“Just so you know, you didn’t win that argument. I’m just too tired to fight anymore.”
He put the car in gear before glancing at her. “Believe me, beautiful, I know that. Let’s save the fight for tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She leaned her head back and looked out the window.
The next time Jackson looked at her, she was sound asleep.
Chapter Four
Ridley woke Sunday morning to a soft tapping sound.
It took her a moment to remember where she was. Gorgeous antique furniture. Silky-soft sheets. She definitely wasn’t at home. The tapping sound started again. She turned her head toward the door.
“Raina? Are you awake?”
The deep voice coming through the door brought it all back. The accident. Agent Graham. Jackson. She pulled the pillow over her head and groaned.
“Raina?”
She threw the covers back. “Just a second!”
After a last-ditch attempt to tame the flyaway strands around her face, she went to the door and yanked it open. Jackson jumped back at the sudden movement.
“Good morning. I was coming to see if you were hungry. You crashed pretty hard last night.” His eyes took in her sleep-creased face and wild hair.
I dare you to say something, thought Ridley.
“But if you aren’t ready, that’s fine. I can wait.” He backed up a step.
She sighed. She must look truly feral if he was already backpedaling.
“No, I just need to brush my teeth and I’ll be down. Thanks.” She closed the door softly and grabbed her backpack. She carried it into the bathroom and pulled out her toothbrush. While she brushed her teeth, she inspected her face in the mirror. God, it was even worse than she thought. Not only did she still have creases from the pillow in her cheek but the eyelashes on her right side were stuck together, making her look like she was cross-eyed.
Sigh.
“A femme fatale you are not.”
Ten minutes later, she crept down the staircase and stood in the middle of the biggest family room she’d ever seen. A huge wraparound sectional took up one wall and the other was dominated by a massive flat-screen television. Despite the bounty of electronics, the room still retained an airy comfort, probably because everything was a different shade of cream or gold.
There was a piano in the corner and she wandered over. To her surprise, instead of the usual book of classics, there were loose pages of sheet music. She picked one up. The lines and notes appeared to have been drawn in pencil.
“Raina?”
She whirled around, the sheet music drifting to the floor at her feet. Jackson stood in the doorway. He held a spatula in his hands.
“There you are. I’m in the kitchen.”
Guiltily, she knelt and gathered the pages from the floor and placed them back on the piano. She wanted to ask about them but figured if she did, then he might decide to ask her questions, too. Lying sucked but it was a necessary evil just then, so it was probably better if they didn’t have any deep conversations. So she walked through the family room and into the kitchen. Jackson stood at the range, stirring a mound of eggs in a skillet.
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”
Ridley watched him stirring the eggs for a moment before walking behind him to peer through the window into the backyard. “Yeah, I think I may have actually passed out on the bed.”
“Understandable. You like cheese on your eggs?”
She turned to see him holding a bag of shredded cheddar. At her nod, he spread a healthy layer on the eggs. Part of her wondered if she was still dreaming. A handsome man was cooking for her in a state-of-the-art, designer kitchen.
This was definitely not her life.
“So, I figure even if the locksmith doesn’t call back today we can just take it easy. I have no plans other than cleaning the grill. You’re welcome to hang out with me on the patio if you want.” He handed her a plate and fork. They sat side by side at the breakfast bar.
“Sure. I’ll help you.” She took a tentative bite of her eggs. He must have noticed her expression because he grimaced.
“Sorry I’m not a better cook. Eggs are about all I can handle without poisoning anyone.”
Ridley choked back a laugh. “No, they’re good.” After a couple of bites, she looked around. The house was perfectly quiet. “Are the kids coming down for breakfast?”
Jackson ducked his head. “Uh, no. Nick took them for the weekend. They won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes. I did overhear something about that yesterday.” She pursed her lips and focused on her food.
“Uh, yeah. I wanted to apologize again for what you heard. Nick can be an ass but he’s usually harmless.”
Ridley snorted. “It’s fine. I should know better than to eavesdrop by now. It never ends well.”
They finished their food in comfortable silence. He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher, so she did the same. He wiped off the counter with a damp rag and then clapped his hands.
“Okay, I’m going to grab my cleaning supplies and then I’ll meet you outside. It’ll be nice to have company while I clean the grill. I always put it off until the last possible second because I hate doing it.”
“I’ll help you. I’ve cleaned a few grills in my time.” She motioned toward the laundry room. “Do you mind if I throw a few things in the wash first? I was going to yesterday but…”
He nodded knowingly. “No problem. The detergents and stuff are in the cabinets overhead.”
“Thanks.”
She turned and walked back out to the family room and then took the stairs two at a time. By the time she got to her room, she was humming under her breath.
“You are so pathetic,” she muttered. She shouldn’t be so giddy at the prospect of spending more time with Jackson. He was just being nice; it wasn’t like they were going on a date or something.
