He felt about ninety years old even thinking these things, but whatever happened to just good old fashioned dating? You meet someone you like, you take them out a few times and if it’s still working after a couple weeks, you start calling them your girlfriend.
He knew Janie’s track record, and he had nothing against anyone getting theirs. Live and let live, right? But that wasn’t for him. He wanted Janie to think of him in the long term. He was nearly thirty and he wanted a pretty simple life, when it came right down to it. A job he liked, a woman he loved, some kids and a house.
Whether or not Janie was that woman, he couldn’t say just yet, but there was definitely a possibility. But that possibility would shrivel up and die if she decided she wasn’t interested in him beyond a casual fling.
Which is why he was going to work really hard to keep it in his pants. Why buy the cow, and all that. Now he felt really old and a little like that preacher man in Footloose.
He shook his head to focus on what he was doing, namely picking out something to wear tonight. He had an hour before he needed to pick Janie up at the townhouse.
He decided to go for business casual tonight, since he wasn’t exactly sure where they were going or what the dress code was. He’d just aim for the middle and hopefully it would be close enough. Sort of like throwing a grenade.
He pulled on gray wool trousers and pulled a black belt through the loops before putting on and tucking in a black dress shirt. He threw on a pair of black dress boots, the watch his mother had given him when he’d mustered out, and topped it with a black peacoat.
One last glance in the mirror told him he was good to go, so he grabbed his keys and his wallet and headed out the door. He arrived fifteen minutes early, so he was surprised when Janie answered the door, coat in hand, ready to go.
She wore a form fitting cobalt blue dress that hit just below her knees. The sleeves were long but the square neckline was low enough to show a hint of cleavage. It made him think of the blue of the ocean from seventy thousand feet, and as he occasionally had when seeing that view, he wanted to just dive in.
Her hair was down in soft waves, and in the street lights, it shimmered red gold. The dress made her green eyes look more turquoise and again he was reminded of the ocean, but this time the waves off the coast at the beach where his mother used to take them in the summers.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, not knowing what else to say. He couldn’t think of any charming line or flirty banter that would do justice to the woman in front of him.
Even in the dim light, he could see her blush and look away briefly before her red lips curved into a wide smile.
“You’re no slouch, yourself,” she replied. She pulled her coat on and locked up before turning to descend the stairs. He would have sworn there was a little extra sway in her hips as she came down the steps, and he smiled to himself. At least he knew he had one thing going for him. There was no denying that the chemistry was there.
“Shall we?” he said with a smile, offering his arm. She took it, wrapping her small, manicured fingers around his forearm as he led her down the street to where he’d parked.
He helped her in, dutifully averting his eyes in case of any wardrobe malfunctions, and they were off. He kept his eyes on the road to avoid leering at all that flawless skin.
Their conversation was light, interrupted only by Janie’s directions to the restaurant. Jackson found a convenient parking space, practically a miracle in midtown manhattan, and came around to help Janie down from the car.
He checked his watch and saw that they were twenty minutes early.
“That’s a nice piece,” Janie remarked.
“Thanks,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows. She chuckled, as he’d intended and he smiled. “Thank you,” he added seriously. “It was a gift.”
“Must be from a woman,” Janie speculated. “One with excellent taste, too. An ex?”
“Nope,” Jackson grinned. “My mom. She gave it to me when I got home from the service.” He undid the clasp and slid the watch off so Janie could see the dates engraved on the back plate.
“That’s my enlist date and that’s the date I was discharged,” he explained.
“That’s so sweet,” Janie said, her voice catching on the last word. Her eyes looked a little shinier than usual, too. He put his watch back on and took her hand, enjoying the feel of her small fingers in his larger ones.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face so he could see her better.
“Yeah.” Janie said softly. It was clear something had hit a nerve and she was trying to brazen it out.
“You sure?
“It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing. Jackson stayed silent, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts without pushing.
“I just... miss my mom sometimes.” Janie shrugged, wiping away a tear that had broken free and begun rolling down her cheek. “She died a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Jackson said, wrapping her in a hug. It took a long moment for her to respond, but she slowly wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. He let her hold onto him as long as she needed, as she sniffled a few times, her face buried in his chest.
He rubbed one hand up and down her back, offering her whatever comfort he could until she pulled away.
“Sorry,” she whispered, wiping another tear from her eye.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked, taking her hand again. “We’ve got time.”
“No,” Janie said, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I think we better head in. I’m sure I need to fix my face before we sit down.”
“Hey,” he replied, tilting her head back with a finger beneath her chin until she was looking him in the eye. “You’re stunning, Janie.”
He gave her a small, soft kiss before pulling away and squeezing her hand. She said nothing, but she followed as he led her down the street and into the restaurant. The hostess took their coats and informed them they were the first to arrive and offered to let them wait at the bar. Janie excused herself to use the ladies room and Jackson found two seats at the bar and ordered himself a beer.
