by Mel Walker
He finally speaks. “You are such a beautiful vision. How…” He doesn’t have to finish the question as we both answer through laughs, “Aaron.”
I repeat the line which should be printed on a T-shirt by now. “He finds things for a living.”
Jackson just nods. If he’s upset that Aaron outed him, he doesn’t seem upset. I don’t want him to dwell on it, so I jump in. “I’m sorry, Jackson, for everything.”
“I kind of got the message with the balloons, with you coming to LA, with all of this.” He places a tender kiss on my lips. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the scent of this man. “And by the way, what is all of this?”
I push up onto my elbows and point out to the darkened studio. “Amy,” I begin as the lights flicker down, a warm light remaining on the stage, the sound of footsteps coming out of the darkness. “You remember Amy? She was assistant director on Forever.”
Amy’s voice comes through the darkness before we can spot her. “After the movie, we recreated the suite for some post-production reshoots,” she explains as she steps onto the set. Jackson begins to rise, but Amy raises her arms, pausing his movement. “Don’t get up. Nice to meet you, Jackson. Dana, I’m going to head out. I have an office on the lot. It’s only a few minutes away. Buzz me after you guys catch up. Take all the time you need.”
It’s my turn to begin to rise, and Amy repeats her gesture, forcing me to stay on the bed.
“Stay. I’m out. Catch you later,” she says as she turns and heads to the exit.
“You planned all of this?” Jackson says as he pulls me to his chest. His tongue traces a path up from my neck, stopping at my earlobes, tender nibbles distracting me.
“Aaron once again. He knew of the set from Amy. Once he heard I was coming out this way, he called Amy and made the arrangements.” I toss my head back to allow Jackson easy access, and he obliges. His kisses increase in their intensity as he works his way down to my chest.
As much as I want to enjoy the moment, I know there is still some unpleasantries we must deal with.
I push up to a seated position as Jackson’s hands lift off me, his body freezing. “Is this too much?” His gentleness warms me.
“Not nearly enough,” I whisper and watch his eyes fill once again with desire. “But—” The blocker word does its job, and he freezes once again. “—I have to say something.”
He scoots up to a seated position, matching mine. His fingers strum a beat across my leg.
“I’m sorry about everything, Jackson. I had no idea Tyrone would ever go that far to get between us.” With the mention of Tyrone’s name, I sense a shift in the room, a chill replacing the warmth.
“Between us?” he says as if I misspoke. “Dana, this was never about us. Tyrone did this to get to you. He wants you back.”
I nod. “It was never going to happen, Jackson. He’s my past, and I made it clear to him. I’m here for you, Jackson.”
“But you dismissed me, Dana, even after I told you to your face that I didn’t do it.”
This isn’t how I pictured this trip. In my head, once Jackson saw how far I’ve come, he’d melt in my arms. That isn’t happening. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. You can see why trust may be a challenge for me, especially when it comes to men.”
“Men. Don’t loop me in with Tyrone—don’t ever do that. This is about us. What have I ever done for you not to trust me?”
His face twitches with the question, and I think he already knows the answer. I step in anyway. “Let’s see. How about we start with something simple like your name. Or how about when I asked you about your past, whether there was anything else I needed to know you said no. Should I continue?”
He shakes his head, my point made. “Okay, but you believed Tyrone over me.”
I don’t want to use his words against him, that this isn’t about Tyrone, so I take a different tack. “He was the one standing there bleeding. I had no clue he’d go to such an elaborate extreme to prove a point. Surely you can see it from my point of view?” I don’t know if I’m making headway, but we need to get off this subject quickly. “It’s behind us, Jackson. Can we talk about us now? Our relationship, our future? We’d promised we would after the week ended.”
“So, you still want an us?” His words cool my chest. How could he even formulate that thought after I flew halfway across the country?
“Do you?” I challenge.
