Taking one last glance around, I notice that Jerry’s light is shining through the bottom of his door. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I get the niggling feeling that something is not right in the pit of my stomach. Thinking that it’s odd the man is here so late, I head over to say good night.
As I reach the door, I realize that the light isn’t from the overhead bulbs, it’s more of a softer glow, and thinking it’s strange but not really putting much weight to it, I knock on the door with a quick, “Jerry, you in there?”
Hearing papers being shuffled around, I know that he is inside and go to turn the door knob, but it’s locked. Again, I get that niggling feeling in my stomach, but am too tired to really care, and I say, “Well, I’m heading out. Have a good evening.” Then I turn to head out to my truck and home.
TWO DAYS LATER I’m walking into the training facility when I run into Jerry. His hands are full and he’s walking across the main entry that leads to the three wings that branch out in different directions, all of which lead out to the practice field. It really is a unique building, simply elegant. Giving him a nod good morning, I proceed toward the coaches and players wing. It isn’t until Jerry calls my name that I actually stop and turn toward the man.
“Jack, you have been here late this week. I just wanted to make sure that everything is okay?”
Knowing that Jerry insists on getting a daily security report, I don’t even think twice of his comment and counter with, “Everything is good, Jerry. Just want to make sure that we are as tight as we can possibly be. But you would know about burning the midnight oil. You have still been here when I’ve left for the night. I noticed your light on the other night and knocked but there was no answer.”
The odd look of surprise on his face has my hackles rising. “I’m glad that everything is getting buttoned up. Any drastic changes being made with the Secondary?”
“Nothing too drastic. We’re working with Ian, getting his footwork quicker. It’ll make him more dangerous in the back field.”
“Good. He’s an asset and has come along really well.” I can tell the man has been distracted since I mentioned him working late too. But he doesn’t want to be rude either. “You have a good practice today.” Jerry turns to go, but then quickly turns back to me and finishes up with, “Thanks for telling me about the lights being on. I must have left them on. I’ll have to remind Pat to check before she leaves at night.”
I need to check my video feed tonight when I get home. Something is just not right here.
Claire
I DON’T KNOW why I’m so nervous, but Jackson coming over for dinner is sending me over the edge. It’s not like we don’t know each other. Okay, well he knows more about me lately than I do him. And yes it’s weird that he has kept track of Sasha and me, but it is also very endearing. I have been worrying about what to make for the past two days and finally settled on beef tenderloin, twice baked potatoes, asparagus, and a chocolate mousse pie.
A gourmet chef by any means I’m not, but I do enjoy being in the kitchen. It’s soothing to me. Sasha and Zoey make fun of me because I’m always experimenting with new recipes that I get from the Cooking Network. I’m addicted to Guy Fieri and Valerie Bertinelli, I just can’t seem to help myself. But after years of making rice, pasta, and soup into actual meals, it’s nice to be able to actually afford what I want to buy and feed it to those I love.
Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile, because me and my girls are completely different. Where Sasha is obsessed with everything Free People and Zoey with anything shoe related, my love is the grocery store. I can spend hours there. Even know all of the checkers by name and the meat and produce managers know me. I think that my passion with cooking stems from having to eat ramen noodles for the first few years that I was on my own. It still amazes me every day that we made it and came out on the other side still intact.
Zoey would watch Sash for me at night so that I could work. I waited tables because that is all that an eighteen year old without a high school diploma could do. I ultimately got my GED and my bachelor’s degree, but up until three years ago, I still waited tables for extra cash. And I did it on my own. Fuck Mac and Jami’s money. That’s for Sash. She doesn’t even know that the money is there, and I’m good with it. Even the money Jackson sent over the years is in a trust for my girl. She deserves the best and that’s just what I am giving her.
That child has wanted for nothing. The dance classes, gymnastics, soccer, and even her first car came out of that trust. It was the day-to-day that I was responsible for. And although we struggled, we survived.
