Jackson's Love (Lake Hope Book 3)

by Mel Walker

  I click off from my phone, having just checked in with the van from Cambria. They are on time and tracking well. We are about a half hour out from reaching the lodge for day one of the retreat, and I can’t imagine a more flawless start.

  My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen on the car dashboard and exhale when I see my mom’s name. I click over. “Hey, Mom, I’m in the car. Is everything all right?” I pause as our calls have become infrequent over the last year.

  I hear papers shuffling in the background before her voice clears. “Yeah. I just wanted to wish you luck. Can’t a mother do that? Your little yoga thing starts today, right?”

  I blow out a breath at her mention of my “little yoga thing”. I count to five before responding, “Thank you, Mom. Yes, it does. I’m on my way there now.”

  “And these people pay you to just stretch on the floor? You know, Mrs. Johnson says they only charge like thirty dollars a month at Gymboree for her grandchild. Are you making enough to live on?”

  I roll my eyes. Her complete lack of not just knowledge but in any interest in learning about the profession I’ve chosen is frustrating. “Well, the price goes up with age, Mom. For example, if you ever took one of my classes, by law I would need to charge you seventy dollars for the first five minutes.”

  “Oh my, that is highway robbery, my lord.”

  I press mute on the steering wheel as I can no longer hold in the laugh.

  Her voice returns. “I had no idea. Anyway, I wanted to check the address. I’m sending something, you know… well, because.”

  My defenses shoot up and I unmute the phone. My mom has not been very supportive of my business, and especially not of my moving to Indiana to start it up, far away from nearly everyone I know. I’m curious to know why the sudden change. “I really don’t need anything, Mom. But I appreciate it. What were you looking to send?”

  “Well, I’ll just have to send it for you see.” She’s playing it coy, not a very good trait on her. I squeeze the steering wheel tight before responding.

  “You can just send it to the house, Mom. I’ll be back in a week.”

  “No,” she blurts. “I can’t send this to your house, that wouldn’t be right. You need to see it this week.”

  The van turns, and I twist the wheel to stay behind it. I need to focus on the road and the ten things I need to do the minute we arrive at the lodge. “Fine, can’t you check the email I sent with the flyer? It’s on my website too.”

  “Child, you know I don’t do all that computer stuff.”

  My mom has always been a technophobe. I don’t know how she even survives in today’s tech-savvy world. She’s only in her mid-fifties, but you’d think she was ninety by the way she avoids technology. “Fine, I’ll text you the address once I’m not driving.” I just need to get off this phone.

  “Thank you. Enjoy your vacation.”

  I bite my lip. This is not a vacation—it’s the opposite of a vacation. I disconnect and reach for the muffin, hoping to return to the joy it brings. As I take a bite, I realize it tastes different. Just like my relationship with my mom, what was once sweet is now bitter.

  The van pulls off the road about a hundred yards from the front entrance of the property. This is planned. I recall the very first time I came to the property, the mesmerizing tranquil vision of Lake Hope instantly hypnotizing. This retreat is all about self-care, reconnecting with our inner selves and nature. So, I want to start off the tempo this way and let the women know that we will be taking our time. Purposeful intent while appreciating each moment.

  I park my car next to the van and step out. Most of the women have already made their way toward the lake edge, some with phones out but most, thankfully, just taking it all in. Being present.

  Carrie is standing next to the van, her long blonde hair flowing in the gentle breeze. She spots me and immediately approaches. When I designed the retreat, it was with students like Carrie in mind. I am eternally grateful that she was the first student to sign up, a gesture that will stay with me forever. She is staring at the lake with a smile on her face, joy apparent.

  “I tried to warn you, Carrie.” The mention of her name causes her to turn in my direction.

  She takes two quick strides and leaps toward me. I have no choice but to catch her, our momentum causing us to spin. “I’m never leaving,” she shouts and punches an arm into the air.