After throwing the entire contents of her backpack in the washing machine, Ridley stood looking at the clothes swirling around through the clear glass panel on the front. It was tempting to just stand there all day and let herself be hypnotized by the motion. Anything was better than thinking about the events of the past few days and the fact that these clothes were the only things she had to her name at the moment.
“Not that I have so much back in Florida, but still.”
She’d been shaken after the accident but after a lot of prodding, a couple of bandages, and a few painkillers, she was released from the hospital. The first day after the accident, she thought it was the trauma of what she’d seen that had her imagining things. Books that weren’t in the same place she’d left them. Doors left open that she knew she’d locked. Stupid stuff. It wasn’t until she came home and found her apartment completely trashed that she’d been scared. And if her mother had taught her anything, it was how to move fast.
She’d withdrawn a bunch of cash from the ATM and then left a voice mail for her boss at the garden center. Once she’d gotten back home, she’d thrown a bunch of clothes into her hiking pack and ridden her bike to the bus station. It was almost funny to think of her rusty old ten-speed locked to the bike rack downtown. She wondered how long before someone cut it loose and disposed of it since there was no telling how long she’d be here. She’d told her boss that she needed a two-week vacation for a family emergency, but if things weren’t cleared up by then she’d have to quit. As much as she loved her part-time job, she could always find another one later.
“I’m not even going to think about it. I’m just going to enjoy a relaxing afternoon.” She would take Jackson’s offer at face value—a nice guy offering friendly conversation. Nothing more, nothing less. For just a few hours, she would talk, laugh, and not worry about anything.
She walked back through the kitchen to the staircase she’d descended earlier, casting a longing look at the plush, cream-colored couch as she passed. This house was so beautiful, unlike anything she’d ever seen. How cozy it would be to snuggle i
nto the deep cushions and read a book. Maybe after they were done cleaning up outside.
She went back to the guest room and checked her phone. She had one missed call. Maybe Raina had finally decided to stop ignoring her. But when she looked at the number she recognized it as her landlady.
“Mrs. Ashton called?”
Mrs. Ashton was a kindly older woman who rented out rooms in her large duplex to college students. She’d been willing to give Ridley a discount on the rent in exchange for her running errands such as picking up mail from her post-office box and getting basic groceries each week.
“I should have let her know I’d be gone. She probably needed something from the store.” She immediately pressed the button to call her back.
She wasn’t sure if she was going to stay in Virginia permanently but it was only fair to let Mrs. Ashton know that she would be gone for a while. She’d probably need to hire someone else to help her out while Ridley was gone.
“Hello?”
Ridley sat up straight at the weak voice coming over the line. “Mrs. Ashton? It’s Ridley.”
“Oh, thank goodness, child. Where have you been? I was so worried!”
“Worried? I just went out of town for the weekend.”
“Oh, dear Lord. When we couldn’t find you we thought you were in the building when it happened. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
A chill ran down Ridley’s spine hearing the normally reserved Mrs. Ashton so excited. Even though she helped her with her groceries and random other things around the house, they’d never been particularly close. She’d learned more than once over the years that it just made it harder to move on in the end.
And she’d always had to move on.
“In the building when what happened?”
“There was a fire last night, Ridley. It seems to have started in your bedroom, although no one knows how that’s possible. But all your things are gone. It’s all gone.”
“Oh my god,” Ridley cried.
“The fire department was able to contain it so it didn’t take any of the other rooms in the house. Thank goodness a passerby saw the smoke and called for help.” She paused for a moment, seeming to collect herself. “I wish one of the other units was empty so I could give you one of those when you get back in town, but I just took on an exchange student. I’m fully booked.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Ashton. I’m staying with family and I was toying with the idea of relocating up here, anyway. I guess fate has made the decision for me…” Her legs trembled, so she sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Mrs. Ashton started talking again but she barely heard it. She hadn’t thought she had much to her name, but what was the value of the old photographs of her mother whom she’d never see again? Or her half of the best-friends-forever necklace she and Raina had worn every day in junior high? What about the diaries she’d kept faithfully since high school, recording all her fears, dreams, and girlish wishes? She’d written in those journals until she’d learned the hard way that life wasn’t a fairy tale and there were no handsome princes.
All of it, a lifetime of memories, just gone.
“I have to go. I’m so sorry you were worried about me. I’m just glad you’re okay and no one was hurt in the fire. Thank you for everything.” She hung up and sat staring at the wall in front of her.
It was only when a tear fell on the screen of her phone that she realized she was crying.
***
Jackson stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched as Raina opened the oven. After waiting for fifteen minutes, he’d come looking for her.
The quiet sobs coming through the guest-room door had affected him more than anything in a long time.
Raina closed the oven and turned. “Oh! You scared me. I didn’t even hear you walk up.”
Her long lashes were still spiky and wet from her tears. The effect was like a punch to the gut.
What was it about this girl?
