Mine for a Day (Finding Love Book 8)

by Delaney Cameron

  When they got back to where Leonie sat waiting outside Second Time Around, Violet turned to him in the gathering twilight. “I’m sorry for all that back there. You asked for undemanding conversation, and you got an emotional woman instead.”

  “Were we sitting at the same table? There wasn’t anything like that going on at mine.”

  “You’ve got the diplomacy thing down.”

  “I’m not being diplomatic. I’m being honest. Tears are nothing to be ashamed of.” He got out of the Land Rover and came around to open her door. After helping her out, he didn’t immediately let go of her hand. “Don’t forget what I said, okay?” Then he shocked her to silence by leaning over and kissing her cheek. “Goodnight, Violet.”

  As she drove to her parents’ house, his words kept running through her head. They’re only a few males out of hundreds of millions. Don’t let a couple of idiots have such power over you and make you think less of yourself. Her hand reached up to touch the place where his lips had so briefly been. His kind words had moved her to tears, but it was his kiss that sealed her fate. She wasn’t sure if love could come so quickly, but she was close enough to the state to know that going back was impossible.

  Chapter Eight

  Jackson had plenty of time to reflect on his girlfriend’s erratic behavior. He hadn’t heard from her since she left for Gulf Shores, and that had only been a text message. It appeared Fiona and Alan had reconciled their differences; the same couldn’t be said for him and Myrna.

  Her continued resistance to his efforts to clear the air between them reinforced a growing suspicion that something more was in play than just his unpopular opinion on flirting. This cat-and-mouse game she was playing with him was getting old. When she got back to Columbus, they were going to settle this thing once and for all.

  There might be storm clouds brewing in his personal life, but his work-filled 4th of July weekend turned out to be very successful. He sold two houses and listed three others. On the way home from his last appointment on Sunday evening, he got a call from one of his college roommates. Hearing from Greg inevitably invoked memories of Carmen.

  As he waited for his garage door to open, Jackson’s mind traveled back in time to that crisp, fall afternoon. Along with a hundred thousand screaming fans, he and Greg were enjoying the experience of watching their beloved Volunteers beat the Bulldogs. During an interception that resulted in a touchdown, someone spilled ice cold soda down his back. He turned around to see if one of the Georgia fans sitting behind him had done it on purpose.

  The vision that met his eyes took his breath. Carmen’s light blonde hair, ivory skin, and baby blue eyes reminded him of an angel. As he listened to her offer to go with him to the fan shop and buy some dry clothes, he knew this was the girl he wanted to be with. At the time, he had no idea how impossible such a thing was.

  The vibrating of his phone brought him back to the present. It was a text from Willow.

  “I visited the Liberty Bell today. Pretty awesome.”

  “These kinds of texts are no good without pictures.”

  “Very funny. I’m thinking seriously about coming to Columbus in the fall.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. When you know for sure, give me some dates so I can clear my schedule.”

  “I might bring someone with me.”

  “As long as it’s not Carl, we’re fine.”

  “Speaking of our beloved brother, I hope you’re working on your speech. The big day is only a few months away.”

  “I was planning to wing it.”

  “Like you did at his wedding? Let’s not do that again.”

  Jackson laughed. “Cut me some slack. I was only ten when he got married.”

  “You were so cute in that pastel blue tuxedo. Are you going to wear one this time, too?”

  “Not a blue one. I was thinking of going with yellow this time.”

  “Whatever floats your boat. We just pulled up to the studio where we’re rehearsing. Happy belated 4th.”

  “Same to you, sis.”

  By the time he finished with Willow, Abbott and Costello had realized he was still sitting on the driveway. He could see their shadows moving around on the other side of the fence. After he pulled into the garage, he went through the back door into the yard. As usual, they were pleased to see him. Costello ran to the container of toys, found the football, and dropped it at his feet.

  “You want to play catch, huh?” he asked, picking up the ball. “Okay, go out for a pass.” The dogs took off in opposite directions. He threw first to one and then the other until it got too dark to see. “Time for dinner. The quarterback hasn’t eaten since breakfast.”

  Just as he was finishing his late meal, the doorbell rang. Jackson opened the door expecting to see Austin. The two had spoken earlier about possibly getting together to prepare for a meeting with a homebuilder later on in the week. Instead of Austin, he found himself facing an uncomfortable-looking Myrna.

  “I didn’t think you were coming back until tomorrow. How was Gulf Shores?”

  She stepped into the house and waited for him to close the door. “It rained most of the time so we came home early.”

  Something in the way she said that made him think she didn’t mean today. “I’m sorry to hear that. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, thanks.”

  He waved a hand toward the living room. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll be right there.” After rinsing his plate, he grabbed his phone off the counter and went to join her.

  “I’m sorry for coming so late, but I needed to talk to you.”

  He dropped down in the chair opposite her. “Talking is good. We haven’t done much of that lately.”

  “I ran into someone at the training session in Miami back in June. We ended up spending a few evenings together. I didn’t think much about it. I mean, Travis was down there, and I’m up here. Long distance relationships hardly ever work.”

