by Cindi Madsen
The bed dipped with Jackson’s weight as he settled in.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, giving him an incredulous look. “You can’t watch a movie with a shirt on. It’s way too hot up here.” Balancing the bowl of popcorn with one hand so we didn’t end up sleeping on kernels, I tugged at the hem of his shirt. He assisted, gripping the back of it and pulling it up over his head.
“Sometimes I think you just want me for my ripped body,” he said as he tossed his shirt aside, a cocky grin on his face.
“Um, that’s because I do,” I joked as I blatantly ogled him. “I feel like I’ve been very clear about that.”
“Well, then you need to lose your shirt, too. Like you said, it’s too hot up here.” He peeled off my shirt and tossed it onto the floor with his. Despite the fact that he’d seen me in various states of undress countless times by now, he still took his time looking me over, leaving me with a tingly, floaty feeling.
Then he tucked me next to him, and we watched a few minutes of the movie.
I lifted my head from his shoulder. “What am I going to do with my kittens? I can’t seriously keep five cats in my condo.”
“Put out an ad and I bet they’ll go quick.”
That made me sad to think about, regardless of it being the logical thing to do. The little furballs had their eyes wide open now, and they bounced more than walked, never venturing far outside of their bed.
“You can give it a while,” Jackson said. “They need to be with their mom for at least another month or so anyway. If that’s too overwhelming for you, they can stay at my place until we find better homes.”
Yep, mushiness was happening, my insides going all melty on me. I rested my head back on his shoulder. Over the past few days, we’d spent a lot of time in this bed talking until one of us drifted asleep. My interview for the acquisitions manager had gone well, and the two guys I’d met with were so excited that I’d renovated a house that they wanted to set up a time next week to check it out for themselves. While I felt like I’d nailed the interview, I still didn’t have a good grasp of what exactly the job entailed, so I needed to compile a list of questions and make sure they were all answered.
But there was always later for that.
After a few more pointless and highly unlikely movie explosions, I began tracing the muscles in Jackson’s arms. Shoulder, biceps, the sexy line in his forearm.
When I reached his fingers, he toyed with mine, rubbing his calloused fingertips over them and then bringing my hand up to place a hot kiss against my palm.
Desire and affection melded together and streaked through my body. I skimmed one of the grooves that bracketed his mouth and stood out when he smiled, then continued with my tracing, moving to his torso, across the pecs and then tiptoeing down his abs.
When I reached the waistband of his jeans, I dragged my finger back and forth, listening to his accelerated breaths and watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
I flicked open the button of his pants, and it was like flipping a switch. He rolled over me, his body pressing me into the bed. He gave me the same treatment I’d given him, running his fingers over my collarbone, across the swell of my breasts, down lower, and lower, and lower.
I gasped, arching into his touch. Then we shed the last of our clothes and continued exploring each other’s bodies, making good use of every last hour, minute, and second in the house that I’d always think of as ours, even if it had only been ours temporarily.
Afterward, Jackson held me close and ran his hand up and down my back. I could hear his heart beating in his chest, right under my ear, gradually slowing its rapid rhythm. My pulse slowed as well, my heart beating in time with his as it filled up with him entirely.
A sensation I hadn’t felt in a long time spread through my chest, dizzying and visceral, and so damn intoxicating I wanted to reach for it and hold on to it before it left me behind. As hard as I’d tried, I’d utterly failed to keep Jackson at a distance, and I was dangerously close to breaking my last, most fundamental rule to avoiding a broken heart.
Way #13: Never, ever, fall in love. Like, EVER. It can only end in tears.
I closed my eyes, scared to move, scared to breathe, afraid to break the spell, while afraid not to.
“Ivy,” he whispered. “I want to tell you something…”
Shit, shit, shit. I remained perfectly still, pleading with him not to say it, even as my heart begged for it.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t going to say anything about caring for me, or…more than caring for me. But the anxiety shifting into overdrive and cutting off my oxygen told me I wasn’t ready for it.
He either bought my already-asleep act or decided to let it drop, which made me feel like even more of a jerk when he kissed the top of my head and pulled the blanket around me. Before I knew it, I was drifting off for real, the worry gnawing at the back of my mind promising me that tomorrow, it would be right there waiting for me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The past several days had been a blur of playing catch up. Tony had been complaining about my lack of shifts, so I’d taken on a couple extra. Jackson had started on his new housing project, and it meant our working hours were opposite, which didn’t leave much time together. Or any, really.
On top of that I’d boxed up all but one of Dixie’s scrapbooks and cleaned the Victorian from top to bottom. Then there was my neglected condo. It also needed cleaning, and Black Widow was still trying to dart out the door every time I came home, like she wanted her old place back (a sentiment I shared, as hard as I tried not to). But then she would realize I had her kittens and begrudgingly stick around—so much for the bond I thought we’d forged.
On Thursday morning, I forced myself out of bed, cursing the early hour and the sloppy drunks who wouldn’t just leave Azure last night. I fed Black Widow, cracked open a Cherry Coke, and rushed out of my condo.