His shoulders relax, finally. His features soften as his eyes glaze over. His ocean-blue eyes darken with desire, the look warming every part of me. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Those five simple words mean the world to me. They erase all doubt in my heart. He places a hand on my knee, and a tingle races up my leg.
“From the moment you walked into the coffee shop months ago, Dana, I’ve been infatuated with you. I felt a special connection from day one. The more I found out about you, the more time we spent together, my feelings only grew. You are a wonder to see, and I feel like the most honored person in the world to have witnessed it.” He’s staring down at his feet as he continues. “That early infatuation grew, and it evolved with our relationship to respect, to awe, to being crazy about you.” His chuckle causes a reaction in me that I can’t withhold.
“Awww.”
The utterance causes him to look up, his look pinning me in place as my hand rises to my chest. “However, this past week changed everything for me, Dana. It proved to me that my heart has been correct all along. I love you, Dana. So, when you ask if I think there is an us, the answer is there isn’t a world out there where an us doesn’t exist. You are loved, Dana, today and always.”
I have no words as his gaze fills with heat. There are words to be said, but I know above all that it is time for action. I lean forward and reach for him, my hands landing behind his neck and I pull him toward me. Our lips crash together, our building lust exploding in hungry kisses. His hand flows down my back and land on my hips as he lifts me up and pulls me onto his lap. My hands frame his face as I lay kiss after kiss all over it. I’m no longer able control myself. I release the one thought that I’ve been fighting, that I feared sharing because it would expose my inner self and place myself in the position of trusting once again.
I no longer care and know what my heart is feeling. It’s not only clear to me, but it’s the right thing and this is the right moment. “I love you, Jackson.”
The kisses halt as his finger under my chin as pushes my head up to gaze into his eyes. “You don’t have to say it because I did.”
I blink away tears of joy. “That’s not the reason. I flew all this way to tell you and show you how I feel. I love you, Jackson. You are the man I want to build a future with. You are the man of my dreams. You are the man of my heart. I want an us. I need an us. I love us. Why are you out here in LA? Please tell me you aren’t moving out to LA. You can’t?”
Fear races through me as I wait for his response. “Never.” He laughs as if I made a joke. “This town is too strange even for me.”
My victory is short-lived.
“However,” he begins, and the fact that he removes his hand from my knee has me concerned. “I’m in a cooking competition for the Food Network. But I stormed out of there earlier. I realized as much as I love cooking, I love you more.”
I place my hand in his. “A big part of me loves to hear that, but another part of me knows about dreams. You can’t toss away a dream, Jackson. What if you can have both?”
“I’m not sure that is possible. This past week rekindled my love of the kitchen. It truly is where I want to be, but I no longer want to be the asshole guy barking at my staff.”
I sense his conflict. “Then don’t. I saw the peaceful, calm, respectful chef in the lodge. Isn’t that who you want to be?” I challenge him. When he nods, I continue. “So be that person. Screw Chef Zach.”
He laughs at my easy solution. I know it’s not that simple, but I want him to see the answer clearly. The days of running from our troubles are beh
ind both of us.
“My agent might have spun my exit to the producer. The competition starts tomorrow for two days. You think you can stick around?”
I sense the relief in his body language as he leans forward and places a ghost of a kiss on my lips. “I don’t know. How’s your cooking on zero hours of sleep?” The question causes confusion in him. “I didn’t book a hotel room.” He scoots up toward me and his arms wrap around my shoulder. “I assume you have one and wouldn’t mind a guest?”
He answers in kisses.
“This right here is only the start of my apology tour. I have a few other things in mind, but it may keep us up all night. I hope that is all right. Mia may have packed my overnight bag with a few of her past sexy Halloween costumes.”
Jackson rolls off the bed and extends his hand toward me, pulling me up in one big tuck. “You are my treat. Let’s go. Text Amy, tell her thanks and we’ll talk to her tomorrow. The hotel is three miles from here. Let’s steal a pair of bicycles—they’ll be faster the LA traffic.”
