by Ann, Jewel E
She took several big gulps of her water then cleared her throat. “Well I’m a lot more mature than what I’m sure my mother has led you to believe.”
“Clearly.” Jackson took a long pull of his beer then smiled at Ryn’s parents. “Are you both retired?”
“Ryan is, he retired from Kiewit as a civil engineer. He worked there in Atlanta then transferred to Omaha when Ryn…” Lynn’s eyes shifted to her daughter’s “…needed us. I still work twenty hours a week as a pediatric nurse.”
Ryn needed her parents when she decided to leave her abusive husband. It took an army of support to find the courage to leave the man who threatened to kill her.
“Look, it’s Dad!” Maddie jumped out of her chair.
Ryn looked over her shoulder and froze. Jackson turned to watch Maddie run into the arms of a tall man with copper-blond and gray hair, a custom-tailored suit, and a gold Rolex.
“He can’t be here,” Lynn whispered to Ryan.
“I see my lovely wife is celebrating her fortieth birthday.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood erect. Would she ever hear his voice and not tremble?
“You look amazing, Ryn … you always did,” he whispered in her ear.
“Can he join us?” Maddie beamed, but Ryn knew his being there was not a coincidence.
“No. He can’t and I have a restraining order to prove it.”
“Jesus, Mom, it’s dinner. Not a reconciliation.”
“Yeah, Ryn … we both know the restraining order is because you can’t control yourself around me. After all, that’s why Maddie was conceived.”
“TMI, Dad.” Maddie rolled her eyes.
Jackson stood and offered his hand. “Jackson Knight.”
“Preston Iverson.” He sized Jackson up before accepting his hand.
“You should absolutely join us.” Jackson signaled to the waitress, and she brought over another chair. “Here, you can sit by me.”
“Perfect, Mr. Knight. I don’t really like you sitting by my wife anyway.”
“I’m not your wife.” Ryn glared at Preston and then at Jackson for encouraging him to stay.
Jackson gave her a playful wink which only infuriated her more.
“Try some of this scotch, Daddy.” Maddie slid over her glass while giving Jackson a challenging look.
Preston rested his hand on Ryn’s leg. Her heart exploded as fear coursed through her veins. “My, my, when did you start letting our daughter drink scotch?”
She couldn’t speak as tears stung her eyes.
Preston brought the glass to his mouth as Jackson rested a hand on the back of Preston’s neck, his fingers on one side and thumb on the other.
“How’s the scotch, Mr. Iverson?” Jackson asked.
Preston swallowed then coughed once before his eyes rolled back in his head. His limp hand slipped from her leg as the glass of scotch landed in his lap before his body collapsed to the side toward Jackson.
“Whoa!” Jackson kept him from falling to the floor.
“Daddy?” Maddie jumped up.
Jackson shrugged while gently easing him to the ground.
“Mom! Call 9-1-1.”
Ryn couldn’t move, let alone call for help, but a few seconds later one of the wait staff came over and let them know an ambulance was on the way.
“Is he breathing?” Ryn asked, not that she really cared. Preston Iverson had worked hard to earn her hatred to the point of wishing he were dead.
Jackson nodded. “I think he just fainted. Maybe he’s diabetic.”
Maddie hovered over him trying to wake him up as a path was cleared for the paramedics.
Preston came to as they loaded him on the gurney. Maddie insisted she follow the ambulance in her dad’s car. No one objected.
“I want to go home.” Ryn couldn’t stop shaking.
“Sweetie.” Her mom hugged her. “Don’t let him ruin your day. Stay and eat.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head.
“Maybe it is best to reschedule the party,” Jackson suggested.
Her parents nodded with a mix of concern and anger on their faces. “Okay, we’ll call you tomorrow, darling.” Her dad hugged her. “Nice to meet you, Jackson.”
He smiled, tossing a wad of cash on the table before taking Ryn’s hand and leading her from the restaurant. “Wait here while I get the car.”
“No!” She grabbed his arm and bit her quivering lip. “Don’t leave me.”
His brows knitted together. “Okay, I’ve got you.” Wrapping his arm around her waist, he led her to the car.
After they drove a few blocks from the restaurant, Ryn broke the silence. “Why did you invite the man who used to abuse me to eat with us? I still can’t hear his voice without feeling his fist. Why would you do that?”
Jackson sighed. “I hate how you let your daughter treat you. You know damn well she’s the reason he was there.”
“She just doesn’t understand.”
“Well maybe it’s time you explain it to her.”
“What I tell my daughter and when I tell her is none of your business. And Preston … you did something to him. I saw you with your hand behind his head. Did you inject something into him? God … you’re so stupid. Do you have any idea how much money that man has? He could destroy you.”
He smirked. “I didn’t inject him with anything. I simply applied a little pressure to his carotid arteries, causing him to take a little nap. The fact that Maddie chose to leave as well was just a bonus.”
“That’s my daughter you’re talking about! You have no right to judge her. I can’t be with someone who … who …” She searched for the right word as fire welled in her gut. Anger stole her voice, just as it always had with Preston. He beat her down, physically and emotionally, leaving her broken and mute.
