Anna Grace still had that wary, shell-shocked look about her. He squeezed her hand. “She tried that old nobody’s-good-enough-for-my-baby thing, but don’t you worry none. Anna Grace here blessed her heart and set her straight.”
Anna’s cheeks went all sweet and embarrassed. Mamie wrapped her in a hug. “Don’t you be worrying none about Deb.” The top of Mamie’s tightly rolled hair barely hit Anna’s shoulder, but she patted Anna’s back and said all the right Mamie things, and he felt the tension leaving Anna as much as if it’d been his own.
Miss Ophelia dove back into the pit with a root beer. “Hope y’all don’t mind sharing,” she said with a wink. “They’re plum short on cups tonight. Y’all done introductions yet? I wanna meet this girl who got our Jackson’s attention without a single biscuit to her name. Lots of disappointed mommas in these here parts over you,” she said to Anna, who was looking on the mend.
And he still had a minute and a half left.
“Did you really bless Deb’s heart?” Miss Dolly asked.
Anna looked to Jackson. He grinned at her, and one of her own popped back up. “Right there at the dinner table,” Anna said.
“Oh, listen to her,” Miss Flo said. “I love a good Northern accent. Isn’t that precious?”
“Ask her to say ‘about,’” Jackson said.
Miss Dolly clapped her hands. “She’s Canadian!”
“Minnesotan,” Anna said.
“Sugarplum, anything north of Kentucky’s all Canada to us,” Mamie said. “You bowl? We got us two lanes tonight.”
He saw the moment realization hit Anna Grace. She blinked at Mamie. A smile hovered on her lips, then her eyes went wide, darting between Jackson and Mamie, her lips mouthing something that might could’ve been She’s Mae Daniels.
Anna squinted at Mamie one last time. Her cheeks flamed up and she turned an accusing glare on Jackson. “Are you kidding me?”
“Oh, Lordy,” Miss Ophelia said. “Rabid fan alert, lane six.”
“But I like her,” Miss Dolly said.
“Would all y’all hush up,” Miss Flo said. “She didn’t know.”
Jackson tucked his hands in his pockets and stepped back before Anna Grace decided to deck him with something stronger than a heart blessin’. “That’s about five minutes,” he said.
A squawk flew out of her pretty mouth. “We can’t leave now.”
When he grinned, she scowled. “You’re on my list, Jackson Davis. On. My. List.”
Couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
“Aw, sweetie pie, don’t be holding it against him if he don’t like to talk about family,” Mamie said. “You seen the rest of it yourself tonight.”
And his Anna Grace, who could face down a hundred Confederate generals and leave them all standing in their underpants, got all flustered in front of Mamie. “I’ve been borrowing all your books from him,” she said. “I can’t read them fast enough. I’ve lost study time for you.”
Mamie winked. “I know, sweetie pie. Jackson told me. Told me more about you than he probably thinks he has, matter of fact. Now, we gonna bowl or not? Jackson hasn’t mentioned if you’re any good on the lanes.”
“Afraid to find out after she wiped me out in redneck golf,” he said.
When her eyes narrowed in that determined sort of way, he got a little kick in the gut.
So that was why Lance was always throwing games for Kaci.
“How about we find out the old-fashioned way?” Anna Grace said.
“You got a right good way with plans, Anna Grace.”
They rented shoes and settled in for an evening with Mamie and the Misses, who treated Anna to the finest hospitality this side of the Alabama-Georgia border. Whether Anna Grace rightfully kicked his rump on the bowling lane, well, that was between him and God.
And Mamie, he’d reckon.
Mamie cornered him during one of Anna’s last throws. He was lounging in the pit, watching Anna Grace’s hips swing as she approached the lane, her arm hanging lower than it had when they started. She was getting tired.
Mamie gave an evil chuckle. “You got it bad, sugarplum.”
“Yes, ma’am.” No sense in denying it. He’d fallen off the turnip truck and right into a pasture of love-patties.
