Which she did. At least, she did now.
“Good.” Beatrice’s smile mirrored her daughter’s delight. “Does he have brown eyes, like your father?”
“He does. The most incredible pools of warmth and compassion you’d ever want to lose yourself in,” she said, absently moving her hand upward along her mother’s forearm in sweeping strokes as she considered him. “He has a smile that doesn’t quit. The kind of smile that reaches out and holds your hand...rubs your back when you’ve had a rough day. He senses immediately when something’s wrong and sets right out to ease the upset.”
“Jackson sounds a lot like your father...”
Jennifer’s heart filled with his memory. Her gaze drifted through the quiet room and she thought about her dad. He had been the sweetest, most sensitive man she had ever known. Except for one black day, when he discovered her and Tony in the backyard, he had been nothing but understanding. Ever the “man of the house,” Jennifer had no idea others saw him as less for the choices he made; choices that fulfilled his passion for life, the work that made him happy.
Shame crept into her heart. All those years, while she had seen him for who he was, she had mistaken him for a title. Dr. Arthur Hamilton had been the king of her existence, the epitome of what a man should be. Yet she had missed the real man. Not only in her dad, but when seeking her ideal husband. Distracted by polished appearance, she overlooked true worth.
“Maybe I can meet him sometime.”
The statement cut open Jennifer’s reverie. “What?”
“Maybe I can meet this Jackson.”
And sliced her heart in two. It was a casual remark, as though she had all the time in the world. But there was no Jackson “to meet.”
Theirs was a relationship which existed in fantasy. “Sure,” she lied, gutted by the reality of her farce. “Maybe you can...”
Chapter Thirty
Relax, she counseled herself. Jax has no idea anything has changed. Only you know the two of you made love. Her vision tunneled slightly. Hot, steamy, no holds barred love.
Standing at the edge of her drive, he brushed his hands against one another, freeing them of dirt, his smile easy and comfortable.
Closed in her car, she gathered her things. Nothing has changed between you. He knows nothing.
His eyes turned expectant.
She pushed open the door and lifted free, hit by the humidity of the day. The heat felt magnified by her light blue Oxford button-down. Oppressive, damp, she groaned inwardly.
“Good afternoon.”
“Hello, Jax,” she said. Remaining behind her door, she took advantage of the momentary barrier it provided. “How’s it coming?” she asked as casually as possible.
“I’m finished, but I wanted to be here to make a final inspection.”
“Finished?” The statement sucked the breath from her lungs.
“Ahead of schedule,” he said proudly. “The inspector comes on Monday to sign off on the plumbing and electrical and then we’re good to go.” His eyes dodged back toward the yard behind him. “What do you think?”
Fighting a crushing mix of anticipation and despair, Jennifer reluctantly followed his gaze, willing it not to be true. Finished? Already?
But what she saw siphoned the strength from her limbs. Painted across the pool surface was a splash of light, cherubs dipping their toes in its crystal clear water. Hanging from the arbor were the first blooms of Mandevilla. And there, right in front of her, a new carpet of lawn.
Though she had completely missed it. Thick and lush, it appeared as though it had been there for years. Up on her patio, tucked behind a cluster of giant, white bird of paradise, was her outdoor fireplace. Funny, but she couldn’t recall exactly when it had gone in. Allowing her gaze to fall around her, she realized her yard was reminiscent of a Mediterranean paradise.
The perfect setting for a garden wedding.
She pulled her gaze up to meet his. Or in her case, a wonderful place to spend the summer alone. “It’s fine...”
His expression reflected the hit. “I thought it turned out well...”
Hating that her limp compliment nicked his pride, Jennifer fumbled to recover, “It did, it is, but...”
It was clear by the glaze of detachment sliding over his eyes, Jax wasn’t listening.
But struggling against the shift in tide, the finality of the moment, it was all she could manage. He was leaving! But he couldn’t—she wasn’t ready for her job to be finished, for them to be finished...
This was to be their beginning.
“Keep water on the grass or it will die,” he said flatly, as though it was just a yard to her, as good as any other in the neighborhood, though both knew he worked overtime to make this one special. “I’ll mail you my invoice.” With that he turned to leave.
“Jax—wait.” Instinctively, she reached out to stop him but smacked into the car door. “Don’t go...” Please. Not yet.
He turned, his jaw set in a rigid line.
“I thought maybe, we could...” she stammered, uncomfortable with his stare that cut right through her. What was she supposed to do now? Ask him out? Confess her feelings?
Jax remained mute, expectation settled square in his eyes.
Jennifer shrank beneath his glare. He felt cold, distant. There was none of his usual warmth, none of the tenderness from her dream, none of the love and desire in his eyes...
She wanted to slap herself. What did she expect?
It was a dream! A dream, darn it! Jackson Montgomery wasn’t some figment of her imagination—he was a man—with an agenda, feelings
Jennifer felt cornered. She was trapped by her fantasy, trapped by foolish desire. It was one thing to dream about a man, it was another entirely to face him—in the flesh!
The space between them quickly became awkward.
Jennifer blurted, “I can write you a check. Right now. If you’ll come inside—"
“That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s no problem,” she assured. “I have time...”
