by Odette Stone
“Chloe's a cute dog. You're going to fall in love with her,” I turned on the espresso machine.
Nothing. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Matt?”
He looked up at me with disgust on his face. “You need to get rid of her.”
I crossed my arms. “No.”
“Emily, this isn’t up for discussion.” He turned on his lawyer voice for this discussion. I hated his lawyer voice. It sounded arrogant and know-it-all.
I held my ground. “I agree. The idea of sending her to a shelter isn’t up for discussion.”
His eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”
“No.”
“Well, I don’t want to live with a dog.”
“Matt, you haven’t even given her a chance. She’s such a sweetheart.”
“It's my final decision,” he dismissed.
“You always want your way.”
He looked up at me. “If my way is the right way, yeah.”
“You never listen to what I want.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” I yelled. I never yelled. I never raised my voice.
He looked at me in shock.
“Well listen up, Matt,” my tone was sarcasm laced with hurt, “I want Chloe. And I'm keeping Chloe. If you think it is okay to make veto decisions in this relationship then I can too. And this is my final decision. I'm keeping the dog.”
He stood up. “Like hell you are.”
“I'm keeping the dog."
“You're going to get rid of it. This is just one of your stupid, impulsive moves. Dogs are a big commitment. You don’t have it in you to commit to a dog.”
My mouth gaped open. My chest rose and fell in anger. “Marriage is a commitment.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it isn’t,” I said in disbelief.
“Dogs are too much work. They take up too much of your time.”
“I'm keeping the dog.”
He pointed his finger at me. “You're incredibly selfish. And immature.”
My eyes narrowed. “I'm keeping the dog. I love that dog.”
“You’re supposed to love me,” he bellowed. “I'm the only one you're supposed to love.”
I stared at him. When it came down to it, Matt needed to be the only one that was loved. He couldn’t share. And now he couldn’t stand to watch me love a dog.
“I can love more than one person, Matt."
He picked up his plate and threw it. I ducked, and the plate exploded against the brick wall behind me, spraying me with food and shards of glass. I ducked my head into my arms. A wine glass sailed towards me, shattering next to me on the granite counter.
“Leave,” a voice spoke from behind Matt.
I looked up. There behind Matt, towered Jackson. He looked dangerous with his corded neck, flared nostrils and green eyes that were mean slits. Jackson was gone, and a big fucking badass navy SEAL stood in my kitchen. He looked like he was ready to rip Matt’s head off.
Matt took a step back. His voice sounded unsteady. “This is none of your concern.”
“Get the fuck out.”
Matt looked at me, giving me a death look before he grabbed his phone and keys. He kicked the dog bed on his way out, causing it to sail across the room. He slammed open the door and then was gone.
I huddled into myself.
The wine dripped down onto the floor, breaking the silence that deafened the room. I was in shock. Had Matt just thrown his dinner at my head?
My eyes lifted to Jackson. He still looked fierce. He walked towards me. I couldn’t help it. I flinched when he raised his hand to my chin.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” he said in a voice that was so gentle, it almost made me cry. He tilted my face. “You’ve been cut.”
I blinked. Nothing was making sense. My brain was frozen. Unable to process what had just happened. I reached up and touched my forehead, wincing. My fingertips had blood on them.
“Come here,” he said, steering me to the island. He lifted me to sit up on the countertop. I watched as he ran a clean tea towel under the water and then he was gently dabbing at my face. Only five hours earlier, in this exact spot, he had kissed me. Now he was tending my wounds from my fiancé’s violence.
“Has he ever been like that before?” he asked in a very calm voice.
“No.”
Green eyes stared into mine. “I think this is just a scratch. It won’t scar.”
I worked to breathe. Nothing in my life was making sense anymore. “I should clean up.”
He put one massive hand on my knee.
Our eyes met.
“Emily.”
I covered my eyes with one hand and started to cry. “I’m not ready.”
