I had just started to lower my eyes when the vision yelled, “No! Don’t!”
I heard her panicked voice at the same moment I read the text: I’m horny.
My gaze once again met hers as words tumbled from her mouth, “I meant to say I’m here. I’m here not…I didn’t mean to text you that…I’m…”
“Horny?” I asked, showing her the message, in disbelief that this work of art could be Mia’s producing partner Josie.
“Yes! I mean no…” She sputtered as a crimson shade spread across her ivory cheeks. “I’m not…that. I’m here. That’s what I meant to text you. I’m so sorry. I hate autocorrect!”
Holy shit. This goddess was Mia’s producing partner. I felt my jaw fall open and damned if there was anything I could do to stop it. This woman was jaw-dropping, that was just a fact.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to come all the way here. And then I…sexually harassed you.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her phrasing. Not that I took sexual harassment lightly. I didn’t. I’d actually threatened to quit a major motion picture where the director was constantly making inappropriate jokes to all the female crew and actors. But that wasn’t what this was.
“It’s fine.”
“I didn’t even look at it before I pressed send,” she continued. “I was having a … I was just…not paying attention and…”
“It’s Josie, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Breathe,” I instructed, not wanting her to hyperventilate.
She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth.
“Hi, I’m Jackson. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Josie. Nice to meet you. Sorry, again.” There was a sadness, a loneliness in her eyes that was calling to me like a beacon on a dark night.
I wanted to reach out, pull her into my arms, and take all of her pain away.
Fuck. Whatever this reaction was, I didn’t like it. Not one bit. I’d always been more comfortable being an impartial observer. It was part of what made me good at my job. I had no opinion, no judgment on anything I was shooting. I didn’t deal well with feelings. Thankfully, I rarely experienced them.
But right now, I was overwhelmed by them.
“Are these yours?” I reached down to grab the bags sitting beside her, suddenly needing to make our interaction as short and businesslike as possible.
“Oh, that’s okay. You’ve done enough. I’ve got it.” She bent and grasped the handles as well.
I held my grip as she attempted to tug them away.
Her eyes met mine and our new position put our faces mere inches away from one another. All of the air was sucked out of my lungs as I stared into her mesmerizing gaze. What I’d originally classified as brown eyes, I now saw were so much more than that.
Golden flakes floated in warm chocolate with light caramel swirls. It reminded me of a cosmic landscape. There was an entire galaxy in those eyes. So much depth, dimension, and endless territories to discover.
I stood frozen.
“I can take them.” This time her protest sounded a lot breathier than it had before, and I didn’t let go.
Our battle of wills was interrupted by a group of girls with high pitched voices.
“It’s Josie!” The brunette in the bunch exclaimed. “You’re Josie from House of Love.”
Josie blinked, as if she were returning back to the moment. I knew exactly how she felt.
I watched as she slowly straightened and turned toward the girls.
“You’re Josie Clarke, aren’t you?” The tallest in the trio asked.
“Um…yes.”
“OH MY GOD! I can’t believe you’re here! We just binged House of Love. You and Gio are so cute!”
Josie was smiling but I could see that there wasn’t a drop of happiness behind it. Instead, she looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
“Can we get a picture?” The blonde with braces pleaded.
“Uh…yeah. Sure.” Josie stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. It was strange for me to see since, most of the time in my profession, people loved the spotlight being on them.
“Can you take it?” The brunette pushed her iPhone at me.
“No!” Josie’s eyes widened in mortification. “We can do a selfie.”
“I can take it.” I took the phone and snapped several pictures. Two of the girls made duck lips and the other was doing her best blue steel. Between them, Josie smiled sweetly.
I handed the phone back to the brunette who immediately scrolled through the pictures to make sure they were Insta-worthy while the blonde fired questions at Josie. “Are you and Gio still together?”
“Um, no.”
“Do you still talk to him?”
“No.”
“Why not? You guys were so cute.” The tallest of the group made a heart with her hands.
I may have just met Josie but I could clearly see how uncomfortable this interaction was making her.
“Ladies, we’re actually running a little late.”
“Ohh!” The blonde waved her hand between us. “Are you two together?”
“I’m her driver.”
“Damn, how do I get you as a driver?” The brunette asked.
“You look just like Zac Efron!” the one with braces commented.
“Bye, ladies.” I picked up the bags and held my arm out, directing Josie toward the parking structure.
Josie waved as we walked away and called out, “Nice meeting you, girls.”
“Was it?” I asked under my breath.
She looked up at me and smiled. Her lips parted, revealing a line of straight white teeth, and the sight constricted my chest. It felt like my heart expanded to double, no triple, its size.
“I’m sorry about that. Thank you for helping me escape.” She placed her hand on my forearm and the contact spread through me like a shot of Jack Daniels. I wasn’t sure if she experienced the same reaction, but she pulled her hand back like she’d touched a hot stove and cleared her throat. “I really appreciate it.”
My mind was working overtime trying to come up with explanations for my insane reaction to Josie. The only thing I could think of was that it had just been too damn long since I’d been with someone. And there was no way in hell that this heavenly creature was going to be the woman to end my dry spell.