  “I knew you’d love it. I had the same reaction the very first time I came. Feels good stepping out your comfort zone, right?” I’ve pushed her into taking more chances. She doesn’t realize the strength she possesses.

  She mouths a thank-you in my direction as her eyes light up, something over my shoulder catching her attention. I turn and smile. The second van from Cambria arrives right on time. “I’ll be right back,” I shout over my shoulder and walk toward the van.

  The doors swing open, and the occupants race out as if a start gun at a track meet had fired. After two hours in a van, they are giddy with freedom. The ladies skip past me, most giving me high fives and waves as they race toward the lake. I mentally count as they pass and come up short by one.

  I reach the van and nod to the driver. I step in and sigh with relief as I spot the last student. He is sitting in the middle row, his hands running through his hair. I snicker, recalling looking over the registration three times to confirm that a man signed up to the retreat. “Everything okay, Sanjeev?”

  He looks up, his dark black eyes snapping to me. A brilliant laugh escapes his mouth. “Hey, Dana. I just need a minute. I was just grilled by a dozen women for two hours. Is it okay if I sleep in the van tonight?”

  I laugh. Sanjeev, like most men, didn’t really think through what it meant to be surrounded by all women for an extended period. I’m sure he had a different vision, one fueled by unrealistic movies and music videos created by men. He’s barely survived the first two hours. I have no sympathy for him—at all.

  “I hope you’re ready. I have another van full of curious women who probably have similar questions. Come on out.” I turn and exit the van and hear him shuffle behind me.

  Sanjeev is a regular in Cambria and from what I know of him, a nice guy. Originally from India, he is also an Indiana transplant, a career choice for him.

  He, however, is a man. And, on top of that, a single man. So, when he signed up, I had to change my carefully constructed room assignments. The rooms were sold as doubles, with the expectations that I’d have all women. That had originally left me with the largest and most famous suite on the property—the Forever suite.

  Named after the romantic suite from the movie, it sits on the top floor and overlooks the lake. The original chef, Lucas, and his brother, lived only one town over and didn’t require accommodations. However, with the addition of Jackson and Aaron, I had to scramble to open two additional rooms. Sanjeev may be stressed right now, but he’ll get over it the minute he sees his room.

  I walk down to the edge of the lake, where the women from van one are introducing themselves to van two. All eyes twist in my direction, their gaze flying over my shoulder as the women from van one take in Sanjeev. He is an attractive man—thin frame, perfect for yoga, yet very toned. He’s wearing a tank top and white shorts, which contrast nicely with his dark skin. The women from van two pair up with the first van, and whispers and gossip permeate the air. Smirks, giggles, and unapologetic ogling follow. I hope Sanjeev is ready for part two of his inquisition.

  Sanjeev shifts his shoulders back and plants on a smile. His normally extroverted persona returns as he races ahead and jumps into the middle of the group of women. He barks out loudly, “I am Sanjeev, ladies, and I’d like to get a hug and a name from each of you.”

  I giggle at the ridiculousness of the scene. He extends his hands out, and the women line up. It looks like a scene from The Bachelor. I’ve seen that show too many times, and besides, I’m not in the market.

  The thought catches me by surprise, and I look toward the lodge, hoping
to catch a glimpse of Jackson, the one man who makes me question my status.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dana

  I stand in the center of a circle, two dozen smiling yogis staring at me. Everyone is wearing Yogi’s Choice T-shirts with name tags. I’ve dreamed of this moment, and I can’t believe it’s finally here.

  Day one of my retreat. The women are all beaming, their customized name tags prominently displayed on their chests. My eyes scan the circle and stop at Sanjeev. His name tag is placed on his white shorts—his way-too-short running shorts. The white background of the tag draws glances down against his black shorts. He knows exactly what he is doing.

  Already I spot several of the women stealing glances at his name tag, repeatedly. There aren’t enough letters in his name to warrant the length of their stares.