Eight pins toppled at the end of Anna’s lane. She stomped her foot. When she spun back to wait for her ball, her face screwed up with gritty determination. Adorable woman.
“Your daddy would’ve liked her.”
“Been thinking that a lot lately.”
Miss Ophelia stepped up next to Anna. The two of them talked angles of attack for the split she had to tackle. If ever there was a woman who could knock those pins down with sheer willpower, it was his Anna Grace.
“I’m no expert on love outside the pages of a book,” Mamie said, “but seems to me the best husbands and fathers are the ones who can look at all the downsides and hardships of love, but decide to love somebody anyway.”
“Military life’s rough on families.”
Mamie tsked at him. “You’re halfway through your career. Day’s coming when the military can’t be your family anymore.”
Anna picked up the bowling ball and stared at the pins. Looking at how to put them in their places.
He wondered where she thought she’d fit once she was done with school.
“Never understood why Daddy wasn’t enough for Momma,” he said. “Best man I ever knew, and he couldn’t keep her happy.”
“She wasn’t the one he was supposed to make happy.” Mamie’s voice was soft, but it echoed in his head louder than all the bowling pins in the building. “You think your daddy’d be happy knowing you found somebody you want to make smile every day the rest of your life, but you were too chicken to go for it? Sugarplum, they got married for you. Now I ain’t ever pushed it, because I thought you’d be doing better finding a nice girl from back home, but a girl who makes you look like that don’t come round all that often.”
Anna Grace balanced the ball in her hands, her head cocked so her hair brushed her shoulders. She did that hip-swinging thing and drew up to the lane. Her arm dropped, the ball swung back, then she yanked it forward and let it go so smooth it barely made a sound on the slick surface of the lane.
“What if I’m not enough for her?” he said.
Mamie patted his knee. “That’s not a question the likes of me can answer for you, sugarplum.”
Anna’s ball connected with the outside edge of the first pin. It shot sideways into the second pin, knocking it down and picking up a spare.
He jumped into the air, fists pumping and hollering. Anna spun around, laughing, arms high. “Yes!”
Jackson met her halfway. He wrapped her in a hug and spun her around. “Beautiful, Anna Grace.”
“I know.” Her big, infectious grin glowed brighter than the score board. “And I can bowl too.”
Sure could.
She’d bowled him right over.
JACKSON WAS QUIET on the drive to the hotel. Anna’s exuberance over the night slowly faded.
This meeting-the-family thing had a flavor of commitment to it.
And it tasted more like strawberry shortcake than stewed okra.
Not good.
They checked into the hotel. Jackson insisted, of course, on carrying her bags. But he didn’t claim his momma’d have his hide if he didn’t. The clerk greeted him by name, though the happy twang in her voice dropped when she spotted Anna. Still, she gave him a wink and an upgrade.
Apparently he’d been serious about not staying at the mausoleum.
Up in the room, Jackson gave her a let’s have a talk look. A heart-in-his-eyes, contemplating-the-L-word kind of look.
Also not good.
Anna stumbled back a step. “Does an upgrade mean a whirlpool tub? Because I think that’s the only thing I miss about my old life.”
He humored her with a half-grin. “Yep.”
She stopped short of declaring the tub a good re
ason to love him, and instead swallowed so quick she choked on her own spit. “Great.” She had to get close to him to claim her bag, so she gave him a peck on the cheek and a forced smile. “You’re a peach.”
He ruffled her hair, then flopped back on the bed with the remote and flipped on a commentary on the history of the Alabama-Auburn rivalry. “My life mission is complete.”
Except a week ago he would’ve asked if he could join her in the tub, and tonight he let her go alone.
Maybe he didn’t like baths. Too cramped or slippery or hot or something.
But given what he could do in that little space of his shower—nope, definitely something else.
She almost turned around, asked if he was okay.
But there was that commitment taste again.
