by Odette Stone
Suddenly, I felt incredible rage towards him. Why wasn’t he standing up for us? Why was he letting Matt and Irene step in and make all the decisions about our future? Didn’t he care? Or had he already decided that this was something he no longer wanted to deal with?
“If you didn’t want me, you could have just told me that you changed your mind.” I spat the words at him. My tone was ice cold.
Something flashed in his eyes, but his tone was neutral. “You’re the one that told me repeatedly that you don’t want to marry me.”
His words were tossed out there on the table between the four of us. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. He was right. I wanted nothing more than to marry this man and when he asked me, I'd been a complete idiot. My stupid insecurities and fears had wrecked everything. I should have jumped in Jackson’s arms the moment he had proposed and just said yes. Now he didn’t even want to marry me, and he was about to disappear from our lives. Not only had I been stupid and ungrateful towards Jackson’s honorable approach to this situation, but I had also been grossly unfair to our unborn child. I felt sick with misery. I had no idea how to fix this.
I wanted to find a little corner and curl up in a ball. I needed to get away. This conversation was too much to bear, and I had no answers.
“I would like to go home now, please,” my voice wavered.
“Emily,” Matt admonished.
I looked down at my lap, struggling to maintain my composure.
“Now,” my voice was barely audible.
Matt sighed indicating his displeasure, and then he motioned for the waiter to bring us the check. When the billfold was handed to Matt, he discretely slid it towards me.
“What’s going on?” Jackson’s tone made me lift my head. If I didn’t know better, he sounded pissed.
I flushed. “Oh, sorry. Did you want anything else?”
He reached across me and picked up the billfold. He gave Matt a derisive look, as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.
“It’s fine,” Matt flushed. “Emily always pays.”
“I’ve never let a woman buy me dinner, and I’m not about to start now.”
“Thank you, Jackson,” Irene patted her mouth with her cloth napkin. It enraged me that they were making Jackson pay for his good-bye dinner, but at this point, there was no fight left in me.
Chapter 9
Matt led us through the restaurant, and I followed behind him. I needed to talk to Jackson alone. I had no idea what to say, but he couldn't go back to Virginia with it ending like this. We needed to talk. He might have decided that he didn’t want to marry me, but I needed to make things right between us. We were having a child together. We needed to get on the same page and figure this out. Did he want custody? Did he even want to be part of this child’s life? We had so much to figure out. I had no answers, but at the very least, we needed to start a dialogue.
A high-pitched scream startled me out of my reflections. Matt stopped so short that I ran into his back. He stumbled to the side. I watched, confused as he dove between two tables and landed on his knees. He ducked for cover.
I turned my head and came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. My body tensed. Fight or flight? Try completely frozen. I couldn’t bring air into my lungs while my mind, in slow motion, pieced together the situation in front of me.
Dirty face. Head shaved. My breath rasped, and my heartbeat thrashed. Would it hurt? When the bullet pierced my brain, would it hurt or would I just be gone? His hand and the gun shook. Is this how it would all end for me?
“Give me your purse.”
I stared at the man, noting distractedly that his lips were cracked. Dark circles lined under his eyes. He looked deranged.
The silence in the restaurant deafened. I was certain that everyone could hear my heart hammer.
Two big hands wrapped around my shoulders and gently pushed me aside. My numb trembling legs moved against my will. I turned and realized with horror that Jackson had pushed me aside. Now he stood face to face with the man and the gun. The gun pointed directly at his chest.
No.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Jackson couldn't die in a restaurant saving my life. He wasn't allowed to sacrifice himself for me.
“Take your gun and walk out and no one will get hurt,” Jackson’s voice was matter of fact. Relaxed.
The guy looked scared. He raised the gun to Jackson’s head. “Fuck you, asshole. Give me your wallet. And her purse too.”
“You can have it,” I bleated, holding my purse towards him. “Take it all.”
The guy’s eyes dropped down to my black Givenchy bag. Jackson moved so quickly, I didn’t even see how it happened.
Now Jackson held the gun.
What?
Jackson now held the gun. We all watched as he grabbed the top of the gun, slid the chamber back with a deafening click. He lifted the gun and aimed it at the guy’s forehead.
The man looked down at his hand like he couldn’t believe he was no longer holding the gun. He looked back up at the barrel of the gun, his eyes wide. True terror radiated out of his eyes.
“Get out before you do something even more stupid and I end up killing you,” Jackson’s voice was clear.
The guy stood unmoving. Yup. I knew that feeling. Frozen in fear. Then Jackson’s words resonated with the man. He slowly backed up, and he spun around. The entire restaurant watched in mute silence as he barreled towards the door. A loud sound echoed as the door slammed and he disappeared into the night.
Jackson’s voice sounded casual. The kind of casual tone you would use when you asked someone if they wanted a second cup of coffee. “Emily, are you okay?”
I wanted to speak. I wanted to say something, but I was using all my energy to just stay on my feet.
