Chapter 35
Jackson
Lena slowly shook her head, a tear escaping from one of her eyes, and I stepped toward her, brushing it away with my thumb. My fingers held her cheek as her gaze fell to the floor. “Jackson, I …”
I pulled her close against me and tilted her chin up, giving me access to her lips. “I’m sorry, Lena,” I said. “I’m so very sorry he hurt you. I’m not him. I won’t hurt you I promise. I will never hurt you.”
Her lips parted as I said all those words, our mouths mere centimeters apart, and she sighed into me, surrendering to me as if those words held some magic potion in them. I held her close until there was no space between us, as though I couldn’t get close enough. She opened her mouth and allowed me in. The tip of my tongue brushed softly against hers, and I let her reach out for mine. I didn’t want to hurt her or take what she didn’t want to give. I wanted to be careful with her, more careful than I’d ever been with a woman in my entire life. I’d never cared or thought about what I took before. A kiss had always been just a kiss, never meaning much. This time, I cared because Lena deserved it. She deserved to be kissed the way a woman should be kissed, with tenderness and respect, but I couldn’t keep the heat out.
We continued the kiss. I didn’t want to stop, ever, but I knew if we didn’t we’d soon be doing more than just kissing. Well, at least that’s what I would have wanted. Lena, on the other hand, wasn’t ready. I knew this. After what seemed like too little time as far as I was concerned, she slowly pulled away.
We just stood there in the kitchen. I waited for her to say something, but instead of talking about what just happened, she walked out of the kitchen, grabbed her keys, and left, slowly shutting the door. I listened to the quickness of her steps as she ran up the stairs to the cottage.
I didn’t know what to do. She’d been through so much with that monster jerk she’d married. She’d been wronged beyond comprehension in the worse possible way, and she needed time, healing time before I thought she’d be ready for me. She needed time, space. I knew that, and I’d give it to her, but damn it, it was painful to do.
Chapter 36
Lena
I stood with my back against the door and sank down to the floor. My God, what just happened? I couldn’t believe I let Jackson kiss me. Just earlier in the evening I’d made a promise to Brodie, and myself, that I wouldn’t get involved with Jackson that way.
I skimmed my finger over my lips, remembering his touch, the texture, the taste. Jackson’s lips had been so soft; he’d been so tender and loving. I could tell he was holding back the second time because of the way he let me take control. The first kiss had been more urgent, but the second, the second kiss was tender and caring. I’d never been kissed like that before. I licked my lips and thought about what to do.
Oh God, I wanted him so much.
I got up, yanked off my clothes and got into the sweat pants and T-shirt that belonged to Jackson so I could have him close to me. I reached over and flipped on the iPod he’d lent me and climbed under the covers, bringing them up under my chin; a poor substitute for Jackson’s warm body. Music always soothed my spirit, and it was comforting to sleep by, particularly the Christina Perri album he’d downloaded to it. As the song, “Arms” played softly, I wrapped my own around my shoulders and thought about Jackson’s strong biceps, pretending he was right there beside me, rocking me to sleep.
But I couldn’t sleep. How could I sleep thinking about that kiss and the song he said was about me. I couldn’t believe he thought about me that much to write a song. I laid there for about fifteen minutes more, and decided to get up and make some tea.
Chapter 37
Jackson
Five minutes after Lena ran upstairs, Brodie came home. I was glad he missed the show.
“Hey,” I said, and he grunted as he walked to the fridge. Something was off. “What’s going on?”
He turned toward me, holding a bag of peas to his face.
“What the hell happened to you?” I asked.
“Some joker thought he’d use my face for a punching bag, that’s what happened. Parades seem to bring the worst, as well as the best, out of people, and some of them can’t hold their liquor, particularly when their wife is cheating on them.”
“You were with a married woman?”
“She was here for the parade from Fall River Valley, and I didn’t know she was married. She lied about that.”
“Ya think?”
He gave me a sour look. “Don’t judge.”
I laughed. “I won’t judge you if you don’t judge me, little brother.”
He gave me a side-ways glare. “What happened now?”
“I kissed Lena tonight,” I blurted it out, too excited about it not to.
“She’s still married.”
“Legally separated as of three days ago, and what about not judging?”
“Okay. Well, it was bound to happen, I guess.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“You said not to judge.”
“I know, but I still want your opinion.”
“No, you don’t. You only want it if it’s something you want to hear.”
He had a point, so I let it go. I knew how he felt about it, and I didn’t want to hear it, but I’d hoped that because of his messed up evening, he’d try to see things a little differently. Brodie had a bizarre way of dealing with things. I knew this by the way he used women. In his mind, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, just having fun. But I knew what tormented my little brother.
I couldn’t stand not knowing how Lena was feeling about the kiss, and I couldn’t stand not knowing whether or not she hated me now. So I drove into town and picked up some sticky buns from Traci’s Bakery. Luckily, I caught Traci just as she was locking up for the night.
