I was whimpering softly as I came down from the greatest high I’d ever had, and Jackson held me in his arms, his limbs wrapped around mine, giving me a loving squeeze. “Mark this, Lauren. You’re all mine now. And no one, no one gets this but me.”
I couldn’t answer, my body and brain fried, but I did turn toward him, looking deeply into his eyes, not losing any of their fervor even after he just came hard in me. He began to stroke my hair the way I liked, and then stroked the apple of my cheek with his thumb. My heart seized, and I felt as if I were freefalling off the edge of the world but never landing hard. I knew I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I needed to say it to him.
“I love you, Jackson,” I whispered.
Even though I had obviously disregarded all of my mama’s rules, I was still nervous and unsure about saying “I love you” first. There was still a Southern girl in me who liked when the man took the lead. I had known I loved Jackson ever since he served as my shield against my folks (who now were his biggest fans), but considering how soon it was in the relationship, I had held back, not wanting to scare him off. But at that moment, I was going to burst if I didn’t say it.
So I did. And he blinked. Twice.
He didn’t say it back. Oh shit, he’s not saying anything!
Now I felt nervous. “Jax, honey, give me something here.”
I kept studying his face, looking for the slightest clue as to what he was thinking, if he was feeling for me what I already felt for him. His eyes were wide, whether in shock or in awe, I couldn’t tell. He moistened his lips and opened his mouth, but before he spoke, we both heard someone pounding on his front door and hitting his doorbell staccato style.
“What the fuck?” he snarled.
Then he withdrew from my body, tossed the condom in the trash and threw on his jeans and a shirt in a flash, walking out of the bedroom and to the front of his house.
I had my change of clothes in Jackson’s bedroom with me. I made quick work getting out of the rest of the lingerie and into jeans, boots and a long-sleeved T-shirt. I shoved all the other stuff into my bag like it was a dirty secret I wanted to hide from the invaders outside the door.
All the while I was attempting to keep calm. Maybe he was just surprised I said it first? Perhaps he had been going to say it back when we got interrupted. Of course, there was the possibility he didn’t feel the same way.
Before I went too far into such dark thoughts, I recalled something my mother had said to me once, that when you love someone, part of that means always assuming the best of them first. You loved them, then they deserved your faith and confidence unless they proved that they didn’t. I decided to chalk up what just happened to bad timing and wait and see what he had to say later.
In the other room, it sounded like the circus had come to town. Screaming toddlers, laughter and a couple of Irish brogues echoed through his high-ceilinged, cavernous space. I may not have been with Jackson for too long, but I knew that meant his family was there, and from the sound of it, they were all there. Early.
I had met some of them once, his mother, Maggie, his older sister, Fiona, his cousins Shannon and Kiera. They were loud and in-your-face-and-your-business, but they did it in a way that felt like you were in the fold, not under a microscope. I had liked that, liked them, and Jackson had told me I was a big hit not just because I was me, but because I was the opposite of Lexie in every way. That alone, he told me, was automatically a big plus in their book. They thought she was an entitled brat who drank too much, and as Jackson had said, “You know someone’s a fucked-up drunk when a bunch of Irish tell ya it’s too much of the sauce.”
I came out to the main area and saw not only mama Maggie, cousins Shannon and Kiera, and older sister Fiona, but also a slew of others I recognized from the photos he had in his home. They not only brought themselves, but they also made sure to bring enough sustenance to feed an army, an Irish army. There was a huge vat of Irish stew and Dublin coddle on his stove, some Irish colcannon being served up, and—yep, you guessed it—Irish soda bread warming in the oven.
“Lauren!” Jackson’s sister, Fiona, called out to me, a huge smile on her face as she jogged over, then turned around and yelled out to everyone, “Hey everyone, Lauren’s here!”
A huge roar swept through the space, calling my name. Like I was one of them, part of their family. Fiona took it upon herself to introduce me around, telling everyone my name, that I was Jackson’s woman and that I was “sane, sober and sweet”.
In other words, not like Lexie.
I went with it, more than happy at the time to take advantage of being the un-Lexie choice, as long as it meant I had a chance to get to know the people who meant so much to a man who meant the world to me.
They were incredible.
Besides all of them having the most gorgeous, ink-black hair I’d ever seen, along with blue eyes that looked like they were Photoshopped, they all talked loud, laughed easy, and teased one another relentlessly. And the food was off-the-hook delectable. My favorite kind, home cookin’ done with love and no regard for time.
Suddenly I felt a tug on my pant leg. I looked down to see a little boy, about four years old, looking up at me with eyes the size of saucers. “Are you gonna marry my uncle Jax?”
Awkward! I bent down so we were eye level. “You must love your uncle very much.” I was hoping the redirect worked as well on his nephew as it did on mine.
He beamed at me and spontaneously started jumping up and down. “Uncle Jax is awesome! He lets me have sleepovers and stay up late and ride Charlie!”
“Sounds like he’s the best uncle ever. What’s your name?”
He puffed up his chest and placed his little fists on his hips, like he was a posing superhero. Yes, it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
“I’m Connor. And you’re Lauren!”