I still cringe when I think about that first apartment we had. What a hole it was but to me it was a palace, and thank God that the girls didn’t realize how bad off I was. When we talk about those days it is in the abstract and in generalities, but is done with love and laughter.
Thinking of those times, I realize how Zoey would sit at the window while Sasha was riding her bike up and down the sidewalk. She wasn’t allowed to cross the street, so up and down that kid would go. The only way Zo would know she was okay was the, “Hi Ya,” every three and a half minutes. She was such a loving kid. It makes my heart happy just thinking of the women they have turned into.
Honestly, as much as I struggled financially back then, I miss those times with Zoey and Sasha. I’ve missed a lot over the years. Friends. Partying. Even me. But I never felt as though I was being left behind. I taught them to dream big, love hard, and reach for the stars. My girls took me with them everywhere. It is only recently that I feel left behind.
I understand about Zoey, I do, marriage and children are all consuming. She knows that I’m still here whenever she needs me. I guess that’s the way of parenting. Raise them the best way you can and then hope that what you have unleashed on the world leaves a bigger foot print than you have.
Sasha’s distance lately scares me. I’m not sure if it is because I don’t approve of her breaking up with Matt or if she is just stretching her wings. Either way, I don’t like it. Even when she stopped by last week to check on me she was distant and withdrawn. I feel my baby slipping away from me and I’m not quite sure that I know how to deal with it.
My cell phone pings with a message as I turn the Oreo pie crust into the pie tin. Picking it up, I laugh to myself and start to respond.
Zoey: Please tell me that you are going to rock that man’s world tonight!
Me: Zo, worry about you and those babies not me! In fact, hasn’t Fumble eaten another pair of shoes?
Zoey: Fuck off, Claire! My shoes are safe and Fumble and I have come to an understanding. I’m head bitch in this house!
Zoey: Plus, Derrick promised me a new pair of Jimmy Choos if I don’t harm him.
Me: Because you need incentive to not harm an animal!
Zoey: What Derrick doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Right now he’s catering to me and I’m going with it. I might even get those Christian Louboutin’s I’ve been dying for.
Me: I’m cooking, Zo. Gotta run. I’ll talk to you later.
Zoey: Just fuck the man okay!!! You’re long overdue…Suz and I want deets! Love you tons!
God how I love my baby sister. She is who I want to be when I grow up. Strong, independent and sassy, unlike my current snarky and kind of bitchy self.
Turning back to my pie, I finish it off by putting the fourth and final egg into my mousse mixture and let it beat for five minutes. I pour it into the pie dish and smooth out the top and place it into the refrigerator to chill.
Talking to the girls, who have been watching me from the door that leads to my sunporch, I say, “Now onto the veggies!” Dallas runs over to me, pops her little legs onto my thighs, and cocks her head. Giving her a good rub and then a nudge, I move over to the island and start slicing the asparagus.
Once I have them laid out on the cookie sheet, I sprinkle them with some EVOO, salt, pepper, and lemon zest, and pop them into the oven.
Just as I grab my marin
ated beef tenderloin out of the refrigerator, the girls shoot off toward the front door and the doorbell rings. Placing the meat on the island, I head to let Jackson in.
Opening the door is like lighting a fire to my heart. Jackson is standing there, blocking the ladies from getting out and looking as sexy as I have ever remembered him looking. He’s not dressed up, just in jeans, a t-shirt that is stretched too tight, and his Acics. His hair is amiss and his blue eyes are solely focused on me, making my insides go all gooey.
Damn the man is beautiful!
Jackson
CLAIRE’S FRONT DOOR opens and I just about swallow my tongue. The gerbera daisies in my hand start to slip loose and I am literally in awe of her beauty. She is no longer that sassy fifteen-year-old. Instead she is this amazingly exquisite woman before me. Snarky, independent, cold and loving. All those contradictions rolled into one woman. And right within my grasp.