Sobbing sounded from behind me. Distracted, I looked over my shoulder. Irene crouched on her knees behind someone’s chair. She sobbed like the gun had been in her face.
Matt appeared at my side, breathing hard. His eyes looked wild. He looked me up and down, checking to see if I had been shot. “Oh, my God, Emily. Are you okay?”
Said the guy who had jumped out of the way, so I was in the line of fire. Call it adrenaline, call it shock, call it whatever you want to call it, but suddenly words tumbled out of my mouth without any filter, without any forethought.
“Jackson, is your marriage proposal still on the table?” My voice echoed through the room. You could hear a pin drop. I glanced around, and dozens of shocked faces swam before my eyes.
It was safe to say I had the room’s attention.
At first, it seemed like he hadn’t heard me. We all watched as he pointed the weapon down and expertly dropped the magazine out of the gun.
“You want to get married?”
Green eyes glanced up at my face. One look and he took in my trembling lips. My wide eyes. The way my chest rose and fell with emotion.
“Yes,” I sounded mangled.
His eyes dropped back down to the gun. He slid the gun chamber back with a click that the entire restaurant heard. I watched as the remaining bullet flipped out of the gun.
His eyes came back to my face. Assessing. Weighing. “What changed your mind?”
I became aware that the entire restaurant leaned in to hear my response.
My whole body shook. My voice quivered. “Do you need a reason?”
His eyebrows moved up a small notch even though his tone was edged with disinterest. “Just curious.”
I felt lightheaded. I knew that if I weren’t truthful with him at this moment, he'd probably not agree to marry me.
“We need you.”
It was the truth. Even if he didn’t want us, this baby and I needed him desperately. We'd be nothing without him. Even if it was wrong to trap him like this, I was incapable of stopping myself.
Green eyes narrowed on my face. His jaw tightened. Then he nodded. “Okay.”
The entire restaurant exploded in applause. Chaos erupted around
us. The maitre d’ approached Jackson from behind. He held out a tray for Jackson. I watched as Jackson set the gun and the magazine on a tray. The man said something to Jackson.
Matt spoke, but his words barely registered. “Emily. Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
The maitre d’ was looking up at Jackson with the same level of hero worship as he would a world-class sommelier. His expression one of complete reverence.
I ignored Matt. Had I proposed to Jackson in public? In front of an entire restaurant full of people? Had he said yes? Was this happening?
Matt grabbed my upper arm, his fingers cutting hard. “I’m serious. This is the worst mistake of your life.”
I yanked my arm out of his grip and looked up at Matt for the first time. He looked incredibly frustrated.
“Irene needs you,” my voice sounded wooden. He abruptly turned and moved towards Irene.
I looked back at Jackson who shook hands with the maitre d’ and three waiters. He glanced over at me. He motioned with his head for me to move towards him. I somehow managed to walk over to him. I felt one big arm come around my shoulder and pull me against his warm, strong side.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly. His tone was so gentle I moved my face against his chest and took in a deep breath. I loved how this man smelled. If I could burrow my way into this man, I would. He represented everything safe and warm to me. He felt like home.
“I thought he was going to shoot you,” my voice muffled against his chest.
He snorted. As if what I suggested was so preposterous it was almost insulting.
I put my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beating. So slow and steady. I started to slowly calm down. “Your heart isn’t even beating fast.”
“My heart rate only goes up when the bullets are coming out of the gun.”
“I thought you were going to die.”
He looked down at me, reading my expression. I looked back up at his face. Didn’t he know that the mere thought of him in danger filled me with so much angst, I could barely breathe?
“Come on,” he grabbed my hand and started to pull me out of the restaurant.
“Shouldn’t we wait for the police or something?” I tripped after him, glancing over my shoulder.
He ignored me and pulled me outside, leading me to the truck.
Chapter 10
He bundled me into the truck and got in beside me. Without looking at me, he started the truck and then we were driving. I sat there beside him, shaking like a leaf.
What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Did he not want to marry me? Was he resenting the fact that I had publicly proposed to him? Thoughts raced through my mind.
We pulled up to my dark loft.
He turned off the truck and looked over at me. His features looked so angular in the dim light. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
“Yes.” My voice faltered.
He sounded calm. “I can’t offer you what Matt can. You’re marrying a soldier, not a lawyer.”
“I know that.”
“You come from a different world. No one knows that better than me.”
Shock rippled through me. “Why would you say that?”
“Em, I stayed at your granny’s place. It was a penthouse that overlooks Central Park. If that is the kind of luxury you’ve grown up with, you’re going to hate military housing.”
“I don’t care about that,” I said. I didn’t. Houses did not make a person happy. Other people did.
“I’m gone a lot.”
“Don't you want to do this, Jackson?” I asked him, suddenly scared again.
“I’m all in. I just want you to have realistic expectations.”
I looked out the windshield. Thinking about the tall blonde hostess who looked like she would eat him alive. I decided to be blunt about it. “What are your views on monogamy?”