I gave him a warm smile. “Yep, that’s right.”
“My mama said we should thank baby Jesus that Uncle Jax met you and got away from that bloodsucker, Lexie. I didn’t know vampires were real. You’re not a bloodsucker, are you?”
Out of the mouths of babes. “No, Connor, I’m not. Are you happy about that or sad?”
He clutched his belly and giggled wildly, like I had just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “You’re so crazy! I don’t want my uncle marrying a vampire! That’s gross. One of my cousins already told me that Lexie wasn’t a real vampire cuz she’s really a gold digger. Are you a gold digger too?”
Just then, his mama swooped in, literally picking Connor up by the waist and hoisting him in her arms. “Oookay there, li’l man. That’s enough show and tell of the family gossip there!” She turned her eyes to me, already looking mortified. “Sorry ’bout that, Lauren.”
I shook my head and laughed. “No harm done, Fiona. He’s quite a conversationalist.”
She grimaced and then blew some stray hairs out of her face. “Yeah, I bet that was Southern girl speak for ‘your son won’t shut it’!”
“Nah, he’s adorable. If I really was interested in being passive aggressive, I’d say, ‘Oh that Connor and his mama. Bless their hearts.’”
“Really?” Fiona was intrigued.
I nodded and leaned in as if I was sharing some well-kept secret. “Oh yeah. That’s my people’s way of telling someone to suck it. So really, we’re good.”
With that, we both busted out laughing. Fiona and I had hit it off from the very first time we met, and leave it to Jackson’s sister to help me forget the relationship semi-mishap from earlier that night.
Fiona handed Connor off to her husband and turned back to me. “Awkward blurting out from my four-year-old aside, you should know how much we all love you for Jackson. We’re glad he’s found you.”
I gave a weak smile in return. “I really appreciate that, Fiona.”
Jackson’s sister’s happy expression
fell and she studied me for a couple of seconds. “What’s wrong? What did my brother do?”
Man, Jackson wasn’t kidding when he said the women in his family were part witch. What the heck had I done to give myself away?
“I really need to work on my poker face,” I joked. “But seriously, it’s no big deal. We’ll work it out.”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed on me. “Girl, dontcha lie to me. If Jax messed up, there’s time to fix it. I’ll get my ma over here.” Then before I had a chance to react, Fiona scanned the room and yelled out, “Ma! Where are ya?”
I covered my face with my hands, blushed hot crimson and wanted to be able to disappear by blinking my eyes, like they did in 1970s sitcoms.
“Shh! Fiona! Stop it!”
When I dared to peek up from my hands, Jackson was standing right there, looking none too pleased with either me or his sister.
“There you are, Jackson Kieran Sullivan.” Fiona had her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her husband, Michael, still had their toddler in tow while he was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“Ah Christ, Fiona, stay out of your brother’s business. He’s a grown man.”
She whipped her head around long enough to give him a glare and the edge of her tongue. “Michael, I’ve got this.”
“No one’s got nothin’ over here, Fiona.” Jackson was seething, but I could tell he was trying to keep it together.
Then his mother walked over from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, looking puzzled and pissed off at the same time.
“For the love of God what the hell’s goin’ on here?” Jackson’s mother had layered black hair with streaks of gray and only stood at five foot two, but there was no doubt she was the matriarch and when she spoke, everyone minded her.
Jackson ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the ends. “Ma, it’s just Fiona stickin’ her nose in where it don’t fuckin’ belong. As usual.”
“Excuse me for wanting to make sure you don’t blow the best relationship you’ve ever had!”
“Fiona, enough!”
“But Ma—”
“Shut it!” Maggie waved her hand between the two of them. “I’m dead serious, Fiona. Michael’s right. What happens between Lauren and Jax remains between ’em.”
Jackson grumbled in agreement.
“And you! Don’t be afraid to reach out to the family if you’re unsure about how to deal with your woman. Might as well take advantage of having grown up in a full henhouse, son.”
Jackson smirked and gave her a chin lift. “Understood, Ma. Can I have a word with my woman? In private?”
She returned his improved mood with a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s your house, Jackson. Have at it.”
He slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. He bent his mouth to my ear and just the feel of his warm breath against my skin was enough to make me shiver. “Didn’t get to finish talkin’ earlier, and even though this is not my—”
“Um, I’m really sorry to do this, but Jax?”
He gave a sideways glance at his cousin, Shannon, who looked as if she’d rather impale herself on a cocktail fork than be in front of us at that moment.
“Not a good time, cousin,” he rumbled without moving a muscle.
“But, um…someone’s here to see you.” Shannon was the only quiet one of the family, so I felt for her that she was the bearer of news Jackson didn’t want to hear.
Considering I was dying to hear what he was going to say, I was really not thrilled she was getting in the way of that either. Again, not her fault, and I knew that, but I was still peeved and feeling as if it were a universal conspiracy to keep Jax and me from sharing a more heartfelt moment.
“Who the hell is here?”