Just the thought of her in pain was like a knife to the chest. He cleared his throat and backed up a step.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. When you didn’t come outside, I figured you found something better to do.”
Her face fell. “I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I was supposed to help with the grill.”
“Sure, sure. You ditched me for something better. I get it.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Hey, I don’t blame you. Cleaning gunk off a grill is hardly an irresistible proposition. But I was really hurt by that, just so you know. The only thing that will help is if you promise to share whatever that is that smells so good.”
Her lips twitched. “You’re crazy. I was going to share anyway. No guilt trip needed. I was just about to take it out of the oven.”
“You really didn’t have to cook. I was just going to order something.” Jackson was truly in awe. She’d made an entire dish in less time than it took him to figure out where the plates were in his own kitchen.
“Well, I wanted to do something to make up for how rude I was yesterday. I shouldn’t have just left like that.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I would have walked out, too.”
“At least I know you aren’t a vegetarian since your refrigerator is filled with nothing but raw meat. The freezer and pantry were only a little better, but I was able to find some frozen chicken breast and some canned vegetables.”
“I haven’t had time to shop lately, so we’ve only got the meat I’m marinating for the cookout tomorrow. I have to confess, we mainly eat microwave dinners. The only time we get home-cooked meals is when my mom comes. My mom’s a feminist, so I’m pretty sure raising a son who can’t cook is one of her lifelong disappointments.”
His stomach grumbled loudly and they both laughed at the unexpected noise in the otherwise quiet kitchen. She slid her hand into an oven mitt and pulled open the oven. His mouth watered as a savory aroma immediately filled the room. She placed the dish carefully on the stovetop.
“Well, I can hear you’re hungry, so let’s dig in. I also made string beans with potatoes. I couldn’t find anything else to make in the pantry.” She started scooping food onto plates.
“I’m working on hiring someone to watch the boys and maybe cook a few times a week. None of the nannies I’ve interviewed have worked out so far.” He held up his hands at the large servings she was dishing up. “I don’t think I can eat all that!”
“Oh… actually this is mine.” She turned back to her plate and giggled a little. It looked like it was heavier than she was. “I haven’t had time to cook much lately, so I need a home-cooked meal myself.” She settled down with her food and hummed as she bit off a piece of chicken.
They ate at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He couldn’t stop himself from staring as she got up to get a second helping.
“What! I’m not one of those girls who eat a salad and claim to be full. I’m hungry !”
“No, don’t apologize. I appreciate a woman who can eat.” He didn’t add that he also appreciated the aftereffect of a healthy appetite, namely the soft curves stretching out her jeans and tee shirt. She already thought he was a pig. If she knew why he was really staring, she’d probably dump the casserole dish over his head.
“So, where were you coming from?”
Her hand paused before she speared another bite of food. “Florida. That’s where I went to college.”
“It’s weird; I thought I read somewhere that you didn’t go to college.”
“Oh, I didn’t finish.” Raina looked away. “That’s probably why. Anyway, I still have friends there. What about you? Have you always lived here?”
“Virginian, born and bred. My parents have a farm not too far from here. I went to college across the water in Norfolk. Dropped out before I finished, too. I was too busy playing the guitar to study anything useful.”
She looked around. “Well, apparently you studied something useful.”
“Not everyone thinks so. It was
a long time before I started earning enough to make a living. Then I got my break about two years ago when a major country star liked one of my songs enough to record it.”
Her eyes widened and he grinned, enjoying her shock. “Are you surprised? Let me guess, you assumed I was into R&B or hip-hop music, right?”
“Okay, you got me. Those were totally stereotypical assumptions to make. I hate when people assume they know me before I even open my mouth, so I’m a little ashamed that I’m guilty of doing it, too.” She propped her head on her fist as she watched him. “So, what got you into country music?”
“My parents own a farm, remember? They’re a little bit country and a little bit rock n’ roll, as my dad would say. We heard country music around the house since I was a little kid. One of my uncles plays the guitar, and he taught me when I was about ten. I haven’t stopped since. That first song turned into an album, then I got an offer to collaborate on another country star’s album. The rest is history, I guess. Both of those albums did really well, so all my hard work finally paid off.”
He stopped then and waited, holding her gaze. When she looked away, he knew she understood. He’d told her his story. Now it was her turn.
She sighed.
“My mom died a few years ago.”
Jackson closed his eyes. “I am so sorry.”
“Thanks. We weren’t close and I regret that. That’s when I first started searching for my biological father. I hired a private investigator to track him down. His name was David. He invited me to dinner to tell me what he found out. I didn’t see any harm in going. He seemed nice enough.” She stood and carried her plate over to the sink.
“Before long he was dropping by my place just to chat or bring Chinese. He liked jazz and was a well-respected businessman in the community. I thought I’d finally gotten lucky and met one of these nice guys I keep hearing so much about.”
Jackson stood and put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have asked.”
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