“Are you asking me if I think I’m going to cheat on you?”
I chewed my lip.
His voice was matter of fact. “If you keep on having sex with me, I guarantee I won’t stray.”
I blushed.
“I leave on Friday,” he said. “That gives us two days.”
I looked over at him in the dark. Trying to read the expression on his face. Failing.
“I did some research. In New York, we need to apply for a marriage license at least 24 hours before we can get married, so I’ll apply tomorrow, and we can get married Friday morning before I leave.”
My whole body jerked. “You want to get married on Friday?”
“I can’t move you out there until we get housing, and I can’t apply for housing until we're married.”
“Oh.”
“Emily, I assumed we'd do this quick and easy but if you need a wedding?”
“No,” I interrupted. “City hall is fine.”
He gave me a steady look. “You sure?”
“I just spent five months planning a wedding. I’m good.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “Being in the military is a way of life. I’m not sure it’s fair to marry you.”
“You sound like Irene.”
“She had some valid points.”
“What did she say?”
“She pointed out that you’re used to a certain lifestyle. There are no fancy preschools on the base. All the kids go to the same school.”
“I went to a private school. I was miserable.”
“I’m trying to do what's best here for you and this kid. I’m not sure that dragging either of you into my life is the right thing.”
“I’m the one dragging you into a life that you don’t want.”
We stared at each for a long moment. I had visions of the look on the blonde hostess' face as she looked back up at Jackson, with her come-hither look. The panic began to flow through me again. My entire body tensed up. Were we making a huge mistake?
“Em, what are you thinking?”
“What if you can’t stand being married and a waitress with perfect blonde hair offers to do bad things with you, and when you come home I’m a hot mess, and the baby won’t stop crying?”
There it was. I vomited my darkest fears into this conversation.
He laughed. Like leaned his head back and openly laughed. I stared at him in fascination. This man was perfect looking when he laughed. I could not believe he was going to marry me. “That’s not going to happen.”
I was fairly certain all of the above would at some point or another. “It might.”
“I take my commitments seriously.”
I stared into his eyes. He reached over and a big hand wrapped around the back of my neck. He pulled my face close and then he was kissing me. Kissing me until I swooned while the whole world was spinning and a moan escaped my lips.
His mouth lifted off mine. A smile played on his lips. “I’m going to go.”
Before I could protest, he got out of the truck and walked around to open my door. He held out his hand and then he walked me up the steps to the loft.
I turned and looked at him. Wondering what he would say if I invited him in. Would he say yes? Would he refuse? My fears made me mute.
“Get some sleep,” he said, his expression hard to read.
My lips parted.
“I’m trying to give you some space to adjust to all of this,” he said before he dropped another kiss on my mouth.
And then he moved down the stairs before disappearing out of sight.
The following morning I woke up in disbelief over everything that had happened. Was I going to marry Jackson? Had I hallucinated the entire event? I wandered around my loft in a state of shock. I was half expecting that he would call me and tell me that he had thought things over and didn’t want to get married. I braced myself for this. I would not blame him if he didn’t want to marry me. I would handle it with grace and dignity.
My phone dinged with a text.
Jackson: I got our marriage license.
Holy crap.
> Me: Okay.
Jackson: I have some things I need to take care of today. Can I pick you up at 2 PM tomorrow to head down to city hall?
I stared at my phone in shock. Did he have doubts? Were we making a bad situation worse? Should we just stop this before we took it any further?
Me: Okay.
The ceremony was short and sweet. Two hours later we were back at the loft. Jackson changed and was ready to leave.
“This is shit timing, but I need to go if I’m going to get back to Virginia in time for work.”
I nodded wordlessly.
He looked around the loft. “You gonna be okay?”
“Yes.”
This felt surreal. How would I know when to come to Virginia? I knew he was leaving for some training. Would he be out of contact for the entire time?
“Will you just text me when I’m supposed to come to Virginia?” I asked hesitantly.
He paused, a quizzical expression crossed his face. “I’ll probably call you tonight. When I arrive.”
My lips parted in shock. He was acting like a real husband. It stunned me into complete silence. “Okay.”
Chloe and I walked him out to his truck. He put his bag in the back and then turned around and looked down at me. This was weird.
“I’m sorry you’re spending our wedding night alone. That was some piss poor planning on my part,” he teased.
I blushed.
He laughed and grabbed my left hand. He held it up and studied the slim band on my finger. “Feel any different?”
“I feel weird.”
A big hand wrapped around my neck as he tugged me close. His mouth came down over mine. I felt all the tension flow out of me as his tongue gently teased me. I wrapped my hands up around his thick neck and clung to him as he slowly kissed me into oblivion. When he lifted his head, I was fairly panting.
“Better?” he asked, his eyes dark.
I gave a shaky laugh. “Better.”
He groaned as he pulled me against his hard body. “I have to go.”
“Okay.”
I may or may not have shed a few tears when his big black truck pulled out of the driveway. And then he was gone.
