Jackson's Love (Lake Hope Book 3)

by Mel Walker

  He steals a glance toward Dana as if expecting her to rescue him. When she merely nods for him to comply, my body finally relaxes.

  As Tyrone slips past me into the woods, I motion for Dana to stay on the hammock. Her brow furrows in confusion as her eyes narrow, and her head shakes side to side slightly. She is bracing for a fight.

  “I’m not dealing with any more of this bullshit.” She has already built up a head of steam and is firing it all in my direction. “I’m tired of walking on eggshells between the two of you. Grow up, Jackson.”

  I’ve been on the opposite end of these types of outbursts, so I let her blow off her steam before replying.

  “I’m not going to be made to feel guilty because I shared a laugh with a man who once meant something to me. It has nothing to do with you, Jackson. With us, if there really is an us.”

  She is going volcanic, but her ashes never reach me. She fails to realize that the more agitated she becomes, the more the hammock swings. I bite my lip to suppress the laugh.

  “I just told Tyrone the exact same thing. He has no claims on me, and he needs to keep his stank-ass attitude to himself whenever he sees me with you. Enough already.”

  I raise my hands in surrender. “You are right, Dana.” My words cause her to stop in her tracks. She gives me a look of surprise. “Honestly,” I add, and she relaxes. “It gets to me that he is clearly manipulating the situation—manipulating you.”

  I approach the hammock and hold the edge, stopping its movement. I extend a hand as Dana reaches forward; it slips in like the perfect fit I know it is. The tingle of electricity reminds me of how special what we have truly is.

  “Manipulating? Don’t you think I know that? Give me some credit, Jackson. I love the fact that you feel a need to protect me, but I don’t need you to save me.”

  The way she says the word need hits me hard. I do feel a sense of protection for Dana. I stepped in to be the chef because I want this retreat to be a success. I’ve always supported everything she’s done because I want to see her dreams come true. I want to see her happy. Seeing her succeed, seeing her happy, brings me joy. I can’t deny the connection.

  Tyrone being here threatens all of this. I thought I needed to protect her, when all she needs is someone to support her. She is the true badass. All I must do is watch her back, to be here for her.

  “You’re right.” It’s the second time I’ve surrendered to her, and it feels good. “I trust you, Dana. It’s not that. I care for you beyond words. You have my support, you have my heart, you have me.”

  Her hands slip from mine in what I suspect is disbelief. She tilts her head, and I can see in her eyes that I am wrong. It’s not disbelief I see in her eyes, but adoration. By pushing aside Zach and letting Jackson speak, I’ve somehow stumbled upon the words she’s always needed to hear.

  My chest fills with warmth, and I don’t want this moment to end. “I want to be the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one to swing in the hammock with you, Dana. I want to be the one. I don’t trust him, but I trust you with everything I am. What can I do to help?”

  Her eyes mist over, those gorgeous dark eyes sparkling with the fading sunlight sneaking through the trees. Her hand slips back into mine as she steps backward, pulling me.

  “We can start with a swing in the hammock.” Her tentative smile causes me to chuckle out loud. She leaps backward, both feet kicking up in the air. A blind jump onto the hammock, knowing the move will cause all sort of chaos and movement. Her trust in me is evident as she knows I will steady it. I will stomp away the danger. I will steady her world. I am here.

  The smirk on her beautiful face confirms my thoughts. She pats the hammock, the invitation filled with so many messages.

  I slip on easily as she rolls toward me, my arm wrapping around her shoulder. She looks up from the top of her lids with a sprinkle of a smirk. I can’t help but lean down and place a kiss on her forehead.

  “What else can I do to help?” I’m learning. Learning not to assume that I know what is right for her. Learning that I’m not a mind reader. Learning that I don’t automatically know how she sees the world. It’s something so simple, yet it has taken me all my life to realize it.

  Her index finger traces a line down the center of my chest as the playfulness in her voice fades away. “Stop being a jealous boyfriend and just treat Tyrone as you would any other guest. He and I have history, but it’s ancient. One day, Jackson, that’s all I’m asking. Play nice for one day, and this will be over.”