“Jesus I want to kiss you right now.”
“What’s stopping you, Jack?”
“God I love how that sounds coming off of your lips.” I look Claire in the eyes and I don’t waiver.
It isn’t until she nods her head toward my hands that I realize I’m still holding the flowers. I lift them up and offer them to her.
Claire takes them from me and buries her face in the posies. “Daisies. They are my favorite! Thank you, Jackson, they’re gorgeous.” She steps back and allows me entrance into her home.
Looking Claire over from head to toe, I realize that she hasn’t had a chance to change from her “At Home Claire” to her “Everyday Claire” and I love it. She’s in yoga pants, a Cowboy’s t-shirt and is barefoot with her red toes twinkling at me. Again, I find her striking.
I really just want to scoop her up and drill my already hard cock into her. But that isn’t something that is going to happen tonight or anytime soon.
Claire clears her throat and says, “Come on back, I’m about to put the meat on the grill. You can play with the girls while I do that.” She turns and gives me the best view I’ve seen in years as she walks away. She stops at the island in the kitchen and looks back at me. “You coming, Jackson?”
Oh, trust me, woman, I’m coming!
Claire
NEVER IN MY life have I wanted to mount anyone, but right here and now, I want to climb Jackson and ride myself raw. Wanting to lick every part of the man in front of me, I grab the tenderloin and head out to the deck as a distraction.
As I walk outside, the girls dance around my legs and then shoot off into the darkness of the backyard. “So, Jackson, I’m guessing medium rare is your choice?”
“I prefer rare, Legs.” His reply has me jumping and chills rising all over my body. He’s too close. Being able to feel his minty breath rush across my neck is too much.
I turn my head and we are almost mouth to mouth. His breath is on my lips and it turns me on. Trying my best to regain what little composure I have, I say breathlessly, “Jackson, if you don’t want your meat burned you’re going to have to back up. I can’t concentrate with you this close.”
“Really, Legs? Because I can’t seem to get close enough.”
I nudge him in his gut to effectively push him away. “Jack, this isn’t a joke. I’ve got thirty-eight dollars’ worth of meat on the grill. I can’t burn it.”
He turns me to face him and says, “Fuck the meat, Claire. I’ll give you the money to replace it. But I need my lips on you, woman.”
Looking up into his eyes, I see the same passion that I know is in mine. “All right then,” is all that comes out of my mouth. The next thing I know I am being devoured whole. Jackson has his lips and hands on me and my entire body comes alive.
It is invigorating and frightening at the same time. Although I want more, I can’t handle the emotions that Jackson’s kiss and hands are bringing forth. It is all consuming and overwhelming at the same time. I need him and want to push him away. I could devour him whole and push what he is offering down his throat at the same time.
I want Jackson more than I have ever wanted anything, including the love of my girls, but it terrifies me more than I can even contemplate. It’s too much. He’s too much.
My fingers find purchase in Jack’s shoulder blades and I pull him in tighter. Jackson is holding me as if his next breath depends on me for his survival. My mind starts to panic from the emotions running through me. Old thoughts of my experience with Brad surface and suddenly I’m fifteen and terrified. My body tenses up and my breathing has become more ragged by the moment.
Sensing my unease, Jackson immediately slows down and takes a step back. He places a kiss on my forehead, and says, “Christ, woman, you destroy me.” With a deep exhale, he adds, “Your meat is going to burn, Legs. You might want to turn it.”
I’m lost. One kiss has completely destroyed my barriers and all I want to do is burrow right into Jackson’s chest and stay there forever. Safe and warm. That is what Jackson is to me. Safety, security…home.
I take a deep breath and regain what is left of my composure. “Grab the girls’ bowls will you? The meat’s about done.”
