Page 5 of Kiss the Girl

“Sav, come on. You’ve got your cosmetology license. You can do hair, nails, facials, and you’re a licensed massage therapist.”

“I already paid to transfer all my licenses here, but if there aren’t any jobs…”

He stood and gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “You worry too much. You’re going to find something.”

“But what if I don’t?”

“Have a little faith, Savannah. It’s all going to work out.”

And with that, he walked away.

Staring down at the plate of vegetables, she suddenly wished it were cake or cookies too.

* * *

This wasthe last thing Jackson Coleman wanted to be doing, but as he grabbed his gear from the back of the car, he forced the disappointment aside.

He was home.

Well, not exactly home. Not yet. This was sort of a pit stop for him.

A pit stop that’s fifteen minutes away from home…

Still, it was where he decided to go to lick his wounds and come to grips with the fact that he was no longer in the military.

And not by his own choosing.

After blowing out his ACL three months ago, Jackson had gone for the surgery and done all the required physical therapy. The timing of it just so happened to coincide with his contract being up. He’d already been unsure if he was going to re-up for another five years, but the injury made the decision for him.

Sort of.

There hadn’t been a simple answer about what he was going to do. Some days he felt confident that he’d continue as a Marine, and others he was adamant that he wanted to return to civilian life.

But today he was choosing to blame all his misery on the injury.

Thanking the Uber driver, he limped away from the car and looked up at the apartment complex in front of him. His buddy Liam Donovan—also a Marine—offered him his apartment as a place to stay until he was ready to face his family. Liam was still on active duty and wouldn’t even be home on leave for at least another month or so. The place had been sitting empty and was located in Laurel Bay, which was only the next town over from Magnolia Sound. It was a win-win situation.

Except now he had to navigate the stairs up to the third floor.

Liam had warned him that there wasn’t an elevator, but Jackson didn’t see it as an issue.

Until now.

Muttering a curse, he hefted his bag over his shoulder and slowly made his way up the front walkway and to the stairs. He took his time and told himself that it wasn’t a big deal. His doctors had told him it could take up to a year for him to be fully recovered. Right now, he could walk and do all the basics, but after three months, Jackson didn’t feel like he was anywhere near where he should be.

And it pissed him off.

At the third-floor landing, he paused and let out a long breath—hating how his knee ached. Pushing all thoughts of that aside, he walked down the hall to apartment 317 and dropped his bag on the floor. Pulling out his wallet, he fished out the key and promptly unlocked the door. Once he stepped inside, he was pleasantly surprised.

The place smelled like it had just been cleaned, the temperature was perfect, and there was a bakery box on the kitchen counter along with a note.

Hey, Jackson! Liam called and told us you’d be staying here for a few weeks and asked us to have it ready for you. We gave the entire apartment a thorough cleaning, there are clean towels in the closet, clean sheets on the bed, and there’s even some food in the refrigerator for you. He also asked us to leave you the keys to his truck so you can use it if you need to.

Jackson spotted the keys next to the bakery box before he returned his attention to the note.

Our family pub—Donovan’s Pub—is just five minutes away and we hope you’ll stop in and grab a bite to eat or maybe just come in and hang out sometime. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Welcome home!

Patrick, Jamie, and Ryleigh