He dipped down as he pretended to study the treats. But inside, he was trying to stifle the rise of emotions that was clouding his better judgement.
Why had he listened to his mom? He’d literally broken into Isabel’s house this morning. Why was he letting what his mom had said about Isabel affect him like he had? Isabel wasn’t his to save anymore.
She was Bobby What’s-his-name’s problem. Not his.
And yet, here he was, allowing her back into his life. He swallowed hard and straightened. Man, he was a glutton for punishment.
“Isabella, my love,” a low, robust voice bellowed from behind the counter.
Intrigued, Jackson turned to see a portly man decked out in chef whites, opening his arms and waving at Isabel to come closer.
“Pierre,” Isabel said, leaning over the counter and patting his back.
But Pierre seemed interested in a bigger hug. He squeezed her to his chest, lifting her off her feet.
Once Isabel’s feet were back on the ground, Pierre laughed, the sound bellowing through the store, as he clapped his hands together. “Very bad news,” he said, staring down at Isabel.
Jackson peeked over to see Isabel’s face drop.
“Unfortunately, my shipment of raspberries will not be available for me to properly process them.” Pierre paused, letting his words linger in the air for a moment. Then he glanced down at Isabel. “I cannot just slap some jam on my cakes willy-nilly.” He folded his hands and rested them on his stomach. “So we need to come up with a plan B.”
Isabel just stood there with her lips parted. Jackson could see that her skin had paled. He recognized the look she got when she was overwhelmed.
“So what’re our options?” Jackson asked, stepping forward and wrapping one arm around Isabel’s shoulders. Just as a show of support. From one friend to the other.
Pierre’s gaze flicked over to Jackson. “Who are you?” he asked, shoving a pudgy finger in Jackson’s direction.
“Jackson Braxton,” Jackson said as he reached his hand over the counter.
Pierre studied it for a moment and then gripped it like it was a fish about to slip away. “Braxton…” He paused, and Jackson could see the thoughts forming in his mind. “Any relation to Jonathan?”
Ready to get his hand back and blood circulating through it again, Jackson wiggled his fingers from Pierre’s grasp and nodded. “That’s right. He’s my brother.”
Pierre narrowed his eyes. “And you are marrying Isabel?”
That seemed to snap Isabel from her stupor. She raised her hands, effectively breaking Jackson’s contact as she stepped forward. “Oh no. I’m not marrying him.” She waved her hands in Jackson’s direction. “He’s an old…”
Jackson’s ears perked up to hear how exactly she was going to describe their relationship.
“He’s an acquaintance. He’s just giving me rides around town until my car is fixed.” Isabel waved her hands as if she were trying to wipe Pierre’s words away.
Pierre just narrowed his eyes as he flicked his gaze between them. “Acquaintance? What does that mean?”
Isabel pinched her lips together and turned to look at Jackson. Not sure what she wanted him to say, Jackson just shrugged. “We dated and then broke up a long time ago. That pretty much sums it up.”
Isabel’s jaw dropped as she stared at Jackson. Then she turned back to Pierre, her skin bright pink.
Jackson would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this. It was nice to air out their past. Plus, he was getting a twinge of satisfaction from saying exactly what Isabel didn’t want him to.
“You are ex-lovers?” Pierre asked as he stared at Isabel.
“Lovers may be pushing it,” she said as she stepped forward. “I dated Jackson, but I love Bobby. He and I are soul mates.” Her smile turned soft as she stared at Pierre.
Jackson hated that her words felt like a dagger to his heart. Soul mates? Her and Bobby? If he remembered correctly—and he did—she’d used those exact words to describe their relationship on numerous occasions. Whoever this Bobby guy was, he didn’t hold a candle to what Isabel and Jackson had once had.
“Well, I wouldn’t say it like that,” Jackson said, stepping forward and readying himself to spill the truth.
Suddenly, Isabel’s hand was pressed into his stomach as she moved closer to him. Startled, he stared down at her. She met his gaze and there was this pleading look to them. Like she was begging him to stay silent.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’ll explain later.”
Jackson studied her, not quite sure what this all meant. But there was a part of him that could never say no to her. He nodded and pinched his lips together.
“So, options?” Isabel asked, motioning toward the example cakes that lined the display cases.
Pierre looked suspicious, but then he nodded and extended his hand toward a small room off to the side of where they were standing. Isabel seemed to know where she was going, so Jackson followed after her.
Pierre sat down on a rickety chair and motioned to the seats across from him. Jackson stared at the small chairs and the even smaller area that they took up. Somehow, he and Isabel were supposed to sit that close to each other and not touch.
Which was laughable. There was no way they could both occupy that space.
But Isabel didn’t look bothered as she sat on the chair closest to the wall, leaving the chair nearest Jackson open.
Realizing that there really was no way he was going to get out of this, Jackson sucked in his breath and sat. Pierre pulled out a binder and began flipping the pages.
Lemon custard. Chocolate ganache. Pierre listed the types of fillings he could put in the cake. Jackson blinked a few times as he got lost in Pierre’s detailed descriptions of each picture.
