by Tawny Amaya
“How nice.”
“I swear, I will be eighty before I get my first one.”
“You are getting married,” I chuckled, catching her not too subtle hint. “You should be focusing on being a wife, not a grandma.”
She laughed, her eyes ever focused on the crowd that had gathered for the garden party. “I’ve been a wife all my life. I’ve never been a grandma.”
I grinned and looked at the crowd that had gathered to celebrate the engagement, though the wedding was in two days. Most of them were my parents’ friends from not only the neighboring estates but also from their respective cities that they had both been living in since the divorce. Despite the divorce and the separate paths they had gone on for the last twelve years, everyone seemed to be getting along.
Well, the wine was the primary driver of the laughter and conversation, flowing freely from the bar in the corner. Thinking about the wine made me think about Bree and last night when I had taken her to the bluff. At first, I had done it because I was fucking bored and wanted some company.
But after a few minutes, it was hard to deny the fact that I wanted to spend time with her. If had been truly just bored, there was a mountain of work that was piling on daily, overflowing out of my email like a cascading waterfall. No, it was more than that, and I couldn’t deny it any longer.
Thinking about that pizza, I couldn’t help but grin. It was horrible, and I had been surprised at a memory that had pulled out of my head the moment I had seen her with that pizza box. It was like we had been transported to that first time she had introduced me to that crazy combination like time had stood still in my mind.
Hell, now she was all I could think about.
That and the way her body had felt underneath me when I had playfully pinned her to the ground. I didn’t know what I was thinking by doing that, really, and the moment I had touched her, I had instantly regretted it. The intensity of heat and need that coursed through my veins had surprised me, but more so intrigued me as well. It seems that Bree hadn’t just piqued my interest but other parts of me as well. I should be focusing on that this was Bree, not some random chick I was thinking about messing around with, but all thoughts had gone out the window when I had touched her.
And I could see it on her face as well.
“Are you even listening to me, Jackson?”
I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to my mom, who was looking at me with curiosity written all over her face. “What?”
“Well at least you didn’t pretend to hear me like your father,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I asked you if I should have invited the Wilkinsons.”
I thought about Bree here, keeping me entertained in more ways than one and nodded. “I think it would be a nice gesture on your part.”
She released my arm and shooed me away, a smile on her face. She was up to something. What I didn’t know. “Well then, go get her. And her dear father as well. They both are like family you know. I don’t know what we would do without them.”
My mom didn’t have to tell me twice. I walked away from the party and down the stone path that led to the vineyard, where the cottage was located at, on the fringes of the vineyard. The sounds of the party could barely be heard here, and I loosened my tie, glad to be out of there for now. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to celebrate my parents’ reunion, but to be stuck with their friends, well, I would rather be elbow deep in work.
Speaking of elbow deep.
Bree was directly in front of me, a perfect view of her ass as she was kneeling in the flower bed beside the cottage, her hands in the dirt. I should be ashamed of thinking about her the way I was right now, but we were both adults, right? Though I couldn’t prove it yet, I would imagine that she was attracted to me as well. Where this would go, I didn’t know, but I was going to be hell bent on finding out in these next three days. “Hey.”
I startled her, and she fell on her ass with a shriek, dirt flying in the air. She pushed her hair out of her face and looked at me, surprise on her face. “W-what are you doing here?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and grinned at her. “Scaring you apparently.”
“You got that right,” she laughed, pushing herself off the ground as she dusted off her hands. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” I said, enjoying the view. She was dressed in a pair of shorts that showed off a great bit of her long legs, her damp tank top clinging to a nice set of breasts. Even though there was dirt smeared all over her, the sight was tantalizing. Dirt was a part of Bree. “Mom wants you and your father to come to the party.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked down, a chuckle escaping her as she viewed her current attire. “Yeah, um, I am definitely not dressed for company right now.”
“You could get dressed,” I offered, picturing Bree in a tight short dress and heels. Damn.
“Yeah right,” she laughed, looking down at the flower bed she had been digging around in. “I think I will stick to the weeds here but thank your parents. That’s very nice of them to want to include us.”
I didn’t like the way her voice hitched on the last bit of her sentence. She still saw herself and her father inferior to our family. I had never thought of Bree that way, and neither had my parents. Hell, they had given them reign over their pride and joy: the vineyard.
And I didn’t want to leave her either. “I’ll tell them later.”
“Later?”
I nodded, stripping off my coat and placing it on the nearby swing. “What are we doing here?”
Her expression was priceless. “I-I’m pulling weeds.”
“Alright then,” I said, enjoying myself for the first time tonight as I rolled up my sleeves. It wasn’t just about skipping out on the party. It was another strange opportunity to spend time with Bree. “Weeds it is.”
“You’re crazy,” she said as I knelt in the damp grass, feeling it seep through my expensive pants. “Why are you doing this?”
I looked up at her, a grin on my face. “Would you believe me if I told you it’s more exciting than a garden party?”