  Jackson noticed the absence of any mention of himself. “But something happened to change your mind?”

  “Yes. He’s quitting his job so he can move up here. I didn’t say anything sooner because I wasn’t sure what he was going to do.”

  “I see. A bird in hand is better than two in the bush?”

  She stood up suddenly, the smile wiped from her face. “It wasn’t like that, Jackson. I wasn’t looking for anyone. It just sort of happened.”

  He rose to his feet. “You don’t have to get so defensive. I wish you and Travis the best.”

  “You’re incredible, you know that?”

  “How so?”

  “You’re so emotionally detached.” She reached for her purse. “You better enjoy it while you can. It only lasts for so long.”

  For once, she and Jetta were in complete agreement. “Take care of yourself, Myrna,” he said as he walked with her to the door.

  “You, too, Jackson. Goodbye.”

  As he watched her leave, he wasn’t so much disappointed as relieved. He’d known she was hiding something, and now he knew what it was. He smiled faintly as he remembered her parting comments. It was easy to say that when you didn’t know the circumstances that drove someone to that place. After his tragic experience with Carmen, he wasn’t about to allow his heart to get involved. One broken heart in a lifetime was enough.

  * * * * *

  Violet and Leah spent the holiday weekend attempting to clean out their parents’ attic. The cramped (and very hot) room was crammed with all the things no one wanted to throw away, but didn’t want to find places for. Along with boxes of clothes, shoes, odd pieces of furniture and household items, they found discarded science projects, Lance’s football trophies, and a collection of prom dresses still in their protective bags. By the time they called it quits, Violet felt as if she had a permanent crick in her neck.

  Leah’s departure on Sunday afternoon left Violet with the fun task of sorting through and cleaning everything. This daunting task took several days. Her mother’s once imm
aculate living room was filled with cardboard boxes and plastic totes. Having a good idea of what would sell, Violet was able to divide the items into those she planned to take to Second Time Around and those she wanted to donate to charity.

  When she pulled into the parking lot of Second Time Around early Thursday morning, it was already hot outside. By the third trip from the car to the shop, Violet was wishing she’d brought a change of clothes and waited for Summer. Her face was sweaty and red from her exertions (which was doing terrible things to her makeup), and her clothes were dusty from carrying boxes that had spent the last ten years in the attic. She definitely hadn’t planned this operation very well.

  Consoling herself with the thought that she could run home and repair the damage before anyone saw her, she headed out the door again. She was trying to find the belt to one of her mother’s dresses when she heard a voice close by.

  “Are you selling things out of your car now?”

  Startled by Jackson’s sudden appearance, Violet forgot to take a step back before she tried to stand up. Her head hit the corner of the trunk lid with enough force to make her see stars for a few seconds. “Oh, rabbit tails!” she squeaked, closing her eyes tightly to keep from crying.

  In the midst of the throbbing pain in her head, she felt a pair of hands land on her shoulders. Obeying the slight pressure of his fingers, she turned to face him. The only coherent thought she could come up with was a purely feminine one. Why did he have to appear now when she looked so awful?

  “Violet, I’m so sorry,” he was saying, looking more upset than she’d ever seen him. “This is all my fault. Here! Bend down a little so I can check your head. I hope you’re not bleeding.”

  The most peculiar feeling went through her when she felt his fingers moving gently through her hair. It was almost worth hitting her head to experience it.

  “You didn’t break the skin, but you’ve got a decent size bump forming. We need to get some ice on it.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  She might as well have not spoken. Jackson closed the trunk and put his hand in the small of her back, urging her forward. “We’ll go to my office.”

  “I can go home and get some ice.”

  “Why do that when I’ve got it here?”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  They stepped up from the pavement to the sidewalk. As they passed by Second Time Around, he asked, “You’re not dizzy, are you?”

  If she was, it wasn’t from hitting her head. “No. I feel stupid, if you want to know the truth. I must have done this ten times over the weekend.”

  He turned to look at her. “You hit your head on the trunk lid ten times?”

  “Not on the trunk lid; on my parents’ attic ceiling. It slopes at an angle. I’m not sure what the builder was thinking when he built the house.”

  “I can sympathize with you about low attic ceilings. I have the same problem with mine.” He leaned forward to open the door of Redmayne and Gilbert. They passed by a waiting area and through the first door of a short hallway. He guided her around what she assumed was his desk into an oversized leather chair.

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he told her somewhat unnecessarily.

  In his absence, she took the opportunity to do her own examination of her injury. He wasn’t kidding about the bump. It was about the size of a fifty-cent piece and very tender to the touch. He returned a few minutes later carrying a plastic bag of ice cubes.

  “This might sting a little,” he said as he sat down on the edge of the desk and held the bag on her head. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. This will cure me of trying to sneak up on someone.”

  Violet laughed. “At least when they’ve got their head stuck in a car trunk.”

  There was the sound of a door closing and then a woman’s voice singing.

  “There’s Jetta. This isn’t the way I imagined you meeting her.”

  Before she could think of a reply, an attractive woman in her early forties with short brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses stepped into the office.

