Jackson lifted his head to greet his father, hoping the smile he fashioned would ease the worry he saw settled in the man’s eyes. “It’s early. You should be sleeping.”
“I’m a father. When my children suffer, so do I. Are you really this bothered by my engagement to Sophie?”
Jackson let his head hang, glancing back at the rough sketch in his hand. What kind of son would he be to cause his father so much distress? “Daddy, I never said I had a problem with you and Mrs. Eames.”
“You didn’t have to. Your silence said plenty. I knew you wouldn’t be thrilled about me marrying again, given how I know you feel about relationships. But I didn’t think you’d be so bothered you couldn’t sleep through the night.”
“I’m not.” Jackson laughed at the disbelief on his father’s face. “I swear I’m not, Daddy. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
His father made a show of groaning as he took his time to sit on the steps next to Jackson. “Something or someone?”
Jackson didn’t bother to hide behind the excuse that was waiting on his tongue. Instead, he handed his father the sketch he’d been working on.
“That’s a beautiful likeness of Ms. Everett. I’m sure this will be right nice when you’re finished with it. What kind of trouble could this lovely young lady cause you?”
Jackson glanced briefly at his father, then dropped his eyes back on the page.
“Oh, that kind of trouble,” his father answered, patting Jackson on the leg as he spoke.
“Daddy, how did you know when you were ready to let go of everything you believed to be true about yourself?”
“When it became more important to hold on to Sophie than it was my past.”
Jackson took the sketch pad from his father, darkening another layer of lines, wondering if he’d come to the point where something, someone, was more important than his pain.
Chapter 34
“Aja Marie Everett, you’d better get your hind parts down here before this food you had me cook gets cold.”
Aja stood behind the bedroom door and huffed. Aunt Jo was once again bellowing her name from the bottom of the kitchen stairs, threatening her over food Aja hadn’t asked her to cook.
“Everything’s back to normal.” Well, almost normal. She still couldn’t bring herself to sleep in her old bedroom. She didn’t know if it was because of the attack or if it was because she missed Jackson so much that she needed to be in the room where they shared their one night together. Either way, sleeping in one room while all her belongings were in another made getting ready in the morning a little hectic.
“Aja, you hear me calling you, gal?”
“Yessum.” Aja opened the door and called out. “On my way down now.”
She sped down the hall and took quick steps until she was in the kitchen. “Mmm, Aunt Jo, you have this kitchen smelling good. What’s on the menu?” She walked over to her aunt and kissed her cheek.
“If you’re lucky”—her aunt tipped her head to the right—“he is.” Aja followed the direction Jo indicated, and her knees nearly buckled when she saw Jackson Dean sitting at the breakfast table near the back window.
Aja turned to him, slowly walking toward the table as her stomach twisted in knots. Nearly two weeks had passed since they’d last spoken.
She took a deep breath and took the seat he pulled out for her. As they sat, her aunt placed two full plates in front of them, disappeared for a moment, and returned with a pitcher of orange juice and two glasses. “I’ll be at my cabin doing a few loads of clothes if you need me.”
“Yessum,” Aja replied. With a wink and a smile, Aunt Jo made her way down the hall and out the front door.
Jackson poured a glass of juice and slid it across the table for her. “Thanks,” Aja said. “Not that I mind you dropping by, but what brings you this way?”
“Well, I’ve been having a rough couple of days, so I opened your gift.”
Aja tried to curb the enthusiasm bubbling inside her. But lost the battle as the edges of her mouth curled into a smile. “Did you like what was inside?”
He dropped his gaze, and when he lifted it again, there was a spark of excitement in their depths. “I loved it, Aja. I don’t think anyone has ever given me a more thoughtful gift. I just—”
She held up her hand. “If you’re trying to tell me you can’t accept the pencils and pads I gave you, forget it. I refuse to take them back. And—”
“I have no intention of giving them back. I already used them.” He pulled one of the sketch pads she’d given him from the seat on the opposite side of him and handed it to her.
She opened it to another drawing of her. This one was more detailed than the other he’d created in this very room, and it took her breath away how he captured her likeness and her emotion as well.
“Shortly after I read your note, I sketched this.” He pointed to the drawing in her hand. “I kept thinking about what you said about being happy. And I realized the only time I seem to be happy is when I’m near you or drawing pictures of you.”
Aja’s heart beat faster. Was this happening to her?
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, his warmth sending shocks of excitement buzzing through her.
“So I figured if I was going to listen to you and find the thing that makes me happy, I should probably start by coming to the source.”
Her trembling lips curved into a nervous smile. “I don’t know what any of this means, Jackson. What are you trying to say?”
He laughed and stood, pulling her to her feet with him. “I think the old folks call it courting. But if you need me to translate, in my very clumsy way, I’m trying to ask if you’d allow me the privilege of your company. Would you let me take you out on a date?”