She was my sister-in-law’s producing partner. And besides that, I had a gut feeling that this wasn’t the sort of woman that I could have something casual with. But I felt so drawn to her. It had to be pheromones.
She was my praying mantis, which meant I needed to keep my distance. I’d give her a ride back to Wishing Well, drop her off, and try to stay as far away from her as possible.
She was dangerous.
Chapter 4
Josie
“Darling, a real man can sweep you off your feet without even touching you.”
~ Josephine Grace Clarke
My mind spun and my entire body tingled as I sat beside Jackson on the silent drive.
I’d heard all of the old adages about Southern gentlemen, but for some reason, I’d assumed that all that had flown out the window with technology. It seemed to me that the art of chivalry had died with the birth of online dating. But apparently, no—it was alive and well and embodied in the incredible body of Jackson Briggs.
The man had not only saved me from a conversation I was going to need to get comfortable navigating, but he’d also insisted on carrying all three of my bags. And after I tripped over the curb he effortlessly broke my fall, while still carrying said bags.
Then, he made sure that I walked on the inside of the sidewalk so that he was between me and the traffic. Which was great, since I was clearly having trouble doing something as simple as walking.
He’d gently ushered me around a grease stain that I hadn’t seen on the concrete floor of the parking garage, and then opened the passenger side door of his truck with one hand extended.
And the cherry on top of the too-good-to-be-true Jackson Briggs sundae was the aforementioned offered hand was not the sort that I would’ve expected from a cinematographer. It was tanned, scarred, and calloused.
When I placed my hand in his, my fingertips brushed against his roughened skin. The sexy sensation lit my body on fire. My imagination ran wild with fantasies of his rough palms moving up my inner thigh and grazing over my bare breasts.
Besides it being wildly inappropriate to be thinking these things, it was also wildly out of character for me. In all my twenty-eight years, I’d never had X-rated thoughts like that about a stranger.
It was so far out of character for me, in fact, that I had no clue how to process what I was feeling. Since I couldn’t seem to shake off the mental image and feeling of his hands, I concentrated on how he could’ve earned those work-worn hands. I knew that he’d grown up on a farm because Mia had mentioned Travis’s family farm more than once.
Briggs Farm was one of the highest-grossing agricultural properties in all of Texas. They had a variety of crops, ranging from grain and corn to hay. They also raised sheep and had pigs and horses. He could’ve easily gotten his calluses from growing up a cowboy.
Or maybe he’d gotten the scars during his travels abroad. From what I’d been able to tell from my extensive Google dive, he regularly worked in remote locations in less than desirable conditions. In the past five years, he’d been on projects in six different countries.
I’d tried to convince myself that my “research” of Jackson was purely necessity, since I was a producer on the show. But that was B.S. Besides being Mia’s brother-in-law, he was a well-respected cinematographer in the industry. I’d spent hours scouring the internet because from the moment I’d seen his picture, I’d been intrigued and wanted to know more.
I wasn’t sure what I expected the perfected specimen of a man seated beside me to drive, but this wasn’t it. Not that I’d gotten a strong read on Jackson. Maybe it was because I’d been so mortified during the first few minutes I’d known him. Or it could be that my hormonal response had clouded my judgment.
I took in my surroundings. The inside of the pickup truck was an advertisement for the Dallas Cowboys. Jackson just didn’t scream sports fan to me.
Still, he had grown up in Texas, so I supposed football was in his blood. Normally, I hated small talk. As an introvert, I was more than happy to sit in comfortable—or even uncomfortable—silence. But Jackson stirred something in me, making me speak when normally I’d be silent.
“Big Cowboys fan?”
“No,” he replied flatly.
For a moment I thought he was being sarcastic, but when he gave no other indication that was the case, I asked, “Really?”
He glanced over at me and I looked down at the Cowboy floor mats and the Cowboy helmet hanging off the rearview mirror.
“This is my dad’s truck.”
“Oh.”
A small thrill raced through me. It seemed my detection skills were still on point. Maybe my attraction hadn’t dulled my senses after all. Silence fell once again, and again, I found myself eager to fill it.
“So, Mia mentioned that you have a lot of siblings.”
His only response was a dip of his chin. I might’ve been mistaken, but I thought she’d said that Jackson was the “wild” one. It made me wonder just how wild he could be, but I immediately tried to wipe that question out of my mind.
I bit the side of my mouth, a nervous habit I’d picked up during the scandal. “I’m sorry that you had to come all the way out here. I could’ve taken a car. I tried to tell Mia, but she insisted. And thank you, again, for saving me back there. From the girls.”
“No problem,” he said, keeping his stare straight ahead.
It was strange to me that he hadn’t asked why the girls wanted a picture with me or…oh shit. A lightbulb went off. He must know. That was why he wasn’t asking me why those girls had wanted to take a picture with me. Or who Gio was.
And why he couldn’t even look at me, which meant he’d seen the tape.