Jackson wanted to care, he did, but no matter how much he tried to force it…he couldn’t. And he felt bad about that. Especially when Isabel nodded and leaned forward, oohing and aahing at everything.
If what Jackson suspected about Bobby was true, then Bobby had left all the planning for this wedding to Isabel. So, if Jackson was bored, it would probably hurt her feelings. Which he didn’t want to do.
“Pick three, and I will bring you a taste test,” Pierre boomed, smacking his hands down on the table.
Jackson jumped slightly as the noise startled him into alertness.
After Isabel rattled off three fillings, Pierre stood and left the room. After the kitchen door swung shut, Isabel whipped around and gave Jackson a sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shifting in her seat.
Jackson tried to ignore how her leg brushed against his, or the fact that his arm was resting next to hers. Her skin was warm and soft against his own, sparking all sorts of memories.
“For what?” Jackson asked as he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat in an attempt to create some space between them.
If Isabel noticed, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she fiddled with the strap of her purse. “For earlier. You know, out there.” She waved toward the counter.
Jackson followed her gaze and then realized what she was talking about. Their strange interaction with Pierre. Not wanting her to worry about that—and silently praying that Pierre would hurry up so they could get the heck out of there—Jackson just shrugged.
“No worries. I’ve already forgotten it.” He cleared his throat and threaded his hands together for something to do other than obsess about Isabel’s closeness.
Isabel shifted in her seat until she was staring at him. “It’s just that Pierre is determined that his wedding cakes only go to people truly in love. He’s weird and picky, but he makes amazing cakes.” The soft smile that appeared on her lips caused Jackson’s gaze to flick down to her perfect mouth.
Even now, he could remember what it felt like to get lost in her kiss.
Realizing that he was staring at her, he cleared his throat and forced his gaze upwards. A part of their earlier conversation floated back i
nto his mind. The part about Isabel and Bobby being soul mates.
Call him crazy, but he wanted to know. Did she really feel that way?
“Are you?” slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
It must have startled Isabel because her jaw dropped slightly as her lips parted. Her eyes were wide as she met his gaze. “Am I what?”
Well, he’d come this far, he might as well finish. “Truly in love with Bobby?” He brought his hand up and began wiping non-existent crumbs from the tabletop.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say, but he was pretty sure that whatever her answer was, he wasn’t going to like it.
When Isabel didn’t respond right away, Jackson peeked up at her. He could tell from the way her brows were furrowed and the way her lips were pinched that she was trying to decide what to say. Which seemed strange. Why was that a hard question?
Feeling awkward, sitting there in silence, Jackson leaned forward. “Isabel?” he asked.
That seemed to snap her from her trance. She blinked. “Of course,” she said, the words spilling from her lips. She shook her head and nodded. “Of course, I do. I love Bobby.” She stared at the table for a moment before she smiled over at him.
He didn’t know much about women, especially when it came to Isabel. For him, she’d been a mystery even back when they were dating. But he could always tell when she was lying.
Before he could prod her for more information, Pierre returned with small slices of cake. In between the layers were the fillings that Isabel had requested.
Isabel seemed completely content to eat and make small chat with Pierre, occasionally meeting Jackson’s gaze as he studied her.
Spending time with her had opened his eyes to so many things. One of them being that she was just as broken as he had been when he’d walked away from her eight years ago.
Maybe she hadn’t told her dad to reject him when he asked for her hand. Maybe that had just been her father interfering in her life. Jackson didn’t know the truth about what had happened on Isabel’s side of things. And maybe he wanted to change that.
“Which do you like?” Pierre’s voice was directed toward Jackson, pulling him from his thoughts.
Jackson glanced at the large baker and then down to the pieces of cake in front of him. Not being a sweet treats guy, Jackson just shrugged and pointed to the first one.
“The ganache?” Pierre asked.
Jackson nodded.
“I like that one too. Let’s switch to that,” Isabel said.
Pierre nodded and filled out a form. After Isabel signed it, he ushered them from the room, telling them he had cakes calling his name.
As they stepped outside, all the questions that Jackson had still burned in his mind. Walking over to the passenger door, he pulled it open and waited for Isabel to climb in.
He shut her door and jogged to the driver’s side, then he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine. He waited there with his hands on the steering wheel, trying to figure out just how to frame his questions.
He parted his lips and turned to see that Isabel was staring at her hands, tears brimming her lids. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to assault her with questions about her fiancé, so Jackson cleared his throat and his mind. There would be a time and place, but this wasn’t it.
Not when her quivering lip was causing his chest to squeeze.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, aching to lean over and take her into his arms. But that would be completely inappropriate, he reminded himself, so he kept his hands gripped together in his lap.
Isabel shook her head as she wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She glanced out the window for a moment before staring back down at her lap. “I’m so sorry. I’m a mess.” She motioned toward her face.
Jackson leaned over, praying there was tissues in the glove compartment. Thankfully, there was a box. He pulled a few out and handed them to her.