That made no sense, but those are the words that came out of my mouth. He lifted a hand to cup my cheek tenderly. “Try and get some sleep, okay?”
I felt tired and sad. “Okay.”
I picked up Chloe’s bed from where Matt had kicked it and then I called Chloe. She stretched, jumped off the couch and followed me upstairs.
Chloe’s bed remained on the floor unused. She climbed into bed and curled up to me. I lay there, my hand stroking her soft damp fur, and stared into the dark. How could I get everything back to normal? I could feel my entire world breaking and shifting, and it scared me. I needed to get Matt back on track. Things would go back to normal. They had to. We needed things to go back to the way they were.
I decided to plan the wedding. We needed to make it to that day, and everything would be fine. Matt was under so much stress at work. This whole Jackson thing wasn’t helping either. The two of them had a lot of stuff to work through.
My heart pounded when I thought of Jackson. I forbid myself from thinking about him. He had no place in my life. He was a Navy SEAL who lived a dangerous life. He didn’t want marriage. He didn’t want kids. Jackson and I were about as compatible as a fluffy bunny and a giant wolf. Yes, he was stupidly attractive, but my excuses were over now. I needed to think of him as only my pseudo future brother-in-law. Because I was pretty sure the success of my marriage would depend on my ability to abolish Jackson from my mind.
Something woke me up. Chloe was snoring delicately in my bed. I looked at the clock. It was after 2 AM. Another noise. It was the sound of the garage door. Matt was home. I crept to my bedroom door and opened it. I peered down over the glass balcony railing. The mudroom light was on casting long shadows in the room below. I noted that Jackson had cleaned up the kitchen. I glanced over at his shut bedroom door.
I stood in the shadows and heard the heavy door slide open and then shut. Matt strolled in, not looking up. I watched as he walked to the island, and dumped his pockets. Keys and phone and change clattered on the granite.
Out of the shadows, behind Matt, materialized Jackson. I covered my mouth. He looked frightening. Like a monster ghost appearing out of thin air.
“Jesus,” Matt startled, jumping back. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
Jackson just stood there. Legs planted, arms crossed. “Want to explain what that was about?”
“What are you the domestic police now? Why don’t you mind your own business?"
Jackson moved forward with incredible speed. Matt staggered back. A stool almost took him down, but he recovered. Jackson backed Matt up against the counter. He towered over Matt.
“Jackson,” Matt sounded breathless. “It’s me, Mattie.”
A long pause. And then Jackson spoke in a voice that was so low that it was a growl. “I'll rip you apart until there is nothing left of you if you ever get violent with her again.”
“Jackson,” Matt said, sounding like he was about to argue.
Jackson grabbed Matt by the throat. Matt grabbed Jackson’s hand with both of his own. Jackson lifted him up so that Matt was on his tippy toes. “This isn’t up for debate, Matt. I'll fuck you up.”
Matt nodded wildly. And Jackson dropped him. Matt put his hands around his neck. Jackson spo
ke in a normal voice. “Get some sleep. You smell like a brewery.”
“Oh fuck,” Matt croaked, bending over, holding his neck.
Jackson turned around and looked up towards me. Our eyes held for a long moment and then I stepped back into my room and shut the door.
I put my head against the door. Desire, lust, and awe washed over me. I looked at the ceiling trying to catch my breath. I could feel my heart in my stomach.
“This is crazy,” I whispered.
Chloe raised a sleepy head and looked at me. I rushed to the bed and wrapped my arms around her neck. She smelled sweet and fresh, like a puppy.
“It’s okay,” I soothed her, my mouth against her fur. “Everything is going to be fine. Trust me. It’s all going to work out.”
Chapter 27
The next morning, Jackson came in from his run while Chloe and I ate breakfast. Chloe walked over to him, wagging her tail so hard her whole bum wagged back and forth.
“I think she likes you,” I said, trying not to look at his corded stomach that I could see through his wet t-shirt.