Aja folded her arms, trying to contain her giddiness. She cleared her throat, amazed at how a small offering from one man could bring her such joy. “All right, Ranger. I’m game if you are. But are you sure you can handle me?”
He pulled her into his arms, cupping her cheek and leaning in close. “I can handle anything you’ve got.”
* * *
“Okay, we’re in Austin. We headed to Dirty Sixth?”
Jackson parked his truck before turning to her with a smile and shaking his head. Sixth Street was famous for its seemingly endless row of bars. If you were looking to tie one on in a loud, crowded place, you’d have your pick there.
Not that he hadn’t been a patron a time or two. He’d certainly had his fair share of fun over the years. But he wanted tonight to be different, special. It was a chance for him to show Aja some of the gems tourists often missed.
He went to reach for the handle on his door and saw Aja doing the same. “Now, I don’t know about those jokers in New York, but us country boys don’t let women open their own doors. You’ve been in a car with me before; you should know that.”
The sharp intake of her breath coupled with the high arch of her lifted brow was all the warning she gave him. “Let?” She released a long sigh before she continued. “First, ‘let’ implies that I need your permission. My case is officially over, and any deference I showed you before will not spill over into us getting to know each other personally.
“Second, I am perfectly capable of opening my own door. I am not fragile or broken; there is no logical reason why I should sit here and wait for you to walk around this monster truck of yours and open my door.”
His smile widened as he stared at her. The very thing that frustrated the hell out of him while working her case was also the thing that turned him on. She was fearless and didn’t back down from anyone, and after seeing her wield her lawyerly powers in that interrogation room, he figured she must be a marvel to watch in an actual courtroom.
“Aja, I wasn’t insinuating you were helpless. Everything I’ve known about you tells me you’re one of the stro
ngest people I know. I don’t want to open doors for you because I think you’re this breakable thing—I do it because it’s just one of the ways for me to show my appreciation for a wonderful person like you choosing to spend your time with me. Not to mention, holding doors open for people is the courteous thing to do. And you know us southern boys are all about good manners.”
She stared at him as if she were attempting to gauge the veracity of his explanation. “You are so infuriating.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“We have to be some kind of insane to do this.”
He laughed hard and loud at that one. “Baby, you ain’t ever lied.” They were both so headstrong and determined to have their own way, it would be interesting to see how they kept from slitting each other’s throats. But as her gloss-covered lips bent into a sultry smile and her shoulders quaked with laughter, he knew whatever minefields they had to navigate to get closer to each other would be worth it.
“So now that you know I’m not being a chauvinistic pig, would you allow me the honor of opening your door for you?”
“Absolutely.”
He opened his door, quickly walking around the back of the vehicle to get to her side. He pulled the handle, offering her his hand as she placed one booted foot onto the running board and then on the ground.
He bit his lip, for fear of saying something stupid as he took a long glance at her. She wore a short red sweater dress that put every one of her luscious curves on display, paired with black, over-the-knee stiletto boots that made her petite legs look so much longer than they had any right to be. Whoever lied and said full-figured women weren’t the sexiest thing on earth had never had the pleasure of meeting Aja Everett.
At the moment, he wasn’t upset that society was stupid; it gave him more of an opportunity to have her all to himself. More for me.
They walked around the corner until they were on South Congress Avenue, in the middle of what appeared to be a small street festival. People were walking the street while vendors enticed pedestrians over to their shops with cocktails and appetizers, all to the sound of loud, rhythmic music.
“What is all this, Jackson?”
“It’s called First Thursday. On the first Thursday of every month, shop owners put on this sort of block party. People come, they drink and eat, enjoy the music, and do a little shopping too. I thought it would be a nice way for you to get reacquainted with the area since so much of your time is dedicated to the ranch.”
She laced her fingers through his and gave them a squeeze. “You’re taking a woman whose idea of recreational time is a day on Fifth Ave shopping on your first date? You’re either the bravest man I know or the least smart.”
He pulled her hand up to his mouth and placed a light kiss on the back. “Probably a little of both.”
She winked at him and pulled him in the crowd’s direction. “Well, come on then, Ranger. Let’s get this party started.”
* * *
Jackson retrieved wet paper towels from his kitchen and offered Aja one. “I still cannot believe you got us Franklin Barbecue takeout without us having to set up a tent on that line.”
He was glad she was impressed. People waited hours in line to get inside that place just to order. Getting a table to eat in was nearly impossible without securing a reservation six months in advance. With good reason too. Eating their food was a spiritual experience.
“I was there one night last year to pick up an order for an office potluck when two patrons who’d had a little too much fun on Dirty Sixth got a little rowdy. I handled the situation, got them out of there without too much fuss, and the owner was grateful. Told me anytime I wanted something, call him personally, and he’d make certain I’d never have to wait in line again.”
She finished wiping her hands and mouth, then took another sip of her beer. “I guess that Texas Ranger badge really does come with some perks.”
“I swear, it’s the only one I’ve ever taken advantage of.”