  “I’ve smoked beef longer than that. I guess I can do that.” Her warm hands lie flat on my stomach as she lowers her head onto my chest.

  She purrs as she listens to my heartbeat. I close my eyes and enjoy the peace and joy of the moment. “You feel it, right?” I whisper.

  I expect her to be confused by my question, but she’s not. We are on the same page. “I always have.”

  I won’t assume, not anymore. The words flow from my heart to my lips. “I love you, Dana.”

  Her arm tightens into a hug across my chest as she places a tender kiss on my chest. “I know, Jackson. I’ve always known.”

  I close my eyes as her finger traces hearts on my chest. “It feels nice to finally be on the same page.”

  She doesn’t say the three words, and I realize I don’t need to hear them. She has been screaming these words to me for months. After every class it is me she races to see in the cafe. When she took her biggest professional leap with the retreat, it was me who she walked the town with every day changing out flyers that didn’t need to be switched. It’s clear to me now it was an excuse to spend time with me. And now, she is here with me, swinging in a hammock, drawing hearts on my chest, and loving life.

  I open my eyes and stare up. I ignore the dark clouds in the sky and close my eyes once again. I don’t want to think about the possibility of rain spoiling this moment. We are untouchable.

  Our self-imposed barriers are finally down. We are on the same page, we are in love, and nothing can stop us.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dana

  A droplet of rain drips from the tree above and breaks the magical trance. I lift my head off Jackson’s warm chest, his arm still wrapped around me.

  His heartfelt words, I love you, have taken permanent residence in my heart. It was there all along.

  I’ve kept love at bay because a part of me told me I wasn’t ready for it while another part questioned whether I deserved it. Even with all the barriers I’ve placed around my heart, Jackson found his way. His tender, patient approach chipped away at each excuse, every barricade, until all that remains is my heart.

  His actions speak louder than any words. For months he’s been there. Supporting me, looking out for me, caring for me. He has his own issues, yet he confronted them and dropped the pretense, dusting off his own personal demon in Chef Zach in order to rescue me and my dream.

  I place a tender kiss on his chest as two more raindrops land on the back of my head. “Hey, Jackson.” The sweet whisper—our whispered greeting—causes his face to light up like a kid at Christmas.

  He stirs as the hammock reacts. A gust of wind whips up. “Ready to head back? The rain is picking up.”

  “Only because we must.”

  We separate as we tumble out the hammock. There is no graceful way to exit. As he covers the hammock in plastic, I watch him with new eyes. A sense of pride fills me as tears begin to build up. One escapes down my cheek just as he turns toward me.

  “Is that rain on your…” He pauses as his blue eyes soften. He steps to me, the pad of his thumb tracing the path of the teardrop. “Is everything…”

  I wrap my arms around him once again and direct him to the path back to the lodge. “Everything is fine. More than fine, Jackson. I’m just feeling overwhelmed by the moment. All this…”

  He places a soft kiss on the top of my head. “I know what you mean. Once this storm paces and we finish dinner, can we go back on the lake
tonight? There is something I must tell you. I should have last night but…”

  I let my hand slip from his hip to his rear. I squeeze it, forcing his words to halt.

  “Hey, what was that?”

  A giggle escapes my lips. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”

  His hand slips from my waist into the back pocket of my jeans, and he gives a slight squeeze. “Not nearly as long as I’ve been waiting to do this.”

  Our feet halt, and we turn to face each other. His hands quickly frame my face and I look up at him, my eyelashes catching raindrops. “How about we skip the boat tonight? I have other plans for us.”

  He leans down and places a warm kiss on my lips. “I wonder what that could be.”

  “Let’s say Mia may have left a certain uniform with me. Along with a pair of pom-poms.”

  His stormy eyes shift, their color darkening with the sky. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. “If you are the cheerleader, I’ll play the quarterback. You know what that means…”

  I punch a fist to the sky. “Someone’s scoring tonight.”

  The sky opens, the rain transforming from drizzle to a downpour in a matter of seconds.