The madness I’d felt all week calmed as I pulled up to the Victorian. It’d become my safe place again, just like it had when I was growing up.
Then I saw the For Sale sign, and sorrow pushed in. I’d have to find a new haven. Which was what my condo was supposed to be, and I was trying to force myself to believe it was, even if it had never felt like it. Maybe once I pick a color for the walls and stick with it…
The rumble of a truck engine broke me out of my thoughts, and I looked up, expecting the guys I’d interviewed with, only to find Jackson’s truck and his sexy face in my rearview mirror.
I climbed out of my car and pulled my jacket tighter—an impending rainstorm had the temperature cooler than usual. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
Jackson drew me into his arms, kissed me like he meant to make up for the nights we hadn’t seen each other, and then slowly lowered me back to my feet. “I missed you and wanted to see you.”
My heart expanded. “I…” Come on, Ivy. Force it out—it’s the truth, after all. “I missed you, too.”
“I also wanted to meet these guys you might work with.”
My mushy feelings turned to cement, the rough kind that tore up your knees. “I don’t need you checking up on me. I’ve been taking care of myself for years, and I plan to keep on doing it.”
He let loose a long-suffering sigh.
I scowled at him. “Don’t sigh at me. If you would’ve kept it at missing me, I would’ve stayed happy.”
“Fine. I just missed you. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Awesome. Now you better get to work. I’m sure you’ve got a big day ahead of you.”
He crossed his arms.
I returned the gesture.
“Since you’re hell-bent on being mad anyway,” Jackson said, “I might as well tell you that I started digging into this company that you’re considering working for, and some of what they do seems sketchy, which made me like the thought of you being alone in the house with two men you don’t know even less.”
“Okay, so you call me up and tell me th
at like a normal person so I can decide what to do with the information instead of showing up like some kind of overprotective bodyguard.”
He took a step toward me. “Perhaps I would’ve if you’d picked up the damn phone last night.”
“I was working.” I advanced this time, crowding his space so he didn’t think he could control everything. “I wanted to call you back, but I knew you’d be asleep, and I was trying to be considerate, although I don’t know why I bothered, since you clearly won’t do the same for me.”
“We just have different ideas of how to be considerate. I care about you, so I did a little digging, but I didn’t have time to do as much as I wanted to, and since I knew you were meeting with them now, I figured better safe than sorry.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“I would never use that word to describe you. I can think of a lot of other words I’d like to use, though. Frustrating, exasperating, stubborn, obstinate…I can keep going all day.”
“Looks like those vocab lessons have really paid off. Some of those words mean the same thing, though, you infuriatingly dogmatic…” Since he’d so nicely left out succubus, I didn’t want to resort to slinging old insults from our straight-up-enemy days, so I struggled to find something less harsh than jackass that would also fit. “Caveman.”
“Admit it, Flash, you’re trying to pull away again.”
For once, I was relatively sure I wasn’t. Not purposely, although yes, I’d had a minor freak out during our last night together, but I was mostly over that now. To be fair, I could also see how it might look similar to last time, what with the going from constant contact to a slow trickle of rushed texts. Not that I’d admit that right now, because I had a leg to stand on in this situation, and he didn’t.
We were still locked in our stubborn stand-off when a car pulled up, and two guys in suits piled out.
I forced a smile and greeted Chris and Brad of Peachtree Property Management, begrudgingly introducing them to Jackson but acting my way through it so they wouldn’t realize it was begrudgingly, although I’m sure Jackson did. “Would you like to see the place?”
“Yeah, let’s take a look.”
As we passed by the realtor sign, Jackson frowned. “Why didn’t you go with the real estate agent I recommended?”
Because it wasn’t my choice. Dixie had a relationship with the woman whose picture was smiling at us. But since I was annoyed at Jackson, I said, “Because I’m fully capable of picking someone, and I picked a woman.”
He gritted his teeth in a big-bad-wolf smile. “It’s not that I have anything against a female real estate agent, I just know Joe Hardy and he’s always been fair, and he knows the market better than anyone.”
“I went with someone else. End of story.”
“Fine.”
I unlocked the door and led the guys inside. “I should’ve taken more before pictures, but I can show you the ones I have.” I’d printed them up and put them in a folder. It wasn’t as organized or fancy as what Savannah would’ve done, but it got the job done. I handed over the pictures, and they compared them to the transformed rooms as we walked through them.
Pride beat out my irritation at Jackson for coming over after days of not seeing each other, just to be bossy. Of all the things I’d done in my life, this project was one of the best. I’d used both my mental and physical strengths.
“We do already have a qualified designer and contractor to do the flipping,” Brad said, glancing at Jackson.
“I understand,” I said, fighting off irritation at Brad now, since he’d made it sound like Jackson wasn’t qualified, and they’d never find a better contractor. “I figured showing you this place would help prove that I know how to evaluate a house’s potential and that I understand what kind of work needs to go into a project.”