I felt moisture begin to fill my lower lids. I’d honestly thought that I’d come to peace with my past. But, apparently, that was when my past was in the past. Now that it was occupying my present, I wasn’t as cool with it.
Logically, I knew there was nothing that I could do about it. Over the years, my therapists—yes, plural—had given me mantras to repeat.
Judgmental people will judge you no matter what you do, and non-judgmental people won’t judge you no matter what you do.
Other people’s opinions of me are none of my business.
I can only control my thoughts, not anyone else’s.
Sadly, those platitudes just weren’t cutting it.
“Are you an actress?”
“What?” I turned back to Jackson, who was still focused on the road in front of him.
“Those girls, they wanted to take a picture with you.”
Hope sprang up in my chest. Maybe he didn’t know. My excitement was short-lived, however, because the truth was if he didn’t know now, all he had to do to find out was type my name into a search bar. One quick Google search and all would be revealed. Literally.
I shook my head, doing my best to push all the feelings of insecurity down. “I was on a reality show. A long time ago. When I was eighteen. Netflix just picked it up, so it’s found a new audience.”
“Oh, that’s…cool.”
“Not really,” I muttered under my breath.
“It’s not?”
Shit. I hadn’t meant for him to hear that.
“It was a long time ago. I’d rather just leave my past in the past.” It was the same answer I gave everyone who asked me about House of Love.
This time when Jackson fell silent again, I had no desire to fill the dead air. I didn’t want the conversation to lead back to my time on House of Love, or the fallout after. I might be living on borrowed time when it came to him not knowing about my past, but I wasn’t going to borrow trouble before trouble came calling.
Once people found out, they always looked at me differently. Some had pity in their eyes, others judgment. I knew it was inevitable that, at some point, Jackson would also look at me through different eyes. But I was going to enjoy the time I had before that happened.
Chapter 5
Jackson
“The road of a well-lived life is paved with bad decisions.”
~ Josephine Grace Clarke
Inhaling deeply, I stretched my fingers out before grasping the Dallas blue leather-covered wheel once again. The drive from DFW back to my hometown had taken close to three hours thanks to rush hour traffic getting out of the city on a Friday.
Right after I’d asked her about the TV show, she’d pulled out her computer and said that she was going to catch up on work, if I didn’t mind. Which of course, I hadn’t.
We hadn’t said another word to each other. Not even small talk. Which logically, I knew was for the best. But with every mile we drove bringing us closer to Wishing Well, I felt a sense of dread, afraid that I’d wasted precious time.
On the way to the truck, she’d tripped, and I’d caught her. The moment her body pressed against mine, I’d forgotten all about trying to keep my distance, or her being dangerous. I’d lost myself in the feeling of her soft curves against me, and the sweet smell of her fresh, floral hair as it brushed against my nose. I was drawn to her like I’d never been drawn to anyone, and I’d spent the past three hours in a battle of wills to remain silent, not try and get to know her better.
Besides keeping my distance, keeping my eyes on the road had proven to be more difficult than it should’ve been. My stare kept being pulled to the redheaded beauty beside me.
Every single time I glanced in her direction I noticed something new about her. The sprinkle of freckles across her nose. The tiny wisps of hair that lay on her forehead framing her heart-shaped face. The natural pout of her lower lip. God, my mouth watered, w
anting to pull it in between my teeth and nip at it.
A ding sounded and I turned my attention back to the road, suddenly feeling like I’d been caught doing something forbidden.
Out of my peripheral vision I saw her pull her phone out of her bag. When she saw what was on it she cursed beneath her breath again. “Shit.”
“Did you text someone you’re horny again?” I teased.
She glanced up at me as if she’d forgotten that I was even in the truck. The reaction hit me like a punch in the gut. Apparently, she wasn’t suffering from the same affliction of all-consuming attraction that I was experiencing. Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, not repeating my stupid joke.
“Um…” She sighed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The Airbnb I booked just fell through. Apparently, a pipe burst. The owner said that it won’t be habitable for at least three days. The Come On Inn was already booked up because of some flower convention.”
“The mum convention.” Homecoming mums were huge in Texas and every year Wishing Well hosted a three-day mum convention.
“Right,” she said as she typed on her phone, not sparing me a glance.
The Come On Inn was the only motel in town. And since there wasn’t a ton of tourism in Wishing Well, even Airbnbs were difficult to come by. “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think you’re gonna find anything else in Wishing Well.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to drop you off at Travis and Mia’s?”
“No. She needs to rest. I’m looking at Parrish Creek.”
Parrish Creek was the next town over from Wishing Well and had amenities like a hospital, hotels, and fast-food restaurants that Wishing Well did not boast. For some reason driving her to Parrish Creek and dropping her off at the Holiday Inn just didn’t sit well with me. “You can stay with me.”
Her head spun toward me. When it did, her long hair fanned out and I caught the same sweet scent of fresh flowers that I had at the airport.
Wide eyes stared at me as she shook her head no as she asked, “What?”
“I’m staying at my parents’ farm. There’s plenty of room.”
Loving Jackson (Wishing Well, Texas Book 10) Page 3
