Page 87 of Season's Schemings
MADDIE
It might be New Year’s Eve—one of my favorite holidays—but I’m uncharacteristically annoyed. For many reasons.
First, camping is really, really boring. As well as sucky.
We spent all day yesterday cooking things over a fire, and chopping wood for said fire (well, Jax chopped and I supervised), and peeing in an outhouse. This was followed by a long night of tossing and turning while owls hooted obnoxiously in the background and I had vivid, disturbing dreams of bears peeping on me whilst I peed. So this morning, I insisted that Jax and I abandon the campsite—and the alarming bag of dehydrated “scambled eggs” he brought—early and drive to civilization for breakfast.
I was beyond thrilled to find a cute little roadside cafe.
And it would’ve been a real mood lifter, except for the fact that I haven’t heard from Seb this morning. Not even a single text through the night. I’m also already finished with my bagel (and tucking into Jax’s untouched one), and I’m now evenmorebored than before because Jax has barely looked up from his phone.
In fact, he’s been on that thingall morning.
Usually, this wouldn’t be a big deal. But today, I have leaves in my hair and I’m pretty sure a fire ant bit me on the butt. So, let’s just say I’m a little more cranky than normal.
I’m definitely finishing off this wildly chaotic year with a bang… though I’m not sure it’s a great bang.
All I want is to get home, shower, nap, and then get myself all made up for the Cyclones’ NYE party tonight. Which is sure to be a whole lot less boring than this.
“JAX!” I say again, my patience running paper thin. “What’s going on?!”
He lifts his eyes for, like, a millisecond. “Get yourself a second bagel instead of eating mine.”
“Who’re you texting?” I ask through a mouthful of cream cheese. “Is she pretty? Can I meet her?”
I may or may not be asking these questions solely because I know that they’ll get Jax to talk to me out of annoyance. What I don’t expect him to say is, “I’m texting your husband. Who is quite pretty for a man, I guess.”
“WHAT?” I’m double outraged. One, because my other half is talking to my brother while not texting me back, and two, because Sebastian is notpretty—he’s insanely hot.
Jax sets his phone down and levels stormy gray eyes on mine. “Seriously, give me my bagel back. And before you explode, yourbetter half has a surprise for you, and he was just asking for my help.”
“Ooh! Well, why didn’t you say so!” I clap my hands. “Consider my mood lifted. And sorry for eating your bagel,” I add as I cram the last bite in my mouth.
This earns me an eye roll of epic proportions. “You are such a brat. Now, come on. We’ve got an appointment to get to.”
* * *
A long drive home followed by an even longer shower later, Jax is shepherding me back into his car like I’m a rogue lamb and he promptly drives us downtown. There’s a lot of squinting at the Maps app—which is open on his phone on his lap—and a series of wrong turns, accompanied by swearing and mutterings of “Slater, you owe me big.”
Finally, we pull up at a nondescript white building with a mint green front door and a gold sign with swirly lettering I can’t quite make out. Jax looks from his phone to the door and back again, and then nods. “Think this is it.”
I open my car door, but then look back at him, still sitting in the driver’s seat with his seatbelt on. “Aren’t you coming?”
My brother laughs and shakes his head. “You’re gonna want your girls for this one.”
“My girls?”
As if in answer, there’s a knock on my window.
I look out to see Stef, Reagan, Chantal, my cousin Bethany, and three of my best friends standing outside the car. They’re holding white and gold balloons, and bottles of champagne.
I’m convinced I’m hallucinating, so I turn to Jax, who smiles broadly. “Oh, and one last thing…”
He holds his phone out to me, and hits Play on a video.
“Mad Dawg!” Dallas Cooper’s face fills the screen. “Seb told us that you love New Year’s. And you love parties. And you love stupid, gushy Hallmark romances. Which I’m willing to overlook, because you’re super cool otherwise.”
“Get to the point, dude!” someone yells off-screen.