I knocked on Lena’s door, and she opened it a crack.
“Hi,” I held up the pink box. “We never had dessert.” I gave her the most charming smile I had. “And these are the best cinnamon buns in the entire county, something everyone should try at least once. And it’s my way of saying ‘thank you’ for dinner.” That was all true, but it was also my excuse to see her.
I’m sure she saw through my lame excuse after I’d said it by the way she smiled and slowly opened the door wider for me to enter. She turned toward the kitchen. “I just finished boiling some water for tea. I’ll get us a cup.”
I set the box of pastries on the small coffee table and watched her in the kitchen. She’d changed into the sweatpants I’d given her. I wondered if she slept in them, and had to pull myself from the vision of her under the sheets, without the pants. We sat at the table, drank the tea and ate the sticky buns, avoiding any and all discussion about the kiss, but I knew we were both thinking about it.
After a short while, “Distance” by Christina Perri and Jason Marz played softly in the background from the iPod station I’d lent her. The songs on it were my collection, and I knew them well. Such an appropriate song for our situation. It was almost as if the iPod knew I was coming up, and wanted to give me a message. The unspoken tension between us was deafening, and when the song changed to another on the same album, I couldn’t help myself as Christina Perri’s voice gave me all the instructions I needed and I put my arms around Lena and held her close as we swayed to the words of “Arms.”
When the song ended, I led her over to the small bed/sofa. Without saying anything, she sat down, and I sat next to her. She rested her head on my shoulder and I draped my arm around her.
“Will you tell me the words?”
“The words?”
“The lyrics. To the song you’re writing.”
“Ah …” Was I ready to reveal them? I shuffled my body so that she’d be more comfortable. “My guitar is all the way downstairs.”
She sighed heavily. “Can’t you just say the words?”
“I guess,” I said, and picked up her hand, rubbing my thumb over her fingers as I spoke.
> Fleeing demons from the past
Only to find she can’t escape
Her wounds are deep, scars are masked
By her pain as she moves too late
Fleeing demons from the past
She longs for days without the pain
Healing wings for hope at last
When ev’ry turn, it seems the same
All her fears can fall away
Now that she’s right here with me
I felt the wetness of her tears on my shirt.
“Come on, baby, you’re exhausted.” I helped her stretch out onto the bed. I knew she had to be tired after the busy day; it being her first day out. I pulled the cover over her and slid in next to her, holding on to her. At first, I thought she might object, but when she scooted her body up against mine, fitting hers into every curve of mine as if we were molded together, I realized that I shouldn’t have worried. She didn’t need to comment on the lyrics, I wasn’t looking for anything, I only hoped she understood them. When she began to sob, my heart broke, and I knew she had. She cried for a while, and I held her close. We stayed like that for the rest of the night, her sleeping in my arms.
Chapter 38
Lena
It was finally Monday. I thought it would never come. Jackson spent the next two nights with me upstairs, and he put the music to the beautiful lyrics he’d written. It was amazing how he got me. The comfort of his body next to mine while I slept was amazing. I managed to leave the hammer on the floor instead of under my pillow, now. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep without him again. He never tried to kiss me again, but I knew he wanted to. He was the kindest, most understanding man I’d ever met. Well, I didn’t know many, but my track record up until then hadn’t exactly been the best, other than Weezer. But Weezer was just a friend. Not someone I’d ever want to be sleeping next to me. He’d been too much like an older brother, always trying to protect me, and sometimes, I had to admit, worrying about me. I suppose I should have listened to him when he begged me not to marry Troy. He’d been right, but never, ever said those awful I-told-you-so words. I realized that Weezer and Jackson were a lot alike. Except Weezer always treated me like a little sister, and with Jackson, there was never any I-want-to-be-your-brother attitude going on. With Jackson, I always got I-think-you’re-hot-and-want-to-hold-you-next-to-me kind of vibes.
My first day at the bar went by without a hitch. Brodie had me clearing tables and delivering drinks mostly. He actually seemed pleased to have me there, and was more than willing to go out of his way to make me feel comfortable. I’d wondered what I’d done to change his mind about me. There weren’t very many customers, so the day sort of dragged on, but I was happy to be out and seeing what little of the community I did. Jackson said that Mondays were busier during the football season, but assured me that once the hockey playoffs started in April, business would pick up again.