Jackson walked into the kitchen, filled a glass up with water from the tap and chugged it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How are you doing?”
I nodded, embarrassed on so many levels. Confessing to Jackson that Matt had cheated on me. Jackson devastating me with yet another kiss. Matt coming home and demanding we get rid of Chloe. Our fight. Jackson stepping in to protect me. I was confused on a multitude of levels. Whatever weird thing we had going on here, it had to stop. “I'm fine.”
He studied me for a long moment. “Okay.”
I took a deep breath. “What are you doing today?”
“I have an appointment at the hospital for an hour at 11, but after that I'm free.”
I looked his body over. “Is everything okay?” Trying to figure out why he was an outpatient. He visited the hospital three times a week, but physically he seemed perfect.
Green eyes stared back at me. “Fine.”
What kind of treatment could he possibly be doing at the hospital? Physically, he was as close to perfection that anyone could get. Did he have an internal injury? What if he had some disease, like cancer? Would he be able to work out like he did if he was getting treated for cancer?
He spoke again. “Your car isn’t quite ready. What do you need to do?”
“Just some more wedding stuff.”
He turned his head and looked out over the loft. He looked unimpressed.
Of course, he would be unimpressed. I was dragging a navy SEAL around the city to plan a wedding. Any red-blooded male would be unimpressed.
“This stuff I can do myself,” I said quickly. “When my car is fixed.”
His eyes narrowed on my face. “My appointment is only an hour. I'll come pick you up when I'm done.”
“Jackson,” I said softly. “You don’t have to.”
He started to walk out of the kitchen. “See you in a bit.”
We stepped into the bakery that I had made an appointment with to do a cake tasting. A woman stepped forward and introduced herself as Margaret.
“So glad that you and your fiancé could come. I know you said that he was too busy so this is fantastic,” she beamed up at Jackson.
My lips parted, trying to find the words to tell the woman that I had brought a different man other than my fiancé to my cake tasting but before I could find the words, Jackson reached out and shook her hand. He beamed her a smile and said, “Wouldn’t miss it.”
She had the same reaction any female, not six feet under would have on the receiving end of a Jackson smile. Her mouth parted slightly. She turned a pretty pink, touched her throat and giggled. “That’s so sweet.”
She stared stupidly up at him and his smile.
We waited.
She blushed even harder. “Oh, please come with me.”
She led us to the back room. Jackson looked behind at me and winked. I responded by rolling my eyes at him. I was starting to realize that this man knew what he was doing with the opposite sex.
We both stopped when we came to the table. On five white trays, there was slice after slice of different types of cake all marked with tiny cards. Angel cake, red velvet cake, banana cake, spice cake, vanilla cake, chocolate cake. The list just went on and on.
Jackson whistled under his breath.
Margaret laughed. “We’ve got coffee and water. Lots of forks. And here is a sheet for you to make notes on. Just have fun.”
Margaret promised to return and then we were left standing there.
I picked up the sheet and pencil and looked around. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Process of elimination?”
I smiled. “You know it.”
Thirty minutes later, Jackson was staring at the three pieces of cake left. “It’s between the chocolate ganache, the black forest cake, and the German chocolate cake.”
I shook my head. “I don’t even want cake at the wedding anymore. If I don’t eat another bite of cake in my lifetime, I'm okay.”
He looked at me amused. “You’re a lightweight.”
“You pick.”
He gave me a pointed look. “You’re seriously giving up?”
“I call it a graceful defeat.”
I watched as he took a tiny bite of the first cake, chewing with a seriousness of a MasterChef judge. “I think the cake is light but maybe the ganache is too sweet.”
I leaned forward, spellbound. “Okay.”
He tried the German chocolate cake. He looked thoughtful. “This is excellent. Dark, rich, moist.”