He pulls me off the bed, off the stage, and down the darkened hall.
We push through the white door into the darkened LA evening. He kisses me underneath the red light. “With you by my side, I can’t lose. After the competition, I’m going to find my own place back in Destiny Falls.”
I bite my lower lip with joy, ready to scream. Jackson is willing to stay in Destiny Falls because of me. Just like Ryan did for Candice. Just like Aaron did for Mia. My mind races to triple-dating and sharing our stories.
“I would love that.”
“I love you, Dana,” he says as he pulls me into yet another kiss. “Mine. Here. Now,” he mutters.
I’m not sure the words are meant for me. “What did you say?”
A smirk appears on his face. “You’ve changed my life, Dana. You’ve changed me.” He sighs deeply. “When I first came to Destiny Falls, it was meant to be a reprieve for me. A reboot. I created a mantra to remind me. Not yours, not here, not now. Then I met you.”
I repeat his words. “Mine. Here. Now.” I add one more word and place my hand on his heart. “Forever.”
Dana
Epilogue - 2 Months Later
Jackson returns from my kitchen carrying a tray of sweet potato balls. It’s become my go-to treat for special occasions, and tonight is turning out to be special in a lot of ways.
I hold up the phone in his direction. “I have to go. The show is about to come back on, and my man is bringing me treats.”
“Ship some to me in Philly.” My sister’s voice fills the room as I lower the FaceTime screen to the tray of goodness.
“Already did,” Jackson adds as he slips on the couch next to me. I flip the phone around so that Ebony can see us both. Jackson’s arm wraps around my shoulder as he waves to the screen. “They should get there tomorrow. I can’t wait to finally meet you next month when you visit.”
“Me too. Good luck, Jackson.” Ebony’s smile fills the screen as she waves. We’ve come so far in the last few weeks. Our initial conversations were stilted and awkward. But the fact that she picked up every time was more than enough validation for me to push through the discomfort. If there was any saving grace from Tyrone’s ill attempts, it was reconnecting me to my sister. She’ll never say it, but I get the sense she has been seeking the guidance of a big sister, a job I abandoned.
Each week the conversations have become easier, the laughter more frequent, until last week when I finally had the courage to invite her to Destiny Falls. Time for me to share all of me with my amazing friends here.
It’s become the mantra between Jackson and me. No more secrets, no more walls.
We blow kisses at Ebony as we disconnect. “It’s back on,” I scream toward him like an excited ten-year-old. We are watching the finals of the Redemption Kitchen cooking competition.
Jackson had won the initial two-day competition. Over the next few weekends, the network conducted similar matches, and then last weekend they flew Jackson back out to LA for the matchup of each of the prior winners to determine the overall winner for the season.
It had been filmed a few days ago, but Jackson has refused to tell me the outcome. The fact that he wanted to watch it at my place with just the two of us as opposed to at the coffee shop with all our friends makes me suspect that he didn’t win, but he’s not given clues all day.
Over the few weeks of the competition, however, I have noticed him spending a lot more time with Aaron. Their friendship has blossomed since the retreat.
“Regardless of the outcome, honey, I’m proud of you.” I place a wet kiss on his cheek as he’s done an amazing job. He’s been rebranded “the yogi chef” not only for his calm spirit but because of his menu choices. He has gone against the grain and has cooked only healthy meals throughout the competition, many of them dishes he made during the retreat week.
I thought he had been so heads down in the kitchen during the retreat, but he admitted to me he had sneaked into several of the classes, hiding on the top balcony and observing. He would then practice many of the moves in the kitchen. He had even followed some of the reading assignments I had given the students and had picked up a fair amount of the yogi mentality. Much of this came out during one of the Q&A portions of the show where the chefs are asked for the origins of a dish.