“Don’t go to any trouble on my behalf. I don’t need it.”
Ouch. “Really,” her shoulders slumped, “it’s no problem.”
“Mail it.”
“Sure,” she mumbled. So much for her musings...where the two of them exchanged nervous smiles, both interested in pursuing the possibilities, yet uncertain how to begin.
Hesitant, but interested.
Jax was interested in one thing. Leaving.
“Thanks for the business.” The kick to her stomach was swift and sure as he turned, and stalked off to his truck.
So that’s it? No asking for referrals, no call me if you need anything? Jennifer couldn’t believe it. It was over. Just like that. The job was finished and so was he.
Disappointment shattered inside her, like shards of delicate crystal. Interested?
No, this man clearly wasn’t interested.
But hadn’t he said that from the start? Hadn’t she said as much to Sam? Watching him climb into his vehicle, Jennifer knew the answer. Fantasy was a fool’s game.
Jax slid onto the bench seat, slamming the door closed behind him. He gunned the engine to life, heedless to the explosion of exhaust as he threw it into reverse. No need to tie up loose ends. His tools were cleaned up and packed in the bed of his truck.
He had only been waiting to see her.
Without another glance in her direction, he barreled out of her drive, cursing himself for looking forward to her arrival, a glowing reception of his work. Dr. Jennifer Hamilton was hard to please—he had known that going in—but he deserved better than a lackluster response.
Hers was an insult.
But worse, he actually thought he’d made a dent in that shiny exterior of hers—especially after the compliments she doled out the other day. The woman sounded like she meant what she said. While he may not have a shot in hell for anything more serious, Jax believed they had become friends.
He believed wrong.
Today’s paltry response proved it. Not only couldn’t she find it in herself to say the words “good job,” or “thanks for finishing it a week ahead of schedule,” she had quickly dismissed him. Eager to pay her bill, it boiled down to money.
In her eyes, he was one more laborer to pay.
Bitterness churned deep. You’re a lawn guy. I’m a doctor.
Friends? We're nowhere near the same league.
Jax wrestled with old disappointment, battling the similarities between Jennifer Hamilton and most women he knew. Women today were shallow. Most wanted something from him, expected something from him.
Like his father. Jax tried to shake the correlation, but he couldn’t. It was always there, lurking in the background of his mind. To some extent, he guessed it always would be. His father would never accept him for who he was, not until he chose to fall in line with his expectations, his ideals, that is.
Something he never intended to do. Jax would not change who he was—not for his father, not for a woman. Not even for Jennifer Hamilton, the woman he had begun to believe might prove different.
Chapter Thirty-One
Monday dawned and with it, a most startling development. Her mother decided she wanted to see the garden. Today. No wedding, no rush, she wanted to visit. Today.
Jennifer had been stunned. Jax was due by sometime today to meet with the inspector.
Maybe I can meet this Jackson.
What if her mother asked questions, made innuendos? Jax had no idea of her feelings. No idea she had broken off the engagement. The entire situation could unravel.
She would look the fool.
Caged by her thoughts, Jennifer felt cornered. She couldn’t refuse, but could she delay? Could she persuade her mother to wait a day?
What if she didn’t have another day? At this point, there was no reason to hold on...
The doctor in Jennifer knew her mother’s condition was a pendulum. It swung between good days and bad. This visit to the garden could mark the final pass.
As she marched through the lobby of Fairhaven, Jennifer’s emotions flipped between fear and dread; fear for her mother’s well-being, dread they may run into Jax.
She couldn’t face him. Not with her mother present, not after she had revealed everything.
She’d have to prepare her mother. She’d have to ensure her silence. But the minute Jennifer tried to visualize the discussion, the absurdity hit. Who was she kidding?
Beatrice Hamilton would do as she pleased.
Jennifer groaned as she rounded the nursing station. Well, the likelihood of Jax being there when they arrived was slim. It was getting late.
She checked her watch. Four o’clock. He’d most certainly have met with the inspector by now. City employees didn’t work overtime.
Jennifer hurried past elegant oil paintings lining the walls, seeing not a one. Her mother was waiting. For her visit.
“Dr. Hamilton.”
Jennifer whirled around at the call of her name.
“May I have a word with you?”
Fear scurried into her heart. Her mother’s attending physician. “Of course.”
Dr. Roberts walked toward her. “I understand your mother will be visiting your home this afternoon.”
“She is.”
“You need to understand her condition is fragile. Her bones are compromised, and can be broken easily.”
Jennifer’s emotions turned to grit. Her teeth clenched together. She understood what was at stake. His warning was out of line. “We will be extremely careful with her, Dr. Carter.” She slipped her hands into the front pockets of her coat. “This trip is to buoy her condition, not break it.”
“Yes,” he said, eyes patently masking thoughts to the contrary. “I only wanted to make certain you were aware of the risks. Which are numerous.”
“I am. We have arranged for special transportation, a wheelchair, including a nurse for assistance in moving her to and from the backyard. She’s taken her pain medication, but we’re taking more in case she experiences the need. Is there anything else you would recommend?”