“I would find that hard to believe,” she said cheekily, falling next to me in the grass, her hands attacking the weeds. “But I hope you have a great washing machine to get those grass stains out of your pants.”
“I’ll be fine,” I answered, knowing I would just chuck them in the trash later on. I could afford a hundred pair of pants easily, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Grabbing a weed, I pulled it out of the dirt, adding it to the pile that Bree had already started. “Let me guess, there’s something therapeutic about this.”
She laughed. “You’re right of course. I do find it very therapeutic. There’s nothing like destroying a good weed.”
“Vicious,” I answered, grinning. It was her personality, I decided, that made me want to hang out with her. Bree hadn’t changed over the years since I had left, though I had. Was it necessarily a bad thing though? We had both become adults, and Bree had grown like a fine wine, becoming better with age.
And I wasn’t just talking about her looks. She still had that sassiness about her, one of the many things that had kept our friendship going over the years. By all accounts, we should have been friends, me a cocky rich kid who had hardly any boundaries and she a product of a blue-collar worker who did everything right.
No, we shouldn’t have been friends at all, and yet here I was, pulling weeds with her. My parents would likely have a fit, laughing fit that is, if they knew what I was doing at the moment.
But right now, I could care less.
******
CHAPTER 8: Bree
I stole a glance at Jackson, unable to believe that he was beside me, weeding the flower bed in what looked like a very expensive suit. When he first had surprised me, I hadn’t been able to ignore the fact that he was smoking hot in his suit and how different we were.
But seeing him next to me, digging around in the dirt, I was finding it hard to find the difference. And
he actually looked like he was enjoying himself.
Yanking on the last weed, I pulled it up successfully and added it to the pile, wiping my hands on my shorts. “Well, it looks like that’s all of them.”
“Good,” he answered, pushing himself up to a standing position.
I did as well and held my grin as I took in his attire. “Um, you won’t be going back to the party looking like that.” He was filthy, with dirt streaked on his forehead and his white dress shirt showing smudges of dirt all over. And his pants. I wasn’t going to even talk about his pants.
He chuckled as he looked at his clothing, his hands dark with soil. “Can I come in and clean up at least?”
“Of course,” I answered. “It’s the least I can do.”
Turning away, I led him to the back door, sliding off my shoes at the doorstep as I pushed it open. The cool interior greeted me, the smell of lemon polish in the air as we stepped into the kitchen. “Wow,” Jackson said as he followed me. “Things sure haven’t changed.”
I suppressed a smile. “Yeah, well, we don’t spend much time indoors.” I could only imagine what he was seeing, the faded yellow wallpaper that apparently my mom had put up when they moved in, the kitchen table that was worn in places, the floor scraped from the chairs sliding against it for years. It felt like home, and I couldn’t think of changing a thing. “Here, you can clean up here.”
Jackson walked over to the sink and started to wash his hands. I watched him, the way his muscles bunched and moved under his shirt and sighed inwardly. These feelings I was feeling toward Jackson had to be because I hadn’t seen him in so long. I couldn’t be attracted to him. He was going to leave in three days, and I doubted I would see him for a long while. Ugh, why him?
When he reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head, my knees weakened. Oh, my, Jackson Temple had grown up and grown up well. His skin was tanned, his shoulders broad and as my eyes moved down his back, I flushed as I realized I was staring at his ass. Good lord, it was hot in this room all of a sudden.
He turned, and I didn’t hide the fact that I was ogling his body, taking in his well-defined chest and abs. My hands were itching to roam over his body, feel out every plane under my fingers. I wanted, I wanted to touch him. Looking up, I caught his gaze and realized his eyes were so dark with intensity and heat that it nearly took my breath away. “Bree,” he said in a low voice.
“J-Jackson,” I said, taking an unconscious step forward. Was I willing to throw caution to the wind and have sex with Jackson? There was no doubt in my mind that was where this was going. Perhaps we had danced around this thing, this heat between us for too long. Heck, I don’t even think it started when he came back. I think it started long ago. He took a step forward as well, and I waited for him to reach out and touch me so I could explode into flames, the intensity between us nearly unbearable. It was going to be fast and furious, and I didn’t care.
The back door opened and I jumped back suddenly, nearly falling over the chair in the process as my dad walked into the room, his eyes shifting from the shirtless Jackson to the red faced me. “Did I interrupt something?”
“What? Of course not,” I rambled, gripping the back of the chair to keep from screaming in frustration. “You’re home.”
“Mr. Wilkinson,” Jackson said smoothly, holding his shirt in one hand as he shook hands with my dad with the other. “Good to see you.”
“You too Jackson,” my dad replied. “Good to hear about your parents as well. I’m glad they have worked out their differences.”
“Me too,” Jackson said, releasing my dad’s hand. “I came to invite you both to the party, but I ended up pulling weeds.”
My father looked over at me, surprise on his face. “You made him pull weeds?”