His agent has done a fantastic job as well. The weeks Jackson has gone to LA, he’s been interviewed by magazines, food bloggers, podcasts. His Instagram has over a hundred thousand followers, and he finally has a Twitter account. He’s not shared with me his plans for the future, but I can sense it’s going to be big.
Our focus shifts back to the screen as the theme music starts up, and they zoom in on Jackson and the one remaining chef. He’s made it all the way to the final, and the moment of truth has arrived. The panel of judges all have their best poker faces as the host steps up to stove.
“Thank you for a spirited competition. But for one chef tonight, their fire goes out for the final time.” It’s a corny line which makes me laugh every episode, but tonight I’m bouncing on the tips of my toes to notice.
“Our champion and this year’s Redemption Chef is…” I squeeze Jackson’s hand so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t scream. “Chef Jackson. You are the champion.”
I leap off the couch, pumping my fist in the air. “Yes!” I’m jumping and bouncing on my toes like a kid on a sugar high and look at a smirking Jackson. “How? How can you be so calm? How can you keep such a secret to yourself for so long?”
He stands and pulls me into a bear hug. “Because I wanted to see your face when it was revealed. It is so worth the wait.”
He’s won the competition, but he’s looking at me as if I am the champion. “I’m so proud of you, Jackson. This is amazing. I love you.”
Our lips meet, his gentle mouth opening, welcoming me, warming my soul as our tongues dance the familiar dance. It’s been only a few weeks, but we have already mastered our moves.
“I did have to tell a few people about the outcome before tonight though.”
His words cause me to push back, our eyes a mere inch from one another. He told someone before he told me. “Who?”
“Aaron,” he responds.
I try to connect the dots. It clicks, and I nod. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. You might as well tell him before he finds out himself. You wouldn’t want him spoiling the surprise, right?”
His head shaking confuses me. “That’s not why I told him.”
“Then why?”
His smile brightens as his finger strokes my cheek. “Because I love you. This win isn’t the only surprise I have for you, and for that I needed Aaron.”
My brow lifts in confusion.
“Do you remember what the prize is for the show?”
I nod. “You get a pop-up restaurant for eight weeks anywhere in the United States.” I hear the words come across.
“Shit.” Aaron finds things for a living; over his career he’s traveled the wor
ld, oftentimes to the most remote of places. If he’s enlisted Aaron to help him find a spot for a restaurant, I know it’s going to be a special place that few people have ever heard of. “So, you’re going to be gone for eight weeks with the restaurant. Where?”
Why he continues to smile at me is beyond me. “Aaron found the perfect spot, of course. This beautiful quaint town which will steal America’s heart like it’s taken mine.”
My heart races and I already know where he’s going.
“And his amazing girlfriend—you may have heard of her, Mia Marshall?”
A happy tear rolls down my cheek.
“Well, she negotiated this sweet deal, and Candice is overseeing the finances.” I nod and rain kisses down his neck. I can’t recall ever being so happy in my life.
“I’m going to open up the restaurant right here in Destiny Falls. Aaron is going to take a break between movie projects and has volunteered to be my sous chef for the duration of the pop-up. Destiny Falls will finally have a restaurant worthy of its beauty, and best of all I get to see you every day.”
The joy in his eyes answers any reservations I may have that he is sacrificing his dreams for me. I trust him when he says this is what he wants. I trust him in all matters.
“Thank you, Jackson. This is the best news ever. I love you with all my heart.”
I don’t wait for a response. I pull him by his hand down the corridor toward my bedroom. The words aren’t necessary, for I know I have his heart, I have his trust, I have the man, and most of all—I have Jackson’s love.
THE END
About the Author
Mel Walker is a novelist, short story writer, native New Yorker and life-long frustrated NY Mets fan. Married with two sons, Mel writes romance and contemporary fiction with heart.
Dedication
Jackson’s Love is a special book in the Lake Hope series, one which I had outlined in my head even before writing book one in the series. The story of Dana, the yoga instructor, is inspired and dedicated to my beautiful and talented wife, Leslie.