“Don’t get out,” she warned, throwing open the door before the car came to a complete stop.
“Ryn—”
“I mean it.” She hopped on one foot and then the other, removing her heels on the way to her porch.
Jackson jumped out. A few steps later Gunner greeted him with no intention of letting him go any farther.
“Can we talk about this?”
She turned. “Talk.”
“Can you call him off?”
“Nope. Talk.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
An older couple walking by on the sidewalk stopped.
“Is everything okay, miss?”
Jackson gave Ryn a pleading look.
“Yes, I’ve got it, but thank you.” It pleased her that they stopped. Where were couples like them when Preston dragged her back into their house by her hair after she tried to flee?
“Well?”
He tipped his chin down but only for a moment before looking at her again. “I don’t sugarcoat things. It’s not my style, and it’s not how I was raised. So here’s the deal: I love being with you and it may sound crazy because we’ve known each other two seconds. But you’re the last person I think about before I close my eyes and the first when I open them. Every day I don’t see you feels like wasted time. But the look in your eyes when Maddie put you down and then again when Preston arrived at the restaurant … it’s like the light … the life inside you just vanished. They’ve been this one-two emotional punch of physical and verbal abuse.”
His brows pulled tight as if he felt the pain in his own words.
“The truth is not protecting Maddie, it’s only hurting you. So it’s up to you, Ryn. Coddle your grown child and just keep turning the other cheek until she breaks you … because she will. But I can’t stand idle and watch.”
Until he turned to walk back to his car, she didn’t notice the flood of tears streaming down her face. Jackson’s words hurt, they even cut a little deep in parts of her heart. However, they felt real and completely different than anything Preston had ever done or Maddie had ever said. Perhaps, for the first time, it was the truth.
“Happy birthday, Ryn.” His sad smile clenched her
heart as he got in his car and backed out.
Forty sucked.
Chapter Fourteen
Within one week, fall graced Omaha with dropping temperatures, a sweet relief from the humidity. Nights were spent with windows cracked and a welcome break from the constant droning of air conditioners.
Jackson made a point of not being home when Ryn came to clean. The need to see her began to feel like toxic desperation. The need to let her figure out her own self-worth was greater.
Jillian refused to talk about AJ, and she refused to call him. She insisted he had her number and if he needed her he’d call. If not, she claimed to have made her peace with him and his situation. Jackson knew she’d put AJ on a shelf in her head, or maybe even her heart, close to Luke, and that’s where he would stay—tucked away and separated from everything else in her life. It was the only way she could keep going.
“Ryn call?”
“Nope. AJ call?”
“Nope.” Jillian poured a cup of coffee. “She’s not dying so you actually have a case to plead.”
“I already did.”
“You insulted her daughter, and then you insulted her by implying her unconditional love somehow made her a doormat.”
Jackson popped the top to a Red Bull. “That’s what you got out of my explanation?”
“Yep and I’m a woman.”
“So?”
“So she is too and if your sister, who lacks the female drama gene, thinks you were a bit harsh, then you were a bit harsh. Her daughter is an extension of herself, so basically you slapped her across the face and then punched her in the gut. Even if every word was true, and from what you’ve said I think it is, it doesn’t make it any less insensitive.”
“This … this is the reason I used to get laid and then moved on. I don’t speak ‘woman.’ Clearly I’m too much of a man to make a relationship work.”
Jillian laughed. “So guys in relationships are not true men?”
“They probably were at some point, but I believe they had to remove one testicle to make the relationship work.”
“Luke had two.”
“Bullshit. You completely castrated him and just when he started to grow a new pair, you did it again.”
“Wrong … you’re so very wrong. It was just the opposite. A guy has to have two huge balls of steel to be with me and you know it.”
Jackson grinned. “It doesn’t matter. Ryn never saw my balls anyway.”
“Just as well. They really are the most unmanly part of the male body. I mean … they’re sensitive as hell and ugly, man are they ever ugly. Like twin turkey wattles. The penis is the only thing that saves you, and men with ED might as well trade it all in for a vagina because at that point it’s nothing more than dead flesh that leaks like a hose.”
He chuckled, rubbing his hands over his face. “See you just proved my point. You verbally attempt to castrate men all the time.”
“You think?”
“I know. Lucky for me, I knew you before you had boobs and such a smart mouth. Remember those days? You know I caught you kissing one pillow and dry humping another while listening to “Baby One More Time.”
The laughter that erupted from Jillian brought tears to her eyes and an even bigger smile to Jackson’s face. “Oh my God! I was so embarrassed … I still am.”
“Well, put yourself in my shoes. Every time that song came on the radio I had the most awkward image of you and those poor pillows.”
“Sorry, I didn’t have a lock on my door like you. But don’t think I didn’t notice how many times mom asked you why there was always an odd number of dirty socks in your hamper when she gathered the laundry.”
“That didn’t last long. I eventually threw in an extra clean one to keep the number even.” Jackson tossed his can into the recycle bin by the sink.
Jillian sighed. “It’s crazy, but that was us when we were normal … innocent. I miss those kids.”