“I think that about covers it.” His curt response underscored his disapproval.
“Thank you, but if you will excuse me, it’s getting late. I need to be on my way.”
“Yes, very well.” He turned and walked off in the opposite direction.
Jennifer went to her mother’s room and found her already seated in her wheelchair, ready to make the trip. Fussing with her silk blouse, her hair curled, makeup done, a bright pink lipstick had been applied to her lips. Beside her, a nurse finished pumping the last dose of medicine through her IV.
“Jenny!”
Jennifer fought back tears at the sight of her mother’s excitement. The way her eyes lit up only served to twist the blade. This was a visit.
Not her wedding day.
“All ready?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The next half-hour was spent loading her into the patient transport van, Jennifer wincing with pain over every step her mother took. No longer taken for granted, walking had become a grueling event. Climbing stairs; excruciating.
Yet as she helped lift her up and inside, Jennifer could feel the determination in her mother’s grip. Taking her to see the garden was the right thing to do. It was.
Chatting as though they were two women out for a drive, her mother ignored the white elephant riding with them. Beautiful outside, it seemed she was enjoying the moment, savoring her time away from Fairhaven.
Sitting beside her, Jennifer couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling. Like the last meal, finality wedged in hard. There would be no future rides, nor future visits. Bittersweet, both knew this was the end of the road.
As they turned into her drive, Jennifer placed a hand on her mother’s arm. “We’re here,” she announced quietly, anxiety spooking a flock of nerves into flight through her chest.
The van made a wide slow arc around the fountain before coming to a stop. Her mother gasped. “Oh, Jenny!” She clasped onto her daughter’s hand. “It’s beautiful!”
Splashing with life, the tiered fountain reigned prominent in the front yard. More than making for a regal entry, it proved a wonderful welcome home.
Exactly as Jax intended.
Jennifer spotted the tail end of his truck in the back and trepidation closed her throat. “There’s more.” Much more.
“But the fountain is gorgeous,” her mother admired softly, “and the flowers...” She turned to face her daughter, eyes glowing in approval. “They are incredible. I love your choices. The tropical flavor...it really suits your home.”
Jennifer could only nod. Jax suggested them.
The van nurse retrieved the wheelchair as Jennifer rose to help her mother from her seat and down the few steps. Beatrice was shaky, but anxious to begin her tour. “Let’s get to it!”
Once outside, the nurse allowed Jennifer to take control of her mother’s wheelchair, while she hovered in the background. Jennifer understood. She was available, if needed.
Beyond the fountain, the lantanas’ hues of sunset stole the attention, their tricolor blooms soaking up the late afternoon sun filtering in through the treetops. Beatrice pointed to them. “What a nice, homey feel those give to the house.”
Jennifer acknowledged the remark, but kept a keen eye out for Jax. “They’ve filled in considerably since planted.”
“The selection complements your home to perfection.”
“I’ve learned it’s a complicated process,” she replied absently, preparing herself for his appearance any second.
“Not when you know the basics of your color wheel.” Placing elbows on her armrests, Beatrice looked up at her daughter and smiled. “Then it’s only a matter of choosing what appeals to you.”
Jennifer nodded, anticipation strangling her pleasure.
“I want to see the back.”
Of course you do, she rued. Pushing her mother’s wheelchair, the three made their way around the front
drive to the back—and undoubtedly—where Jax would be.
“Oh darling, I love the hibiscus!”
One eye on the hunt for Jax, she replied, “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”
“And they’re so full...”
“Yes,” she murmured, glancing about the yard. Where was he? That was his truck, though she saw no sign of an inspector’s vehicle.
“Jennifer, push me to the back.”
The sharp command pulled her back into the moment. Crossing into open yard, Jennifer felt like she was approaching an awaiting firing squad.
“Oh, it’s lovely...”
Jennifer followed her mother’s gaze to the arbor. Positioned before the fountain wall, laden with red-flowering vine, it was an utterly perfect setting for bride and groom.
Jennifer swallowed a lump of regret.
“It looks as though it were made for the occasion...”
“It was,” escaped the soft admission.
Beatrice turned to her daughter in surprise. “He knows about the wedding, then?”
“Yes.” Guilt flipped in her belly. “He designed the entire area with that in mind.”
Beatrice clasped her hands together, then allowed them to fall to her lap. “How thoughtful of him.”
Yes. Jennifer’s heart sank. The man was thoughtful to a fault. Unlike her.
“Dr. Hamilton!”
Beatrice turned at the sound of the male voice.
Jennifer froze. Her heart stopped.
She eased around to see him.
Dressed in his customary Montgomery Landscape shirt, khaki shorts and work boots, his hair the usual mess of tufts, Jax stood by her bedroom window. A look of mild surprise brushed across his features.
Jennifer swallowed hard. Judgment day.
He smiled.
Her heart split.
“Shall we?” her mother prodded.
Jennifer’s pulse sprinted through her limbs. No. Let’s not go anywhere near him.
Beatrice fussed with her hair.
Forcing her body to react, Jennifer pushed the chair toward him, but not far. As usual, Jax met her halfway.
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