She lifted her hands and laughed. “Hey, no judgments from me. Barbecue that good is worth bending some rules for. And technically, if you’re still paying for the food, it’s not a bribe.”
He winked and gave her a playful “No comment” before removing their dishes from the table to his kitchen counter. He scraped the remains of their meal into the trash.
“You want me to help with cleanup? It’s the least I can do after you took me shopping, showed me some of downtown Austin’s culture, and fed me grilled meat I didn’t have to cook myself.”
“I’ve got the cleanup, but you can come keep me company while I wash the dishes.”
She grabbed their beer bottles and met him at the sink, placing his on the butcher block surface as she leaned in to the counter, swirling her own bottle around in tight circles.
“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed a night out.”
“When was the last time you did anything but work?”
She took a sip and the impish grin she wore as she swallowed told him she knew she looked damn sexy doing it. “You criticizing my work ethic, Ranger?”
“No, commiserating with it. I don’t take nearly as much time off as I should. That’s how I ended up on forced leave for four weeks.”
She placed her beverage on the counter and looked up to the ceiling, shaking her head. “We’re a sad pair, aren’t we? We have everything in life we could need, and yet all either of us seems to find joy in is work.”
He shut off the faucet, picked up a towel to dry his hands, and faced her. “Hopefully we’ll help each other change that.”
There was a spark in her eye. It was intense and consuming. She stepped closer to him, her hands sliding up the front of his white button-down shirt, playing with the collar as she tilted her mouth toward his.
“You don’t have to do this. I didn’t bring you back here to coerce you into sleeping with me.”
“I know I don’t have to do this, and I didn’t think you did.” Her words were intentional, as if she were educating him instead of him reassuring her. “I gotta tell you, this almost pathological need of yours to make me feel safe is the sexiest thing about you.”
He was no prince when it came to romance. But he never wanted his partners to feel somehow pressured into being with him. Maybe it was his overinflated ego, maybe it was the constant insistence of his father that he always ask before he assumed when it came to sex, but whatever it was, he needed more than anything to know Aja’s desire to be with him was as desperate as his.
“Really? I think my charm is way sexier than anything else I’ve got going for me.”
She shook her head. “You mean your bull-in-a-glass-factory charm? No, not so much. I’m more intrigued by your struggle to balance your obligations versus your desires. Watching you watching me, trying your best to be the gentleman your father raised you to be, that was the height of foreplay.”
Listening to her talk about foreplay made heat spread through his body. He could easily have blamed the electric buzz on the alcohol he’d consumed. But no amount of beer had ever made him feel as alive and aware as the thought of Aja Everett in his arms.
“Now that we have that settled, can we get to the part where we’re both naked and happy? Because that would be a big, beautiful bow on top of this amazing gift of a night you’ve given me. What do you say, Ranger?”
He said nothing; he couldn’t. This woman who was bold and forthright almost every moment he’d spent with her stole his ability to think and process language. The dynamic way her mind worked seemed to have more control over him than the siren’s call of her body. God, when did words become so sexy to him?
He knew the exact answer to that. It was the moment she’d cursed him out when he’d arrived on her ranch. He’d thought it was annoyance. Now he saw it for what it was—an aphrodisiac.
All those verbal battles
they’d had before were foreplay, a means of ramping up the desire that flowed so easily between them. And now, as he stood with her pressed against him in his kitchen, no restrictions from his job standing in the way of him delighting in this undeniable chemistry they shared, Jackson didn’t want words between them. He wanted nothing between them. Not the clothes they wore and divested themselves of as he led them into his bedroom. Not the hang-ups about love and intimacy that had plagued him for more years than he could count, and most of all, not the hurt he’d been holding on to for so long he almost didn’t know how to let it go.
He reached down, opening his nightstand drawer and removing a condom. The thin aluminum packet felt so heavy in his hand.
“Hey, everything okay?”
He pulled her into his arms, unsure of how to answer that question but needing to try anyway. “I have never in my life wanted to forgo using a condom as badly as I do right now.”
“Jackson—”
He saw the concern on her face. Playing fast and loose with condoms came at a huge cost. He’d never knowingly endanger either of them like that.
“I’m not suggesting we don’t use it. I’m saying for the first time, I don’t want to. Does that make sense?”
She nodded. “Yes. It simply means if that’s something we wish to explore, we’ve got to set up some ground rules first.”
She took the condom out of his hand and opened it, then wrapped her hand around his hardened length and slowly slid it down. “But that is a conversation for another time. The only thing I want to discuss right now is how long it will take for you to join your beautiful body with mine.”
“Woman, the things you say. I finally can have you without feeling like I’m committing a punishable offense, and you want me to rush straight through it?”
“You are absolutely correct.”
She stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips against his, and whatever retort he had was lost in the sweet taste of her. It was such a heady flavor, the sweet and tangy spice of the barbecue they’d eaten mixed with the citrus flavor of the IPA they’d imbibed, and his senses were on overload.
Jackson Page 24