She took them and dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. After she was done, she cleared her throat and then turned, giving him a forced smile. “Thanks,” she said as she blew out her breath.
Not sure what to do, Jackson just nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”
Isabel dabbed her eyes again and then rested her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Jackson shrugged. “I’ve seen you cry before.”
Isabel studied him for a moment as if the same memories that were floating through his mind were floating through hers. “Yeah, I guess you have.”
Trying to break up some of the tension, Jackson entwined his fingers and pushed them out like he was cracking his knuckles. “It’s not something I can’t handle.”
Isabel dropped her jaw and swatted at his arm. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad.”
Jackson returned her shocked expression. “Not that bad? Remember Tickles?”
Isabel narrowed her eyes. “I knew you were going to bring that up. He was my turtle, and you took him for a swim in the lake. What was I supposed to do?”
“We found him.”
Isabel laughed. It was light and genuine. And it felt amazing to hear. No memory could compare to that sound.
Not sure if he should be honest, Jackson decided to confess to her the truth about the story. “Or we found what I thought was Tickles.”
Isabel whipped her gaze over to him. “What?” Then, as realization snuck in, she swatted him again. “You didn’t! You swore it was Tickles.”
Jackson laughed and moved to protect his arm from her attacks. “Hey, I was ten. What did I know about finding turtles?” Then he leaned in toward her. “He was your turtle. I figured you’d know if it was him.”
Isabel’s laugh subsided to a soft smile as she mulled over his words. Then she nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really know either. It was just sweet that you cared enough to lie.” She peeked over at him through her long lashes.
Feelings burned inside Jackson’s chest and stomach. Feelings that he’d told himself didn’t exist anymore.
Which was another lie.
Right now, sitting next to Isabel, hearing her laugh, and feeling her gaze on him, he realized that he’d never really gotten over her.
Too bad she was already taken.
Chapter Eight
The silence in the car took on a more relaxed vibe. For the first time since she was reunited with Jackson, Isabel felt as if she could breathe. And if she were honest with herself, it was quite refreshing.
This was what she remembered. This peace she felt whenever she was around Jackson. It was like all of her troubles didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was Jackson and her.
She closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to focus her mind back to their earlier conversation about Bobby. Why had she hesitated? Why had her body picked that moment to have a major brain spasm?
She loved Bobby. She did.
But why didn’t she remember that the moment Jackson asked her if she truly loved him?
Because…maybe it wasn’t true.
Things with Jackson were becoming more relaxed. The strange tension that had existed between them since he’d come back into her life was dissipating—if only for a moment.
Even though they were fleeting, it was in those moments that she remembered why she had loved him.
He was easy to be around and laughing with him was as natural as breathing.
Isabel let a soft smile emerge as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared outside. The warmth of the sun shone down on her skin. She tapped her fingers on her arm in time with the ballad that was playing on the radio.
“Huh,” Jackson said softly.
Isabel turned to see him staring out of the windshield. “What?” she asked, moving to follow his line of sight.
Coming up on the right-hand side of the car was Patsy’s Parlor. They’d hung out at the ice cream joint basically every weekend night the summer before their senior year. It was quaint and sweet, with the best h
omemade ice cream ever.
“I wonder if my picture is still up on the wall,” Jackson said as he flipped on his blinker and pulled into the parking lot. There weren’t too many cars since it was still late morning.
The summer before Jackson left, he’d consumed a twenty-scoop ice cream concoction in fifteen minutes. Patsy was so excited that she’d started a board, boasting that whoever could finish in twenty minutes would get the ice cream for free and their picture on the wall.
Back then, no one had beaten Jackson’s time.
Isabel shrugged. She hadn’t really had time to breathe these past few years much less go out to get ice cream. “I’m not sure.”
Jackson turned the engine off and pulled his keys from the ignition. He smiled at Isabel. “Let’s go find out.”
Isabel stared at him and then looked down at her watch. As much fun as it sounded to eat her weight in ice cream, she wasn’t sure she had the time. Suddenly, Jackson’s hand wrapped around her watch. “You have the time,” he said, giving her an encouraging smile.
She raised her gaze up to meet his. It was soft, and his smile was so familiar that she felt her breath hitch in her throat.
It was a look she’d never been good at saying no to. So she found herself nodding. “Okay,” she said as she grabbed hold of the door handle.
Jackson quickly fell into step with her as they started in the direction of the parlor. It felt so natural, walking side by side with him.
It was something they’d done so many times in the past, and it felt just like it had back then. Their arms brushed against each other, and warmth cascaded up Isabel’s arm and across her body. She shivered, even though it was a balmy seventy degrees.
Isabel crossed one arm over her stomach, wrapping her hand around her elbow. That would keep her from swinging her arms and risk touching Jackson again.
His touch confused her, and she needed all her wits about her if she was going to spend the afternoon with Jackson.
When they got to the front door, Jackson leaned forward to open the door at the same time she did. This time, her arm brushed his entire chest, and she felt him hover just behind her. Like he was moments from touching her.
Her Ex: The Braxton Brothers Series Page 6