  Jackson swoops me up in his arms, our lips locked. I wrap my legs around him and devour the man. Rain soaks my back, but I ignore it. I ignore the storm, I ignore the chill from the wind, I ignore everything because I have the one thing in my arms that I refuse to ever ignore again.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jackson

  “What you got cooking over here, Chef?” Aaron asks he puts the final touches on our final dinner prep. He’s pointing to a stack of peppers and onions that are sautéing on the grill top.

  I bite my tongue to prevent my initial thoughts from escaping. “Just a little something I’m cooking up for our guest from Philly. I figured I’ll give him a special final-night dinner send-off.”

  With the mention of a guest from Philly, Aaron takes a tentative step in my direction, “Oh my, I can’t remember the last time I had a Philly cheesesteak. You got enough for two?” The corners of his lips practically fill with drool.

  I laugh. “I wish I knew you were a fan. I’ve only prepared beef for one. I think it’s the first time I’m using red meat all week.” Aaron’s been killing it all week, and my mind races to ways I can begin to show my appreciation. “I can thaw some out and whip one up for you post-dinner, if you want.” It’s the least I can do.

  “Not necessary. Thanks. Something tells me we’ll get an opportunity to cook again in the future. Rain check.” He approaches and we pound our fists together.

  It’s been a real pleasure working with him this week. We wisely included our breakfast prep with dinner, so there isn’t a lot of work to do in the morning. We’ll be able to concentrate on resetting the kitchen and checking inventory and reorder. With any luck, I’ll be able to race off to the airport moments after the last van pulls out tomorrow.

  I pull the toasted bread from the top shelf of the oven and begin to assemble the sandwich. “Do you mind getting Tyrone? I figured he can eat here in the kitchen with us tonight as opposed to being isolated in the office.”

  Aaron hesitates. “Really, Chef? What did I miss?”

  My instinct is to keep Tyrone isolated in the office prison, for if he makes a snide remark about my cooking, I may not be responsible for my actions, especially with so many knives around. I push away the thought as the image of a beaming Dana replaces it. She is more than worth the minor discomfort of dealing with Tyrone for one meal.

  I wink at Aaron. “Just trying to be a better man. Now go before I change my mind.” I plate the sandwich, along with a side of hand-cut fries from the fryer. This is easily the unhealthiest meal I’ve prepared all week.

  Aaron returns with Tyrone in tow just as I’m slipping the plate on the corner of the table in the kitchen. Aaron directs him to the chair and I wipe my hands on my hand towel.

  Tyrone is wearing jeans, a tight T-shirt, and tennis sneakers. It’s the most casual he’s looked since he’s arrived. His body language, however, tells a different story. “What’s this?” Tyrone eyes the plate with weary steps and skeptical eyes.

  “If I have to tell you, then I will question if you’re really from Philly.” The words are meant to be light and humorous, but even I can hear the bite in them. I decide the less I say, the better. I slide a bottle of beer next to the plate. I hand Aaron his water bottle and place my foot on the chair next to Tyrone.

  Tyrone slips onto the chair and looks up at us, his eyes ping-ponging between Aaron and me. “I know what it is. I guess my question is why?” His brows furrow as he looks at the food with suspicion in his eyes.

  I try not to roll my eyes as I think of Dana. “I figured since you came all this way, I’d give you a taste of home. That’s it.”

  “Enjoy,” Aaron says before walking away to finish the dinner prep. Class is scheduled to break any minute, and even though dinner is still thirty minutes away, we know several of the students will pop their head into the kitchen for early tastes.

  Tyrone lifts half of the sandwich and takes a deep inhale. “Smells about right.”

  I ignore his dig and remove my foot from the chair. “Hope you like it,” I say and turn to attend to dinner.

  I attempt to concentrate on the stove, stealing occasional glances in Tyrone’s direction. He has his back to me as he hunches over the sandwich. It’s a strange maneuver, almost like he doesn’t want anyone to see him eating. I shake my head. I can’t figure him out, and what I find more puzzling is how Dana ever hooked up with him.