When she returned, she looked perfectly pulled together and she was sporting a smile, though her eyes were a little sad, a little wary.
“Feeling better?” he asked, as he waved the bartender over so Janie could order a drink.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, climbing up onto the barstool with the aid of his shoulder for balance. That small act, that little bit of familiarity and faith, made his chest swell and his heart beat faster.
Janie ordered her drink and then turned to him with a sigh.
“I was only two when she died,” she said. He turned toward her, taking her hand in his, and listened. “Her name was Eva, but I don’t even remember her, really. You’d think that would make it easier, but it actually makes it worse.
I don’t have any memories to turn to, or even a sense of who she really was. I’ve tried to… talk to her, like some people do, but I can’t even do that because I have no idea what she would say or what her voice would sound like.”
“That has to be really tough,” he said, sweeping his thumb across the smooth skin of her hand as she took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow breath. She was obviously trying not to cry again, so he let her take her time.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t very fun dinner conversation,” she said with a sad smile. “It’s bad enough I roped you into dinner with my family, but now I’m being a downer to boot.”
“Hey,” Jackson said, shaking his head. “Any conversation with you is a good one.” He leaned forward and glanced around before he added, “I’d even argue about barbeque with you and count myself lucky.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes, and he couldn’t resist picking up her hand and bringing to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand before returning their joined hands to her lap. When he looked up, she was staring at him with an exp
ression he’d never seen before. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly drifted away to a point over his shoulder.
Her mouth closed and reformed itself into an artificial smile and she pulled her hand away from his as she slid gracefully off the stool.
He watched as she hugged an older man who wasn’t much taller than she was in her heels, and guessed that the rest of the party must have arrived.
Show time.
CHAPTER NINE
Janie rambled off introductions without even thinking. Her head was a mess. Her thoughts were jumbled and she had no concept of what was coming out of her mouth. She was running strictly on autopilot.
“Jackson…” her father paused.
“Hunter. Jackson Hunter,” Jackson replied, shaking her father’s hand.
“Ooh, like James Bond,” Makenna giggled, rushing forward to be the next in line for a hug. Janie returned it, hesitantly. Who was this girl?
When Janie had left home five years ago, Makenna had been an awkward sophomore with braces and acne. This girl- this woman- was taller than Janie by three inches, with perfect skin and strawberry blonde hair that looked like something out of a shampoo commercial.
And had her breasts grown? Certainly she hadn’t been that well-endowed at sixteen. And, of course, she was model thin with long, toned legs extending beneath her simple pleated skirt.
The skirt was black, the button up blouse she wore was pastel blue and her heels were at least as high as Janie’s. She looked every inch the model that Nancy wanted her to be. Janie had no doubt she could make it, and she was both proud of the woman her little sister was growing into, even though they’d never been close, and disgusted at the thought that Nancy would get what she always wanted.
“Oh. My. Goodness,” Makenna squealed, pulling back and looking her over from head to toe. “Janie, you look amazing!”
“Thank you,” Janie said awkwardly. “So do you.”
“Well, I’m sure I look different, at least,” Makenna said, blushing and laughing.
Was I ever this young and care-free?
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Nancy chimed in, beaming at her daughter and seemingly ignoring the rest of the group.
“Yes, she is,” Janie replied, forcing a smile when she really wanted to bear her teeth and growl.
“Well, let’s sit down before they give away our table., Her father interjected, ushering Nancy and Makenna toward the hostess booth where a waitress was waiting with a stack of menus.
When they were seated and their orders had been placed, the real hell began.
“So, dear. Tell us all about your life here,” Nancy asked, one eyebrow raised and a malicious gleam in her eye.
“What would you like to know?” Janie asked, folding her napkin and placing it in her lap so she could twist it into knots without her step monster seeing it.
“Well, for starters you can tell us more about this... strapping young man you’ve brought with you.”
“Jackson is a friend of mine,” Janie said simply. “You remember my boss, Alexandra?” she added, turning to her father who was staring absently at his scotch.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. She had some trouble?” He squinted as if trying to remember the details.
“Last year,” Janie confirmed. “Jackson works with Alexandra’s fiancé. That’s how we met.”
“You’re a security guard?” Nancy asked, raising an eyebrow and giving Janie a significant glance.
“No-” Jackson began, politely.
“No, Nancy,” Janie interrupted. “The firm provides security services for some of the best companies in town, and they also provide personal protection details.”
“So, he’s a bodyguard?” Nancy replied, unimpressed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jackson grinned. “And a damn good one. Of course, after eight years in the Marine Corps, there wasn’t much else I was good at other than blowing things up.”
“Marine Corps?” her father asked. “That’s impressive. Where were you stationed?”
Jackson went over some of the places he’d been and answered her father’s questions while Nancy glared at Janie from across the table, upset that she hadn’t been able to humiliate Jackson, and by extension Janie.
