Tempt (Cloverleigh Farms Next Generation Book 4)
Tempt: Chapter 25

I managed to last another twenty minutes or so, then I faked a headache and told Mason and Lori I’d see them tomorrow.

“Oh no.” Lori looked distressed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “It’s just been a long day.”

We’d exchanged gifts at their house before coming over to the inn, and Mason had gotten choked up over the items that had belonged to my grandfather. Then he’d opened up the bottle of whiskey I’d bought him, and we enjoyed a drink while he and Lori listened with rapt attention to all the old family stories I told. Mason said he wanted to do more research on my grandfather’s military record and even create a family tree that went back generations—he’d always been envious of kids at school with huge family trees when they’d been assigned projects about family history.

Lori adored the sweater, pulling it on immediately and rubbing the soft sleeve against her cheek, and I sent a quick text to Catherine to thank her for the suggestion.

They’d gifted me with a hooded sweatshirt from the high school where Mason taught, a bottle of wine from Cloverleigh Farms, and finally, a card with a black and white picture inside. I held it up—it was an ultrasound image.

“It’s a girl,” Mason said, his voice full of pride.

My throat felt scratchy when I tried to speak, and I cleared it as I continued to stare at the figure on the paper. Her profile was clearly visible, and a tiny little fist was in front of her face. “Wow.”

“We don’t know what her name is yet, but we thought you might like to have a copy of her first photo,” Lori said softly.

“Thanks.” All kinds of feelings were swirling around inside me, including fear and the urge to run out the front door, but there was no denying the surge of protectiveness in my chest. This tiny little being was my blood. She would carry within her some of me, for better or worse. Some of my parents and grandparents before me. Some of Poppy.

My throat grew even tighter, my chest more full. I wasn’t used to these kinds of emotions and wondered how the hell any father got through a day with this kind of maelstrom going on inside them.

And yet, I wondered if I’d made a mistake throwing away my chance to be one.

I let myself into my hotel room and fell back on the bed, feeling like I’d fucked up Christmas Eve for everyone. I’d made Millie cry, I’d disappointed Lori, Mason had been silent when I’d shook his hand before walking out. As for myself, I’d never been so fucking lonesome.

And tomorrow would be more of the same. I’d been invited to Lori’s parents’ house for Christmas dinner, but that wasn’t until five o’clock, so most of the day would be spent sitting in this hotel room pondering all the terrible choices I’d made over the course of my life.

And what about that life? Was it half over? How much longer did I have? What had I done with it that would matter? What would I do with the time I had left? What did I want?

I was still lying there, on the verge of an existential crisis, when my phone vibrated. Thinking maybe it was Millie, I sat up fast and pulled it from my pocket.

It was Jackson.

“Hello?”

“Sorry to bother you on Christmas Eve. I know you’re on vacation.”

“It’s fine. I might cut the vacation short anyway.”

“Does that mean you’re available for a job?”

“Sure.”

“Good. You’re the only one I’d trust on this. There’s a woman and child involved.”

My pulse sped up a little. “What’s the job?”

“You’ll pick them up outside Twin Falls, Idaho and drive them to Rose Canyon, Oregon.”

“When?”

“Day after tomorrow. I’m leaving for Las Vegas in the morning, and I’ll drive them to Idaho. You’ll take it from there.”

“Okay. Who’s the client?”

“A British guy. He hired me to protect his wife and daughter upon his death—get them out of the UK and transport them to Rose Canyon without being tracked.”

“Was the death suspicious?”

“No. A terminal illness. But he knew the end was near and for some reason felt they weren’t safe. He gave me specific instructions to follow.”

“Are they safe?”

“No.” Jackson’s tone was firm. “But beyond that, I don’t have a lot of details.”

“Understood.”

“Book a flight to Twin Falls. I’ll meet you there with further instructions.”

“Got it,” I said, glad to have a distraction and purpose.

“So what happened to your trip?” he asked. “Why are you cutting it short?”

“It’s just time for me to go.”

Silence. “Did you see her?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

I closed my eyes. “I gave her the necklace. I made her cry.”

“In a good way? Like, happy tears?”

“No. In a sad, fucked-up, you-just-made-everything-worse way.”

Jackson exhaled. “Well. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my temples with a thumb and forefinger. “I’ll see you in two days.”