“O-of course not,” I stammered, shooting Jackson a look. He was doing nothing but grinning behind my dad’s back, and I wanted to shoot him the bird. “He offered. In fact, I couldn’t stop him from doing so.”
My dad chuckled as he looked at us both. “I don’t know what you have going on here, but I want no part of it.”
“I have to go anyway,” Jackson said, sliding his shirt back on, winking at me as he did. I stuck out my tongue, and he escaped out the back door, the heat with him. “Well,” my dad said once Jackson was gone. “That wasn’t what you see every day.”
“He was cleaning up,” I forced out, embarrassed that my dad had walked in on Jackson shirtless. What was going through his mind? “I swear he wanted to help.”
My father held up his hand, stopping my rambling. “I believe you. I’ve always thought that boy wasn’t like everyone else anyway.” He then looked at me, concern in his expression. “Just be careful Bree. Remember he’s not gonna be here for long.”
I stood there, stunned, as he walked out of the kitchen. What had he seen between us that I couldn’t? I knew Jackson was only here for a short time and I was smarter than to have feelings for him now. Hadn’t I learned my lesson a long time ago?
I hung my head as I walked to my bedroom, my stomach rolling at the thought. No, I hadn’t learned my lesson, and I was falling headfirst into that same trap all over again. What was I going to do?
******
CHAPTER 9: Jackson
I sipped my coffee as I checked my emails, the only sounds in the small room the clinking of forks against the breakfast plates. Everyone in my family had always been an early riser, breakfast a time for us to catch up with each other before the start of a busy day. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed this with my parents until this morning, when I had walked into the breakfast room and saw them sitting there, together.
It was like they hadn’t spent the last twelve years apart, reading the newspaper together and making comments here and there as they did so. I had actually been surprised when they had announced their divorce, never seeing them argue or even raise their voices to each other. Being sixteen at the time, I hadn’t asked any questions either.
“I’m meeting with the wedding planner today,” my mom was saying as she sipped her own coffee. “She loves the venue as well.”
“Good,” I said, laying down my tablet. Bree would be happy to hear that. “What do you need me to do today?”
“Work,” my father grumbled good naturedly, laying down his paper.
“Oh Jack,” my mom admonished, patting him on the arm. “Is that all you think about?”
My father looked over at her, and I saw his expression soften. “Of course not. I think about you a great deal.”
She blushed, and I pushed my chair back, gathering my tablet and coffee. “I’m out of here if you are going to start that lovey shit.”
“Don’t curse in front of your mother,” my father said, a twinkle in his eye as I walked out of the room, heading back up to the bedroom that I was staying in. Actually, it had been my old room, though the room had been updated since then. Throwing the tablet onto the bed, I finished my coffee as I walked over to the window, looking out over the vineyard down below. What was Bree doing? Damn, she was becoming an obsession. Last night I thought we were going to finally fizzle this heat between us, fuck like wild rabbits and get it out of our systems. If her father hadn’t walked in, there was a good chance we would have.
Running a hand through my hair, I knew I needed to work, spend a few hours clearing out my emails so going back to work wouldn’t be so painful on Monday morning.
But I couldn’t concentrate. No, there was a woman on my mind, and I wasn’t able to shake her.
“Jackson?”
I turned to see my mom in the doorway, an envelope in her hands. “What do you need?”
“I need for you to deliver this to the Temples,” she answered, holding out the envelope. “It’s their invitations to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. I figured a formal invitation would make them come.”
I took the envelope and grinned. “I’ll make sure to take it today.”
She nodded and turned to go, looking
back at the last minute. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“About what?”
“About you and Bree Temple.”
I choked on my own laughter. “Why do you say that?”
There was a twinkle in her eye as she shrugged her shoulders. “You seem to be spending a great deal of time with her, that’s all. I think it’s lovely. She’s a lovely girl, and you could do a hell of a lot worse, really.”
“This has nothing to do with your grandma crack the other day, does it?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but don’t throw it completely out of your mind. I would like to hold my grandchildren, not drool over them.”
I rolled my eyes, and she laughed, walking out of the room. No matter how old I would grow to be, she would always try to butt in my life.
Slapping the envelope against the palm of my hand, I walked out of the room and down the stairs, my destination clear. Either my mom was playing matchmaker, or this was pure innocence, but I liked to think she was playing her hand in me seeing Bree as well.
I didn’t have to look long.
As soon as I stepped out of the house, I saw her coming up the gravel drive in the golf cart, her hair blowing in the wind. I waved her down, jogging over to the cart. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I’m surprised to see you up at this hour.”
I chuckled and held out the envelope. “I’m an early bird. Here.”
She took the envelope, eyeing it. “Do I dare open it up?”
“It’s an invite,” I explained, taking in her beauty. “To the wedding and the rehearsal dinner. Mom didn’t want to catch you off guard this time.”
“You mean knee deep in dirt,” she reminded me, tucking the envelope in a leather-bound folder next to her. “We would be honored to come. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, leaning against the top of the golf cart. “You want to play hooky today?”