So she went in the bathroom and turned on the faucet, but she left the door cracked.
Just in case.
Her heart would hate her when this went sour before his expiration date. But she couldn’t move for a man again.
Start school over. Find a new job. Leave her friends. She knew how many hours he put in at work. The higher he went up in rank, the less time he’d be home.
The thought of living that life with Jackson, of hating that life with Jackson, made her lungs choke as if the steamy water from the tap were filling them instead of the tub. Her pulse echoed a long-forgotten plea.
Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me.
And who was to say that pensive expression he’d been wearing half the night had anything to do with her?
Who was to say he’d changed his mind about commitment?
Who was to say she was worthy of his love?
Or if she was, for how long? They had lust, but did they have anything else?
Would she ever have anything else?
She filled the tub and killed the overhead lights. The glow off the hair dryer light illuminated the room softly. But despite the hot water shooting out the jets, she shivered.
“Anna Grace?” Jackson knocked at the door. “Okay in there?”
Definitely not. Not if the mere sound of his voice stilled her internal earthquake. “Mm-hmm. Pruney goodness.”
“Need help getting your back?”
She needed help with a lot more than her back.
Concern knitted his brows together. Stubble darkened his cheeks. She felt a pull of interest low in her belly.
She was already in toes over tomatoes. Wasn’t as though letting him closer would change anything.
And he was exceptionally talented at helping with her body parts. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your pre-game coverage.”
He slipped into the room and took a seat on the floor beside the tub. His gaze darted at the foamy water. “Thinking about other coverage right now.”
The dark heat in his eyes made her want things she had no business wanting, and no chance of ever having.
She dropped her head against the cool surface of the tub and ignored that voice in her head warning her to keep her mouth shut. “What are we doing?” she whispered.
His hand brushed her hair. “Whatever comes natural.”
She peeked at him from beneath lowered lashes. His eyes were big and dark in the low light, watching her watch him. “You think it’s that simple?”
His fingers inched lower, brushed her ear, then her neck, and her shivers morphed from fear to anticipation.
“Ain’t much simple in life.” Even in a low volume, his voice rumbled off the walls.
“But you think we are?”
His lips twitched, but it seemed more habitual than intentional. His eyes were too serious to pull off the smile. “Started that way.”
“This isn’t going to end well.”
“You ending it tonight?”
The correct answer was yes. Get out before she got in any deeper. Before she spent more time with his family, before she missed the sound of Radish snoring on the floor beside her, before those secret looks and private touches went from I’m-into-you to the full-blown I-love-you.
Because no doubt that’s where things were headed. No matter how much she liked him, no matter how easy they usually were, he wasn’t in the long-term plan.
His fingers had stopped moving. Like her, he seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for her answer. The jets in the tub bubbled away, the warm water buffering her body from the realities of the world outside. “No,” she finally said.
“Right glad to hear that.” He cupped her nape and brushed a kiss over her jaw. He drew back, inhaled deep and parted his lips to speak, but Anna pulled him in for another kiss before he could spoil the moment.
Whether they had one or a hundred moments left, she intended to savor every last one.
His hand slid beneath the water to caress her breast. Her breathing hitched, her heart thumped, her blood crashed. Her better judgment slipped away, replaced with her body’s instinctive craving.
She traced his ears, enjoying the little shudder that wound its way through his body. That was easy.
She licked his lower lip, thrilling at the soft texture above the sandpaper feel of his chin. That was easy.
She let him tip her lower in the tub, glide his hand down her belly, between her thighs. His fingers expertly coaxed her into a haze of frenzied arousal while he continued to kiss her jaw, whisper sweet nothings, nip at her shoulders, her lips, making her forget the world outside their bodies existed.
So, so easy.
She whimpered, thrust her hips against his hand until she exploded in a mass of satisfied, overheated cells. And when she could breathe steady again, she hooked a hand around his neck and held on tight as her wobbly arms would let her. “Is there anything you don’t do well?”