What the hell is her problem?
“So, Janie,” Makenna said from the other side of the table, refocusing Janie’s attention.
“Was someone really killed in your apartment?”
“Makenna Grace!” Nancy exclaimed, mouth agape, hand on her chest as if the Gods of Southern manners were about to strike them all down.
“Yes,” Janie said, nodding. “Right in my living room. Such a shame. I really liked that rug.”
“Janice!” Nancy practically screeched. Janie didn’t let her see her flinch, but she could feel Jackson’s questioning look even though she couldn’t see it.
Makenna tried, and failed, to hold in a giggle which made Janie smile, but earned her a stern glare from Nancy.
“We do not discuss such things at the dinner table,” Nancy scolded, shooting daggers at Janie out of the corner of her eye.
“Nancy…” her father said in that tired tone of his. It was the most reproof anyone ever received from James Carpenter. He simply couldn’t muster enough energy to do anything more. And of course it wasn’t nearly strong enough to handle the likes of Nancy.
“I suppose we should have expected this. A woman living alone in a city like New York?” she scoffed, shaking her head.
“Meaning what, exactly?” Janie asked, cocking her head to one side.
“Well, it’s not like back home is it? There’s no one here to keep an eye on you, to give you guidance.”
“And what guidance would I need at 26 years old?” Janie said with a bitter laugh.
“Well how to dress appropriately, for one,” Nancy muttered. “Do they even have churches in this place?”
“Maybe Kenna coming here to model isn’t such a good idea then,” Janie replied. “Maybe you should all go home, where it’s safe.”
“That’s different,” Nancy snapped. “She’ll have me to keep her on the straight and narrow.”
“Alright, that’s enough, girls,” her father sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Let’s just have a nice dinner.
Janie looked away, trying to contain the anger boiling through her. She felt Jackson’s hand, almost familiar to her now, rest briefly on her knee before he took her hand in his. He squeezed it gently, but rather than offering her comfort, it made her want to crawl under the table and disappear.
This had been a mistake. The whole thing. She should have made an excuse to get out of dinner and stayed home. She could be spending her evening in a much more pleasant way, like having dental work done, or extracting her fingernails with pliers.
It was suddenly too warm and too close in the dining room. She needed an escape or she was going to lose it.
“Excuse me,” she said, standing up and abruptly releasing Jackson’s hand. “I need to use the restroom.”
Jackson, the gentleman that he was, stood when she did. She tried to give him a smile, but it probably ended up as little more than a grimace. She just needed a few minutes to regain her equilibrium before everything spun out of control.
✽✽✽
Jackson hadn’t been sure why Janie had wanted him here at first, but now he understood. Her stepmother was a judgmental cow and her father didn’t seem to care enough to put a stop to it. Jackson would have said something, to both of them, except for the fact that he didn’t relish the idea of humiliating the man in front of his children.
His father had taught him a lot of things, and that was one of the most important. You have a problem with someone, you take it up with him in private. It wasn’t right to embarrass someone in front of a crowd, especially when that crowd included his daughters.
Janie was strong and she could stick up for herself. She’d probably kneecap him for even trying to interfere. It went against all his instincts, but he needed to take his cues from her.
Things were still too new, too fragile for him to step in.
Someday, hopefully someday soon, he’d have the right to speak up, but for now, he was just here for moral support.
Speaking of…
He excused himself and headed for the restrooms, hoping to have a moment with Janie before she rejoined the party.
She was just leaving the ladies’ room when he caught up with her in the empty hallway.
“Hey, you alright?” Jackson asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Janie replied, not looking at him.
“If you want to leave, just let me know and I’ll take you home,” Jackson said, trying to catch her eye. “Or out for a burger.”
She finally gave him a weak smile and met his eyes for a moment.
“How about this,” Jackson went on. “If you want to leave, just squeeze my hand and I’ll fake an emergency call.” He winked at her and her smile grew a little more.
“Deal,” she said quietly.
This wasn’t the Janie he knew. That nasty heifer had taken the vibrant, ballsy woman he knew and turned her into a weary, defeated girl who was trying desperately to keep it together. He’d never let her know that he’d noticed, but he had. And it damn near broke his heart.
And filled him with rage. He was itching for a private word with her old man, and his wife. It was probably for the best he wasn’t going to get one. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself and he was likely to say, or do, something reckless.
The rest of dinner was just as tense. Jackson was surprised he was able to eat anything at all, considering how much time he spent clenching his jaw and biting his tongue while Nancy made not so subtle digs at Janie right under her husband’s nose.
James was only interested in his meal, and Makenna was berated into silence every time she opened her mouth. He tried to talk to Janie or her father, but Nancy always seemed to have something to add. She was always chiming in with some stupid comment that killed the conversation.
Her Defender (MacLachlan Security Group Book 2) Page 9
