason. Lost to anything but the feeling of his lips caressing mine. His hands on my hips.

It was everything I’d dreamed of and still so much more. It was like gliding along the water—natural and freeing. Exhilarating.

When he kissed me, it was as if the world came alive. As if I came alive.

The earth kept on spinning, the song changed, and yet, we were in our own little world. Just the two of us.

Jackson placed his hand on my arm. “Sloan?”

“Hm?” I glanced down at where his hand rested on my skin.

“Where’d you go just now?”

I blinked a few times. I needed to ground myself in the present before the rum and memories of the past carried me away.

“Tell me about working for my brother.”

“Nate?” he asked as our meal arrived. We dug in.

“Yeah. Unless you worked for one of my other brothers.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not supposed to talk about a principal with another client.”

“Right. I get that.” I stirred my drink. “But as your friend—” I winked, and it felt exaggerated “—there’s just one thing I want to know.”

“What’s that?” he asked, brow arched in amusement.