“Probably, but I don’t much care to find out what it is.”
She tugged at his shirt. “Water’s nice and warm if you want to come in.”
He tossed his clothes on top of her neatly folded ones before she had time to process the fact that he’d slipped out of her arms. When he slid into the tub, condom in hand, the water nearly sloshed over the side. When Anna crawled over to straddle him, it actually did.
“Making a mess there, Anna Grace.”
“I’ll let you clean it up later.”
He chuckled. “That there’s progress.”
“Wanna see a little more?”
He cupped her rear end and pulled her closer. “Always.”
Twenty minutes later, the water was cooling, and Anna was catching her breath and leaning on Jackson’s wet chest. It rose beneath her. She smiled, anticipating another comment on her progress.
Instead, his voice came out quiet and a little rough. “Momma married Russ two months after my daddy died.”
Anna went completely still. “Oh,” she whispered.
“They were best friends, my daddy and Russ. Collected all that Confederate stuff together. Went hunting every fall. I went with ’em once I was old enough. Craig too. After Russ got divorced, Momma invited him over every holiday.”
The jets had long since quit running. The small room was silent save for Jackson’s voice. “My daddy was my hero. Taught me everything I know about being a man. If he couldn’t keep his marriage together, if my daddy couldn’t do it—nobody could. Worked his tail off doing everything he could to make her happy, and it still wasn’t enough.”
Anna twisted her head and pressed a kiss over his tattoo. His wet fingers tangled in her half-damp hair. “Taught me to treat her the same,” he said quietly, “but after she married Russ, she wasn’t the same. Not to me. Not when I realized what she’d done.”
“How old were you?” she asked.
“Summer before my senior year,” he said. “I was gonna go to Auburn. Follow in the old man’s shoes, play ball, make him proud. Couldn’t much afford it, but I knew I had the brains to get a good job and work it off after.”
A shiver wracked his body. Goosebumps pebbled his skin. If she could’ve squeezed him tighter, she would’ve.
“When Momma married Russ, he moved us into the mausoleum, took all of Daddy’s stuff like it was his own, like that’s what Daddy would’ve wanted. Offered to pay my tuition. Give me a job at the family business. Take care of things. Like I was following his footsteps instead of my daddy’s. I told him to go to hell and applied to Bama.”
“Pretty extreme,” Anna murmured.
“Best thing I could’ve done. Got my head screwed back on straight, found something bigger than me worth working for. Might not be able to fly the jets, but I can’t imagine working for anyone else. The Force, it’s family.”
A familiar ache pricked at her chest. She knew better than to fall for a uniform.
She did.
But another part of her ached too.
The part that couldn’t help but sympathize with Deb. Had she been right to marry her husband’s best friend two months after his death? That wasn’t Anna’s business.
But choosing happiness, taking a chance at love again, that was something Anna envied.
She envied that Kaci had found it, she envied that Jules was looking for it with Brad, and she envied that Deb had been brave enough to risk her relationship with her son to go after what she wanted.
“Does she still love him?” she whispered.
Jackson’s hand stilled on her head. His chest rose beneath her once, twice, then once more, his heart beating out a strong, steady rhythm. “Never paid it much attention.”
“It’s not always people’s fault if they get it wrong the first time.” Her voice was so soft in her own ears she wasn’t sure she’d said it out loud.
But when his grip tightened around her, she knew he’d heard. “My daddy was ten times the man your ex is.”
She squeezed him back. “I know. I can tell.”
His fingers went back to toying with her hair, his breath cool against her damp skin. “Not sure I’ve done my duty in showing Louisa.”
Anna’s eyes burned. A full-body shiver racked her to the core. She could feel that L-word creeping through her subconscious, looking for a crack to sneak through, to burst out to the forefront of her mind, out her mouth, out every pore in her skin.
Southern Fried Blues (The Officers' Ex-Wives Club) Page 27