  “So, does everyone understand the game?” I attempt to regain their attention.

  All I get are blank looks. I doubt the women have heard a word I’ve said. I glance at Sanjeev, who is loving the attention. He winks in my direction; he wants me to know he knows he is the source of their noncompliance.

  “I think one or two of us would benefit from you repeating it, Dana,” he says toward me. His dark eyes twinkle with humor and catch a few embarrassing blushes from the women.

  Two can play this game. “Yes, when we are surrounded by such beauty, we can be easily distracted.” I toss the rubber ball that I’ve been holding at Sanjeev. I point to center of the circle. “Since you were paying such close attention, Sanjeev, why don’t you explain the game. Something tells me the women won’t have any challenges paying attention now.”

  Sanjeev squeezes the ball and steps forward. His body language is relaxed as if being surrounded by a group of women hanging on his every word is a daily occurrence.

  He bounces the ball and catches it without looking down. “Whoever holds the ball gets to ask a question. They toss it to anyone else in the circle, and that person must answer without thinking.” Sanjeev extends his arm and gestures around the circle. “The ball holder gets to ask the next question and toss it around, and so on and so on. Did I get it right?”

  “You left out one part,” I chime in.

  “Oh, right. The best part. If the person doesn’t answer or provides an answer which everyone knows to be false, they must perform a dare.” Sanjeev points to the jar I’m holding up. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  I spot a few nods and swap places with Sanjeev. He bounces the ball in my direction. “I’ll kick it off.” I toss the ball to Erica. “Place of birth.”

  “Killington, Vermont.” Erica smiles, pleased to have a softball question. She ponders for a second before tossing the ball toward a lady with a Brittany name tag. “Coke or Pepsi?”

  I smile. I’ve done this icebreaker a few times. The initial questions always start the same, simple. With this group, I’ll have to be on my toes.

  The ball makes three more turns before it ends up in Carrie’s hands. I lean forward as I’ve spotted her eyeing the ball on each rotation, practically begging for someone to toss it her way.

  “Roses,” she answers innocently enough. Her smirk gives away her intent, the ball tossed high right to Sanjeev. “Age you lost your virginity?”

  His laugh echoes off the lake as he catches the ball in one hand. “Finally.”

  Agnes takes a step toward the center of the circle to capture my attention. “Dana, is that question appropriate?”

  I spot a few of the women cutting their eyes at Agnes. It’s day one, and I decide to let this play out. “This is your retreat, and we are all adults. You don’t have to answer, but trust me, you don’t want to dip into the dare jar.”

  With my response, all eyes snap back to Sanjeev.

  His eyes glisten in the fading sun as he licks his lips. “Fifteen and sixteen.”

  The other women appear perplexed, but I already know where he is going. Carrie paints the picture for everyone else. “Midnight birthday nookie, nice.”

  His lips rise into a full-on smile. “I wouldn’t say nice, but I’ve come a long way since.”

  Agnes squeals, “Oh my,” as the ball flies back across the circle.

  It makes its way back to Carrie, his question arriving at the same time. “Foreplay or right to it?”

  “Asking for a friend?” This is a side of Carrie I’m unfamiliar with. More daring, less tentative. It’s a good look.

  “Something like that,” he returns.

  “If your friend is anything like you, I’d say right to it.” The whistle from the women drowns out whatever Sanjeev mutters.

  I look at Carrie with a newfound perspective. I overhear quiet, reserved Kelsie, who is standing next to her, whisper, “Toss it to me, I have a question.”

  Kelsie is the sweetest person in the entire world. She and Carrie often go to the cafe together after class. However, Carrie ignores her, her gaze speaking volume. She only has eyes for Sanjeev as she tosses the ball back to him, the two of them playing a private game of catch. “In a bed or…” She points to the tree line that wraps around the property. “The woods.”

  He catches the ball and howls toward the sky. His wolf call is so practiced, I imagine this isn’t the first time he’s been asked that question. “Under the stars, of course.”