  “Good gracious, Jackson! What have you done to this poor girl?”

  “I was trying to be funny, and it backfired. The poor girl is Violet. She works at Second Time Around. Violet, this somewhat bossy female is my secretary, Jetta.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Violet,” Jetta said. “I wish Jackson had found a less traumatic way of getting us together.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’ve been meaning to get down to your shop, but with trying to get back in the swing of things after my vacation, I haven’t quite made it yet. I’ll go make some coffee. I’m not sure which one of you looks like you need it most.”

  In the silence that followed her leaving, Jackson said, “Treasure in the Trunk.”

  Violet glanced up at him questioningly. “What did you say?”

  “That’s what you could call a mobile consignment shop. Pretty good, huh?”

  “I think you hit your head somewhere, too.”

  He rearranged the bag of ice. “Okay, I admit it was cheesy. Anyway, how was your 4th of July? Did you go see the fireworks?”

  “Leah and I went with my sister April, her husband, and Micah down by the river. What about you?”

  “I saw them from a distance when I was coming back from Green Island Hills. Is your head numb yet?”

  “The stinging has stopped so I’d say so.”

  He moved the bag and inspected the bump again. “It’s gone down a little.”

  Jetta returned with their coffee. “Do you need cream or sugar, Violet?”

  “No, thanks. I drink it plain.”

  Jetta handed her a cup and then looked at Jackson. “I should be furious with you.”

  He looked up from pouring cream in his coffee. “What have I done now?”

  “I ran into Myrna yesterday. You didn’t tell me that you two broke up. I’ve had that can of confetti in my desk for weeks now.”

  Violet’s heart did a little jump and then another. Before anything else disastrous could happen, her common sense kicked in. This news didn’t change anything. It just meant that she’d vainly get her hopes up only to watch him start dating someone else.

  * * * * *

  Jackson was used to this dissection of his private life. Hopefully, he could keep Jetta from saying anything too shocking in front of Violet.

  “I was planning to tell you, but I had to work through the grieving process. You know how fragile my ego is.”

  Jetta put her hands on her hips. “Grieving process? Fragile ego? Do you expect me to believe that nonsense?”

  “I was hoping for some sympathy.”

  “You came to the wrong place, buster. If you’d stop playing around in the kiddie pool, you might find someone who cares more about you than she does herself.”

  “Kiddie pool? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

  “That Waterloo I keep telling you about is coming, Jackson. And when it does,” she stopped and shivered dramatically, “it’s going to blow your socks off.” The serious look on her face disappeared, and she smiled. “Until it does, I’ll keep buying cans of confetti.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  She waved her hand at him. “You’re impossible!”

  “I know. You’re a saint for putting up with me.”

  Jetta laughed as she walked to the door of his office. “I’m glad you realize it.”

  Once they were alone again, Violet said, “I like her. She seems like she’d be fun to work with.”

  “I’ve told her many times that if she ever quits, I’ll have to retire.”

  Violet put down her cup and stood up. “Thanks for the first aid. Now I can go back to unloading those boxes and let you get to work.”

  “Since I’m the reason you’re behind schedule, I’ll help you do the rest.”

  “You’re going to get your clothes dirty,” she warned as she preceded him outside.

  “I keep an extr
a set of clothes here.”

  “I wish I’d thought of that.”

  As they walked the short distance to her car, he asked, “Got any big plans for the weekend?”

  “Rachel needs help with a wedding reception on Saturday, and on Sunday I’ve got some things to do at home.”

  “That probably won’t take you all day. How would you like to see the house that overlooks the park? I spoke to the owner, and we’re in luck. He’ll be out of town this weekend. He said it would be fine if I gave you a tour.”

  “I don’t know. It would feel…weird going through someone’s house when they’re not there.”

  “I do it all the time.”

  “That’s different. It’s your job to do it.”

  “Then let me do my job and show you the house. Come on, Violet. You know you want to see it.”

  She grinned. “You’re right. I do.”

  “Great. What time would be good for you?”

  “How about late afternoon? Say around four-thirty.”

  “That works for me. I just need to know where to pick you up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Call your number. Then you’ll have mine, and you can text me the address where I should pick you up.”

  Violet did as he asked and then opened up the trunk of her car. “Let’s try this again, and this time I’ll remember to step back before I stand up.”

  They were carrying in the last two boxes when another woman appeared behind them. She looked enough like Leah for Jackson to guess who she was.

  “What’s all this?” she asked.

  “It’s the stuff from Mom’s attic,” Violet told her.

  The woman pointed at Jackson. “Was he in Mom’s attic, too?”

  Violet rolled her eyes. “Jackson, this is Summer, the comedian of my family.”

  “Hi, Summer. I’m the comedian of my family, too.”

  “It’s nice to formally meet you. Has anyone told you that you look like Chris Evans?”

  Jackson laughed, not so much from what Summer said, but because of Violet’s groan and subsequent covering of her face with her hands. “No, they haven’t.”

  “Are you happy now that you’ve got the Chris Evans reference out of the way?” Violet asked, lowering her hands.