“It does.” Chris placed his hand on my shoulder, and Jackson tensed up beside me.
“Let’s look at the upstairs,” I quickly said, stepping out of Chris’s reach and starting in that direction.
After finishing the tour, we paused in the living room to talk business. They glanced at Jackson a few times, like they weren’t sure what he was doing there, but I didn’t want to have a fight in front of them, so I just let it be.
My salary would be solely commission based, which was a little intimidating, and they informed me that I’d be traveling around thirty to forty percent of the time. As they detailed the job, I thought it was something I could do, even if it wasn’t exactly what I’d first envisioned. Maybe I just needed to change the image in my mind.
Once I had a steadier income, I could also do side projects, either repurposing furniture or smaller homes. The travel would cut into that some, but there was give and take with everything.
“A lot of these types of houses are worth a lot of money, simply because of where they are,” Brad said. “People get attached, so it’d be up to you to get them to see the big picture.”
“And the big picture is…?” I didn’t want to sound stupid, but I didn’t want to just nod and agree when I still wasn’t one hundred percent clear.
“That we’ll give them a good, fair price, so they can settle into a nicer home on the outskirts of the city.”
This time I did just nod. But I wasn’t sure I agreed. I needed time to process.
“We’ll let you talk about it…” Brad’s gaze lifted to Jackson again, as if I’d need to discuss it with him first.
“I’ll think about it and get back to you,” I said, offended they thought I couldn’t make a decision without a guy. But of course that’s what they thought. If it wasn’t too late to ask Jackson to wait outside, I would’ve. I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t make executive decisions myself, like I’d be calling my boyfriend to ask if I should acquire a property. Why would they even need me, then? They could just hire him.
Not that he’d take the job, but it was the principle of the matter.
I led them to the door by myself—only thinking of it as a hostess, wifey type thing when I reached the door—and, trying to shove that back, wished them a good day and promised to be in touch.
As soon as they reached the end of the sidewalk, I spun to face Jackson. “That made me look super unprofessional. Like I needed you to be here to conduct an interview or explain what we did to the house.”
“I don’t want you to take the job,” Jackson said, aiming a frown toward the door. “I got a bad, slimy salesman vibe from them. There’s something underhanded about the way they do business. I can just tell.”
Clearly, he hadn’t heard a word I said. “You just don’t like big businesses, their salesmen, or basically anyone who’s not you. They’re offering a chance to make a lot of money, and it’d be nice to have more breathing room in my budget.” If I could make enough sales. They gave me percentages, but without knowing how much the houses would sell for, it wasn’t easy to turn that into a solid figure. But I could do some research, get a rough estimate, and go from there.
Jackson squared off in front of me. “Money’s not everything, and while I’m not the biggest fan of big businesses, theirs sounds like they’re scamming people out of their homes. Let me ask around a little more, see what I can find out.”
“I don’t need your help choosing my career. We talked about this.”
“As I recall, we talked about how you’d resist my giving you a job and you agreed, and then I pled a pretty compelling case in favor of help and support. And this is different. This isn’t me getting you a job; it’s me trying to protect you from a sketchy situation.”
“I was picking my jobs before you came into my life just fine, and I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to protect me.”
“Ivy, you’re being ridiculous. At least let me—”
“Ridiculous? For wanting control of my own life?” I jabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re the one being ridiculous, showing up here like I’m some damsel in distress you have to stop before I make a reckless decision that’ll ruin my
life. That’s my mom, not me. I make my own decisions, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I let you out us to your parents and force me into a relationship, but I’ve got to draw lines somewhere.”
Jackson stepped forward, right into my still-pointed finger. “I wouldn’t have to force you into a relationship if you’d just let me in a little. I swear, Ivy, sometimes trying to get through to you is like blasting through a brick wall, only to find three more.”
“Well, that’s how I am, and I’m not changing for some guy.”
“Some guy? I’m just some guy?” Hurt coated his words, and that pain echoed through my chest. Why did caring about someone always mean inevitably hurting them, too?
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“You mean that you don’t give a damn about my opinion and that you’re still too stubborn to take my help, even if it’s the best thing for you. Have you even called Betty-Joe? I told her about you, and I think it would be a great opportunity, and I bet you haven’t even called her.”
“I have it on my to-do list. I’ve been busy.”
“I get that. I’ve been busy, too. But I’ve still managed to squeeze in a few important phone calls.”
My stomach dropped. The honeymoon beginning phase of us was already ending. This was where things turned ugly. When there were fights over stupid things. I wouldn’t bend over backward to try to make it all smooth sailing ever again. I wouldn’t sacrifice everything about myself to try to make things work, and I wouldn’t retreat into myself and just hope it improved, either. I’d come way too far. “Look, I’ve got the early shift at the bar, and I know you took time out of your workday to come check on me, even though I didn’t ask you to and I don’t need you to. Let’s just call this a draw and get on with our day.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” I threw open the front door and stormed out. It would’ve been more effective if I didn’t have to wait for him to come out so I could lock up after him.
