AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thank you. I’m on my fourth bottle of Gatorade and am thinking of calling my sister to come by with an IV they give to drunks.”
Jackson laughed, but she didn’t say anything further. “You’re serious.”
“I am. I’ve never hurt like this,” she groaned.
Olivia's discomfort became increasingly apparent. He could sense her pain, and he desperately wanted to ease it. “Fill your tub with cold water and add all the ice you have in it.”
“I think I’ll just sleep on the couch.” Her sigh turned into another groan.
Jackson sensed sleeping on the couch might not be enough. The sound of her strained groans spurred his protective instincts.
“Do you want me to come by?” His offer hung in the air. He drove through Waverly Junction’s streets, torn between wanting to be by her side and respecting her space.
There was a pause. “Okay, if you’re sure. I wouldn’t mind the company.”
After a quick stop at the pharmacy, he soon was knocking on her door. He was greeted with a weary, “Come in.”
Jackson let himself in to find Liv lying exactly where she said she would be…on the couch.
“Oh, Livvy.” He knelt beside her. “Where’s the master bathroom?” She looked washed out.
“It’s through there.” She pointed.
“Please tell me you don’t leave your door unlocked all the time,” he asked, heading toward her bathroom.
“It’s okay. I have a smart lock on my phone.” Olivia swung her legs off the couch and pushed up to standing. She limped toward the bathroom. “Thank you.”
He turned to face her. Her petite body barely reached his chest. “I’ll get the ice.” He made his way to her kitchen, wondering whether he should drop an ice cube into his pants, considering how he’d reacted to her proximity.
Grabbing the full bucket of ice from the freezer, he returned to the bathroom and dumped it into the tub. He followed it with some Epsom salt he bought on his way to her house. Liv dropped her robe. She was wearing tap pants and a tank shirt. Her nipples were tight points through the silk.
She stepped into the tub with a hard shudder and lowered herself into the bath. “Oh God.”
“Look at me. Can you try for three minutes?” He offered a soft smile.
“Okay. Talk to me,” she begged.
“We’re coming up on the Harvest Dance. Would you come with me?” He kept his eyes on his watch. “One minute down. That’s a third of the fun. Tell me, did your sister open the vials?”
“Yeah. Inside each were some ashes and some teeth, as well as a note.” She chewed her lip. “One note read, ‘From the ashes of deceit, the truth shall rise like a phoenix.’ And the second note read, ‘A family's resilience burns bright, rising anew from the ashes like a phoenix.’”
“The phoenix is the symbol of the Waverly real estate business. What does this mean?” He grabbed one of her bath towels and stood ready to help her from her tub. “Three minutes.” She almost jumped into his arms.
“I’ve got you.” He wrapped her in the fluffy towel and carried her to her bedroom.
Olivia's bedroom was tranquil. He sat her on a queen-sized bed covered with soft, silky bedding. The bedside tables held a couple of romance novels and a framed photograph of Olivia's family, a constant reminder of her roots.
He smiled and headed for the door. “Call me when you’re in dry clothing.”
Jackson returned to her with a cup of chamomile tea and a bottle of naproxen. “I found this in your kitchen.” He set everything down on the table beside her.
“Thank you, Jackson.”
He took a sharp breath. “Goodnight, Livvy. See you in the morning.” He headed out, stopping himself before he climbed into bed with her.
Nine
Wednesday, October 4th