Jackson
MY HEART IS pounding so fucking hard right now it’s as though I have run flat out for an hour. Not once in my life have I ever had a single kiss that rocked my world to this extent. I only meant to show Claire how I feel about her with that kiss. I wasn’t expecting for it to burn me alive. The woman is so responsive and once she opened up to me, I could hardly hold on. Jesus, if I hadn’t smelled the meat I would have taken her right here on the back deck, in broad freaking daylight.
Walking away from the live wire that is Claire was my only option. I’m standing with my back to her, overlooking the backyard and watching the ladies play. I’m doing my damnedest to calm the beast within. I completely mauled the woman. I’m not gentle in general and my size can be intimidating, but I desire to be gentle with Claire. I don’t want to hurt her, ever.
What the fuck was I thinking? Way to show her that I’m different from Brad. I’m a fucking moron! I am so much better than this!
“Jackson?” Claire’s hesitant voice pulls me out of the verbal berating I’m giving myself. Turning toward her, I am hit again with how much I truly love her. How there isn’t one thing that I wouldn’t do for her.
She deserves poetry and roses. Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Jane Austen and all that shit. But instead I give her, “You are so fucking beautiful right now.”
The blush of pink that rushes up her neck and tints her cheeks clues me in to the fact that Claire doesn’t get many compliments from men. I like that, a lot. Wanting to claim what is mine, I want to beat my chest and roar aloud. I want to give this woman the world, and that crimson on her cheeks tells me that I’m going to be giving her quite a few firsts.
“Dinner’s on.”
The fact that Claire completely dismisses my statement doesn’t fly well with me. I’m going to make sure that she hears, truly hears, how amazing she is from this minute forward. Walking over to the patio set, I can’t help but think how classy Claire is. Even in yoga pants and barefoot she is elegant. And what a table she can set. At some point she put the daisies I brought her in an electric blue vase and accompanied them with white plates, yellow napkins, and the biggest pink wine glasses I have ever seen. It shouldn’t go together but somehow it does. And looks whimsical and classy all at the same time.
Sitting across from Legs makes me want to lay her out on this table that separates us and eat her whole. From her pretty red toes to the bun thingie on top of her head, which I’m still trying to figure out how she got all her hair up there like that. It’s messy with wisps of hair falling around and framing her face. Even without a ton of make-up on Claire still looks like a movie star. Porcelain skin that makes you want to touch it, combined with her enormous green eyes makes my mouth water. Frankly I just want to run my hands through all that red hair and never surface.
Speaking of, I return to the here and now and catch Claire saying,
“…the best way to deal with him is to just ignore him.”
“I’m sorry what?”
Claire looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I was talking about what I think the best course of action is with Brad. If we ignore him and his blatant attempts to goad us, it will only piss him off more and make him tip his hand sooner.”
I’m shocked at Claire’s announcement. Her plan is well thought out and is cold, calculated, and quite cunning. I like it, I like it a lot.
“You, woman, are quite scary. I didn’t think that you would be this manipulative. But you’re right. Brad hates to be ignored and it will only prove to push his hand.”
Sitting in her chair looking as cool as can be, she just nods her head. “You forget, Jackson, I was raised by the best manipulators. They played their friends, families, children, and even the media. If I learned anything from Mac and Jami it was to always make sure that you win. Never underestimate my kindness for weakness. Some of the deadliest creatures on earth are those that are unassuming. Mothers being the most vicious when their children are in the mix. Let’s not forget that Brad’s presence is threatening my child. My life, Jackson!” Claire’s voice is calm, which makes this conversation even more disturbing. It is only at the end that it has escalated to an almost shout. “My child is not a bargaining chip for whatever twisted game he seems to be playing. My girls are completely off the table.”
“I’ll tell you what, Legs”—both Claire and Legs look at me with Legs walking over and putting her head on my thigh—“we’ll play it your way. For now. But I have every intention of monitoring his movements.” I consider telling her my suspicions, but decide to keep my cards tight.
Encroachment (Coach's Shadow Trilogy #2) Page 10