“We’re still pretty awesome.”
“Yeah…” she raised on to her toes and pulled him down to kiss his cheek with exaggerated smack “…at least to each other. Now …” she headed toward her bedroom “…give up a testicle and call the girl.”
*
Apologizing for whatever Jackson did wrong in the very complicated female brain required a grand gesture. There was no need to remove a testicle, even though they both retreated closer to his body reminiscent of a cold shower—just in case. It’s as if they anticipated what was about to happen the closer he got to her house.
The sexiest ass in tight cut-off jeans greeted him as he pulled into her drive way. On all fours pulling weeds by the porch, she looked over her shoulder and wiped her brow. He liked her in that position—a little too much.
“Focus,” he whispered to himself just before getting out of Woody.
Gunner charged him, halting Jackson’s movements until Ryn showed enough mercy to call him back to the porch. It was progress.
“Hi.” She stood and brushed the dirt from her legs then tugged off her gloves.
“Hi. I came to apologize.”
“For what?”
That wasn’t the response he expected. It was a test. It had to be a test. Women loved playing mind games. The probability of him passing it was not good.
“For last week.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“For what I said on your birthday.” His comfort zone retreated a good ten miles away.
“Which part?”
“The part about Maddie.”
“You didn’t mean it?” She stared at her fingernails, picking the dirt out from under them.
Of course he meant it. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. His poor testicles.
“I shouldn’t have said it.” Seemed like a safe answer.
“So you meant it, you just regret saying it to my face?”
The slit-eyed look she gave him said there would be no bonus points for honesty. He wasn’t even in the same realm as his comfort zone anymore. Casual dating and random sex never required much thought or carefully plotted script. No wonder he’d been so good at it.
“I’m going to go with … yeahhh—no?
“Yeahhh—no?”
A single slow nod. It was best to just stop talking.
Tilting her head to the side, she twisted her lips, eyes still narrowed. She was good—Jillian good—at ball busting.
“How am I doing?” she asked.
Gunner mimicked her head tilt as Jackson’s eyes flitted between her and the dog.
“Uh …” On the ride there he convinced himself she was worth it. Testicle-sacrificing worth it. At that exact moment he wasn’t sure anyone was worth it.
“You have any balls left?” she grinned.
Jutting his head forward, his eyes widened for a second before narrowing into a scowl.
Her nose wrinkled. “Don’t hate me. I decided everything you said was right, even if it did hurt. I’m going to have a talk with Maddie. She’s just been too busy to make time. I tried calling you about twenty minutes ago. Jillian answered, you must have left your cell phone.”
Jackson patted his hands over his pockets, she was correct.
“I called to apologize, hoping that it wasn’t too late. You broke my heart a little when I cleaned your house and you weren’t there. I thought you were really mad at me and didn’t want to see me. But then Jillian explained the situation and…” she bit her lips together for a moment “…don’t hate me, but she said I should make you sweat a little.”
It was clear that Jillian craved the taste of her own blood. Jackson would happily oblige her as soon as he got home.
“Thanks for reminding me why I have meaningless, sex-only relationships.” Turning, he walked back to his car.
*
Something went horribly wrong. Ryn watched in shock as he returned to his car. The only part of a man more sensitive than the aforementioned testicles was the male ego—like a Georgia peach.
When she grabbed his arm, he turned, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin ever. He looked like a joker.
“You! Not. Funny.” Pointing her finger at him, she gave him a cold glare. There were two possibilities: kill him or attack him. A week and a half earlier, after Jackson took her home on her birthday, she swore things couldn’t get worse. They did. She started her period.
Hello ovulation.
Ryn thought about sex all the time. Not normal fleeting thoughts of sex. Forty-year-old-whacked-out-hormones type thinking about sex. Woman-who-hadn’t-had-sex-in-a-very-long-time type of thoughts. When images of having sex with Humpty Dumpty—the mailman with a combover—in his white box on wheels crossed the conscious part of the brain, it was time for therapy.
“I’m extremely funny. What are you talking about?”
“I…” she shook her head with a soft chuckle “…I don’t know how to navigate this. Maddie came along before I had a chance to experience my young, vibrant, and wild years. The longest relationship I’ve had, outside of my debacle of a marriage, lasted two months and that was five years ago.”
“So?”
“So…” she shrugged “…what is this with us? If not random sex, what’s in it for you?”
Drawing in a long breath, he wet his lips. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“Because you don’t know?”
With a slow head shake, he bit the corner of his lip. “No. I know. I’m just unsure if you want the truth or if you want me to say what you want to hear … which might not be the truth.”
In all honesty, she didn’t know either. Maybe it was too soon to even worry about defining their relationship or think very far into the future. Time wouldn’t make the conversation easier, so she chose to hear the truth.
“I want the truth.”
There wasn’t a second of hesitation before he answered with steadfast resolution.
“I want a wife. I want kids. I want home to mean something so much greater than an address. I want sex, lots of sex, with the same person for the rest of my life.”
Once again, that decade between them spanned the distance of eternity.