My eyes were on his lips. He lifted his fork, and I saw his perfect white teeth as he tried the black forest cake. A flashback of those teeth nipping my bottom lip flooded my mind. I struggled to breathe.
“I like this one too,” he mused.
“What do you like about it?” I asked eagerly. Lord, I loved those lips.
His eyes turned and looked directly at me. “I like cherries.”
I swallowed hard. Then I turned bright red. I sputtered, “Yes, the cherry filling is a nice contrast.”
I picked up my water glass and took a few gulps, trying to cool myself off. For a second there I thought he was referencing something other than the filling. I seriously needed to get my mind out of the gutter.
“So which one do you want?”
“Black Forest cake,” I said, bending my head over the sheet.
Jackson opened the door, and a second later, Margaret came waltzing in. She brought us over to stand in front of a table of decorated cakes, talking to us about shapes and tiers and icing design. All I could think of was how close Jackson stood next to me. He leaned in and said into my ear very quietly. “I wasn’t talking about the filling when I said I liked cherries.”
My mouth dropped open. Margaret starting showing us cakes and pictures and discussing sizes and shapes. I couldn’t think. My mind was swirling. Did Jackson just tell me that he liked virgins? I was a virgin! I could feel my face burning hot and red. I couldn’t think.
Margaret asked me a question that didn’t register.
I said, “What do you think Jackson?”
What did he mean he liked cherries? A vision of him laying me down on the bed and deflowering me washed through my mind. My stomach hurt at the thought. It would be terrifying to get naked in front of him. I felt myself flush again.
Margaret was looking at me. Had she just asked me a question? “I agree with Jackson.”
Margaret tilted her head and gave me a quizzical look. Jackson gave a soft snort beside me. They started to talk again, but I wasn’t paying attention.
What was going through his mind? Didn’t he know that comments like that threw me completely for a loop? He might take that joking lightly, but it left me reeling with crazy, awkward thoughts about naked bodies and him doing devastatingly delicious things to my body.
This whole situation was torture. Okay. I was attracted to him, but I was
all wrong for him. Not to mention that I was engaged. Engaged! To Matt.
Both Jackson and Margaret were looking at me expectedly.
“You decide Jackson,” I breathed. It’s not like he had propositioned me. I mean, he was just teasing me. And even if someone like Jackson wanted to do something sexy with me, he was all wrong for me. He worked a dangerous job. He was precisely the opposite of the kind of guy I needed to marry. We were incompatible on every level. So why did my heart race every time I had inappropriate thoughts about him?
How could I possibly marry someone like Matt when I didn’t want to be with him like I wanted to be with Jackson?
The traitorous thought blurted into my mind, and I almost stopped breathing. Oh, my God. What was happening to me? I was engaged to Matt. I wobbled on my feet. I was a heartbeat away from having a panic attack. Why was this happening to me?
I feel trapped in my engagement.
Oh, my God. I needed to get control over this situation, or I would ruin everything. My feelings would destroy my future.
Jackson put a huge warm hand on my hip, and he tugged me closer, looking down at me like a loving fiancé would look down at his future bride. “You okay, sweetheart?”
I'm pretty sure my heart didn’t know whether to stop beating entirely or to pound wildly out of my chest. For a brief second, I thought I was going to faint in his arms. The scent of cake overwhelmed my senses. Choking me. I struggled to breathe. I fanned my face. “Just a bit hot.”
He ducked his head, so his face was close to mine. Green eyes looked at me with concern. “Do you need to sit down?”
I wasn’t sure my legs would make it to a chair.
I whispered in complete desperation. “Please get me out of here.”
Jackson put his arm around me and turned me around and started walking me towards the door. “Emily needs some fresh air.”
“Oh, of course,” Margaret’s voice sounded so far away.
With Jackson’s help, I staggered out into the sunshine. He lifted me onto the back tailgate of his truck.
“Put your head down,” he said, holding my arm while I awkwardly dropped my head between my legs.