  They don’t try to hide the fact that they are flirting and making plans in front of the entire class. “What time?” His question is sent before the ball.

  Introverted Kelsie steps in front of Carrie and intercepts the ball. She doesn’t bother to turn toward Carrie, her eyes burning a path at Sanjeev. “Midnight,” she replies as she flashes that “all is fair in love and war” look. “Thong or commando?”

  I’ve never seen a game devolve so quickly. If I don’t step in, within three more tosses this will turn into a scene from Lord of the Flies or Eyes Wide Shut. I can’t afford either to break out on my first day.

  I leap into the air and snatch the ball. I roll my eyes and shoot an apologetic glance to Agnes. She had the foresight to see where this was headed before me.

  “Maybe Agnes had a point. Why don’t we take a break? Go and freshen up. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. We’ll pick up this game in the morning, but first, I think I will need to revise the rules.”

  With that, the group begins to disperse. But not before Kelsie crosses in front of Carrie, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “I think since he likes to be direct, I’ll go commando. Ta-ta for now.”

  She waves and skips away. I have to reassess my take on every woman out here. We are not in Destiny Falls anymore.

  I turn and spot Sanjeev. He is surrounded by three women who are all talking over each other in his direction. He stands a half head taller than them, and I have a clear view of his eyes. They, however, aren’t directed toward me but are focused on Little Miss Red Skipping-hood, who apparently not only served Carrie in front of everyone but has shown a mixture of the good girl with the bad-behavior capabilities to grab Sanjeev’s attention.

  I squeeze the rubber ball and head to my clipboard. I need to rethink every breakout exercise for the rest of the week. Once again, a man has turned my world upside down.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jackson

  It’s only been a day, but already I can sense a shift in the kitchen whenever Dana is near. An air of serenity floats from the ceiling like a warm summer shower, washing away my usual frenetic kitchen energy. It’s a welcome salve to a long-standing issue I’ve always had. There is tunnel vision and there is focus, and then there is where Chef Zach normally resides—the edge of insanity.

  Here I am different, and I already know the reason why.

  Dana.

  And although he’s too professional to say anything, I know Aaron appreciates the reprieve as well. His previously icy “Yes, Chef,” responses are now being delivered with genuine smiles and laughs. He’s even gotten the nerve to request we alternate our music playlist, his filled with acoustic guitar and acapell
a. His musical taste, just like his skills, runs deep and varied.

  I check the croutons that are baking in the oven and I sense her presence once again. It’s an addiction that I chase. I sneak a glance underneath my arm and close the oven door. She’s leaning in the doorway, staring, her slip-on sneakers crossed at the ankles. If I’m not mistaken, she is checking out my rear. The temperature rises, and I’m not sure if it’s from the oven or from her gaze.

  I decide to give her a show by leaning into the oven, reaching with the towel to shake the pan, the sound of the croutons shuffling filling the kitchen.

  “I think you’ve got them.” The voice is filled with sarcasm and grit, a great combination on her lips.

  My hands go to my hips as I stand up and turn toward her. “Did you enjoy the show?”

  I expect a chuckle or a smart retort, but all she does is scratch her head and walk toward me as if she never heard my question. “Is everything okay, Dana?”

  “What? Yeah. Why?” she mutters as she steps to one of the tables. It holds the prepared items for the salad. Dana dips her hand in and grabs a cucumber slice and takes a bite. “Don’t mind me.”

  I kick out a stool for her to sit, knowing she needs to unload whatever she is carrying.

  I work around her as she watches me for a beat before speaking. “It’s just that, I just ran an introduction exercise, you know, an icebreaker. I have two groups from two different towns and want them to get to know each other. I’ve never had any issues before, but today the women all seem to have lost their minds because there is a man in the group.” She snaps a baby carrot in half, and I imagine she wishes it was whoever upset her.