  Just the thought of her conjures her up. She appears in the doorway, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead, a water bottle in hand and a smile on her face. She truly is meant to teach yoga; I’ve never seen anyone so in their zone. Her smile broadens when she spots Tyrone free from his office prison as her eyes take in what he’s eating.

  She nods toward him and walks directly to me. Her dark eyes sparkle in the kitchen light, a look of satisfaction and pride dissolving Tyrone’s snide remarks and the discomfort of these past few days.

  She places a sweet, unapologetic, I-don’t-care-who-sees kiss on my lips. It’s tenderness a counterbalance to the strength of her declaration. We are no longer sharing longing glances in the cafe, no longer flirting while putting up flyers, no longer dancing around what we both feel. She has lowered her barriers and is showing the world that she and I are a we.

  My chest fills with pride, protectiveness, and love. My hand finds its way to her hair. Rules be damned. I grip her hard and open my lips, my tongue now following her cue and dancing with hers as one.

  Aaron’s throat clearing breaks our spell. I don’t bother to look at him as my gaze only sees one thing, one person, all that matters to me.

  Dana giggles at the seriousness of my expression. “Thank you, Jackson, for making the Philly cheesesteak. Did he tell you that’s his favorite food in the world?”

  It takes me a moment to realize she is talking about Tyrone; I had already forgot that he even existed. I shake my head side to side. “He must’ve left that little factoid out. All good.”

  “Well, I’m proud of…” We’re interrupted by the sound of coughing.

  We both turn toward Tyrone, who pushes back violently from the table, bent over at the waist, his hand holding his mouth as the coughing increases. His hands swing from the chair to the table and back again, never contacting anything.

  “Oh my god, he’s choking,” Dana yells as she begins to race toward him. Tyrone raises a hand in her direction, halting her movement. I grab Dana by her elbow and pull her back toward me. I sense Aaron’s presence behind us.

  Tyrone spits out a blob of food onto the floor between us, the color forcing us to take a step back. Crimson red liquid oozes from the pile.

  Tyrone pushes up, standing erect finally. He points at me, his lips full of blood. “You! You did this.”

  I release Dana’s hand as she t
urns toward me. “What is he talking about, Jackson?”

  My head is swimming as Tyrone reaches into his mouth and digs for something on his inner jaw. He appears to have found it and lifts it up. “That bastard put glass in my food. He tried to kill me.” He spits a mouthful of blood in my direction as all eyes in the room are on me.

  “Jackson?” Dana pleads.

  This can’t be happening. My heart is racing, one glance from Dana nearly breaking me. “I…” I begin to explain and feel Aaron’s hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t say a word, Jackson. I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. I’m sorry, Dana.” Aaron steps around me, standing between Tyrone and me.

  I watch as that smidgen of hope that was in Dana’s eyes a moment ago fade away. “Jackson? Aaron? What’s going on?”

  “He’s tried to injure me.” The words come from Tyrone. “And he’s done it before.”

  Dana’s eyes soften, water building up by the second. “What is he talking about, Jackson? Please tell me it’s not true, please.” Her words scorch my heart as Aaron pushes me, cutting me off from replying.

  “I’m sorry, Dana, it’s true. I can’t believe it either.” Aaron twists me away from Dana, his hands pushing my shoulders. “Chef, I’m sorry, but I have to relieve you of your duties. I can’t believe I thought you had it under control. Please leave the kitchen. The students will be down here any moment, and I need to clean up this mess.”

  Dana is frozen in disbelief as Aaron races to the pantry to grab cleaning supplies. Tyrone is standing, Dana’s back to him. He wipes his lip with the sleeve of his shirt as he smiles in my direction, the red stain on his teeth making him appear like a vampire. Only in this case I am the prey.

  “Dana,” I begin and point. Tyrone holds his mouth just as she turns. “It’s not true. He’s lying to you.”

  The water in her eyes evaporates from the heat of anger that appears. “Enough!” Her shout is enough to stop me cold. It’s filled with hurt, disappointment, and anger all at the same time.