Shannon answered by turning her head toward the door. Standing in front of everyone was, of all people, his ex, Lexie. She had one hand on her stomach and, in the other hand, what looked to be a sonogram photo.
Chapter Seven
Rule making and heart breaking
Commence rule breaking and heart mending
Didn’t matter that a roomful of people had stopped dead in their places. Also didn’t seem to matter to Lexie that she was in a room full of people quietly cursing her name under their breaths. All that mattered to her was getting to Jackson, and the picture in her hand was a most effective way to get his attention.
As I looked at that sonogram photo, a part of me died. I was quietly praying that her standing there, petting her stomach and holding that photo wasn’t what I thought it was. It was like that moment before a car crash, when your car swerves out of control and you think you still have a chance to save yourself. Then, maybe a second before impact, it hits you that the crash is about to happen. There is nothing to save you now. That was what those few seconds felt like while watching Lexie. Terrifying surrender.
Lexie saw me with Jackson and scrunched up her face, as if she’d been force-fed something sour and rotten tasting, and yet her expression immediately softened as soon as she had Jackson’s eyes on her.
She walked over to him, as if no one else existed in the room, and I couldn’t help but glance in his direction, trying to assess his reaction. My heart dropped because he looked as if he’d been sucker-punched in the gut. My lungs seized, feeling like I’d been dropped through the hole of an ice pond. I was drowning in plain sight.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Lexie cooed to Jackson. “Sorry to interrupt your party.” The overly satisfied, smug look on her face said otherwise. “I just couldn’t wait to get here to give you your present.” She thrust the sonogram at him while slicing me with a triumphant grin. Then turning her eyes back to him, she placed the picture in his hands and placed hers on top of his.
“I’m thirteen weeks pregnant with your baby. I know how much you’ve always wanted to get married and have a family. Now I’m here to give that to you.”
I started doing the math in my head, realizing that Jackson and I had been together since December 31st, and now it was March 7th which meant we’d been together for nine weeks, just a bit over two months. Considering Jackson admitted to me that he had hooked up with Lexie several times since their break-up, it was entirely possible, scarily probable, that this baby was fathered by Jackson.
I took a loud and deep breath through my nostrils, willing myself not to get sick or pass out right in front of everyone. In spite of my efforts, I felt like everything was crumbling, like Lexie had just swooped in and pulled the floor out from under my feet. I was dizzy, internally freefalling into a void. Without realizing it, I had grasped onto Jackson’s arm.
“Son,” I heard his mother call to him, “is this possible? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, please tell me that you haven’t been in bed with this wretched excuse for a woman since you came to your senses and broke things off a year ago!”
Jackson could only answer with a pained expression. I didn’t know whose heart was breaking more, his, his family’s or mine.
“Hey I’m going to be the mother of your next grandchild, so maybe you can shut it!”
“Show some respect, girl,” Maggie retorted. “You’ve been trouble for my boy since day one. How do we know that he’s even the father?”
“What are you implying here, Maggie?”
Jackson’s jaw seemed stuck in a clench, and a couple of muscles in his neck and cheek were twitching. The arctic fury radiating from him was scaring the shit out of me and I wasn’t even its target.
“How the fuck is it possible I got you pregnant when I used a condom every time and you promised me you were on the pill?”
“Not to mention the fact she’s been shackin’ up every weekend ever since you got rid of her drunk ass,” snarled his uncle Donovan, with his arms crossed in front of him, looking just as angry as the rest of them. “And don’t try to deny it. You may not hang at Sully’
s anymore, but me and half of this room have seen you in action over at Connelly’s Pub.”
“Leave ’im alone already.” Fiona looked like she was going to lose it on Lexie, but her voice was too shaky to just be angry. It was like she was pleading with her to be gone for good, probably tired of seeing her brother dragged through it over and over again.
She kept going too. “He’s got something real good now. Let ’im have this, Lexie. If ya care about him at all, leave ’im be.”
“Oh, and I’m not good enough for him?” Lexie snarled, getting in her face.
“Are ya kidding me with that horseshit? You’re a drunk! You—”
“Enough!” Jackson yelled. Every sound in the room immediately ceased. “I’m not doing this. Not here, not now.”
“But Jax!”
“Shut it, Lexie,” he snarled. “You don’t come in here and ambush me. That’s done. Got it?”
“I just want us to—”
“Son, if the baby’s yours, you’re gonna have to marry her.” Maggie looked stricken, as if she were telling someone about a death in the family. Oh God, I knew they were Irish Catholic and that his mother still kept one foot firmly planted in the old country, but would that mean Jax would actually leave me to marry her? And how could I ask him not to do right by his child? Hell, if it were me, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust a woman not in recovery to carry and raise my own flesh and blood, which meant I’d have to have her around me all the time. As much as it would kill me to give up Jackson, I knew there wouldn’t be enough room for me, her and a new baby. It would be important to me that he make sure Lexie didn’t drink while pregnant.
“Wait a second,” I interrupted. “You’re thirteen weeks along. Please tell us you haven’t been drinking during this time. Please say you’re sober and in recovery now—”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me anything, bitch?”
Rule Breaker Page 11