The days were flying by, and most nights after work, Jackson let me use his spare guitar, and we played together. We usually played down at his place, but I always insisted that I go upstairs to sleep, and even though Jackson insisted on coming with me, claiming that he knew I slept better when he was there—I couldn’t argue with that—I still wanted to go upstairs to give Brodie the privacy I knew he wanted. Brodie liked having a variety of women at his disposal, bringing many of them home to spend the night, and made no apologies for his actions. In spite of his sexual habits, I actually started to like Brodie, and I think the feeling was mutual. I worried about his promiscuity, but I’d never had the nerve to mention it. That was Jackson’s job, but he only got on his case jokingly, though I knew from conversations we’d had that he didn’t think Brodie was doing himself any favors with the way he treated the ladies. He wasn’t mean to them at all, in fact, from what I’d witnessed, Brodie was extremely sweet to them, just noncommittal. Brodie was handsome, looking similar to Jackson, so I understood the lure, but I didn’t understand the why. Local girls knew about Brodie’s lechery and still flocked to his side, wanting his attention. They still came home with him, knowing that he’d most likely be with someone else the very next night. Jackson had joked more than once that Brodie should take out stock in one of the larger, well-known condom companies.
The month flew by, and before I knew it, I was waiting tables and taking orders as if I’d been doing it my entire life. I was having a blast. Before I knew it, one month turned into two, and I hadn’t forgotten about my promise to myself to leave after I’d paid Jackson and Brodie back for their hospitality. I was just sad that I needed to leave. It was going to be one of the hardest things for me to do. Jackson and I spent every night together playing songs, and then later retreating upstairs to sleep, but usually the first thirty minutes or so of that turned into a grand make out session. We’d never go any further than kissing. He’d never pushed me to go any further, and quite frankly, I didn’t think I was ready anyway.
Friday nights were the busiest at the bar, and Jackson usually played with his band. I walked slowly across the room, a tray balancing on the palm of my hand as Jackson began to speak through the mic and the entire room grew quiet.
“I have a treat for you all,” he began, a smile twitched on his face. We have a lovely guest performance tonight.” My eyes instantly flicked up to the stage to see whom he might be talking about, and he was looking right at me. My face grew hot even before he said my name. Well, he used my fake name, but still. “Ladies and Gents, if you will, help me give a warm welcome to the lovely, Lana Martin.” My heart leaped into my throat and I shook my head. “Come on up here, baby, let’s show these folks what an angel sounds like.”
I just stood, staring at him until someone took the tray from me. I smiled briefly in surprise and looked back up at the stage. People started yelling and clapping, and then I felt a hand at my back giving me a little push. I turned around to see Brodie smiling at me. “Go ahead,” he coaxed as he stood there holding the tray I’d been carrying.
I walked slowly up the steps, taking Jackson’s outstretched hand. I sat on the chair next to him and strapped on the guitar he handed me. “You ready?” he asked. I nodded.
We sang one of the songs we’d been practicing, the Christine Perri and Jason Marz duet of Distance. It had become one of our favorites to sing together, and one he knew I was very familiar with. After the song, everyone in the bar stood and clapped. “See that, baby? That’s for you. A standing ovation.”
I beamed, proudly. I’d missed performing so much, and that night made me remember why.
Chapter 39
Jackson
I couldn’t have been more proud of Lena. She stayed up on stage with us and performed two more numbers. I’d brought home a bottle of champagne to celebrate, and as we entered the cottage, I flipped on the light and stared at the small bed. I’d been sleeping up here holding on to Lena every night, but I had to admit, I missed my own bed. I wanted to stay with her, but I didn’t relish sleeping in that tiny bed tonight.
“Lena.”
She turned to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Yes?” she said with a grin that seemed permanently put on her face ever since that first song we performed, and I was damn glad to see it. I didn’t want to ruin anything, but I needed a good night’s sleep. “Will you come with me downstairs to my place? Sleep there tonight?”
She followed my eyes to the small sofa we’d been sharing. “What, you don’t like snuggling close on that?”
“I love snuggling close, but I’d also love to do it in a bigger bed where my ass isn’t hanging off the edge.
She giggled then let out a heavy sigh. “I love sleeping with you Jackson. And I love what we do before we go to sleep, but if I go downstairs it would be like me living down there again, and Brod …”
“Don’t worry about Brodie,” I interrupted. “He’s changed his mind about you now that he’s seen the light …”
“And what light would that be?”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “The
light that glows from the top of your head like an angel’s halo when you sing.”
I laughed. “Now I have a halo? You must have been standing behind me when I was looking in the mirror or something because I think the shine came from your own halo.”
“Well, now that we’ve established that we are both celestial beings, can we please go stroke each other’s feathers in my bed?”
“Okay. Just let me get my stuff.”
I let out a puff of air, and helped her to gather her sweatpants and stuff.
The house was dark, which meant Brodie was still at the bar. Good. Even though I’d said he changed his tune about Lena, I still didn’t want to run into him on our way to my room. It was only eleven, and I knew Brodie would be out until at least one in the morning. The bar closed at two o’clock, but Brodie liked to let Derrick close on Friday nights so he could have some fun with a girl, and from what I knew, Friday nights were his best chance for that.
Beautifully Wounded (The Beaumont Brothers) Page 14
