“What did you just do?”
“I took a picture of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful, and I like looking at you.”
“You and I must be seeing different things.”
“We’re seeing the same things through different lenses.” He reached out his hand for the helmet. “I’m ready for lunch. How about you?”
“I’m starved.”
“Were you too nervous to eat this morning?”
“Yes.”
“I feel bad now.”
“Don’t feel bad. You were right. I do like riding the Harley. It just took me a little while to get there.”
“It’s good that you don’t let fear hold you back. You’re willing to try things outside your comfort zone.” He put his arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her head. “I hope you like authentic Southern food because that’s all Mama Ruth’s serves. They’ve even got fried green tomatoes.”
“Rachel makes those. I love them.”
He ushered her inside the restaurant where they were shown to a table by a friendly waitress who introduced herself as Flo. “What can I get ya’ll to drink?”
“I’ll have sweet tea,” Violet said.
“I’ll have the same,” Jackson told her.
“If you want the buffet, go ahead and help yourselves. I’ll be back with your tea in a jiffy.”
After she left, he said, “I always get the buffet. That way I can try everything.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“After you, Harley girl.”
“Is that my new name?”
Thinking of the picture on his phone, he said, “After today, nothing else will do.”
They strolled over to the buffet in the corner.
She took the plate he handed her. “All this food reminds me of Thanksgiving at my Aunt Anita’s.”
“If you can’t find something you like here, you don’t deserve to call yourself a Georgian.”
When they returned to the table, Violet unfolded her napkin and put it on her lap. “I’ll need to take a short walk after eating all this. What time do you have to be back at work?”
“I took the rest of the day off.” He didn’t have to wonder how she felt about that. Her smile could have lit the entire town.
“So we don’t have to hurry. That’s nice.”
They were in the middle of a conversation about the concert series coming to The RiverCenter when she suddenly stopped and pulled her phone out of her purse.
“I don’t believe it!” She looked up from the screen. “Rachel and Pierre are engaged. This is so exciting.”
“Have they been dating long?”
“About six months. I’m so happy for her. She was engaged before, but it didn’t work out.”
“Love is wonderful when the two people experiencing it can be together; it’s something else when they can’t.”
She put the phone back in her purse, not looking at him. “Is that what happened to you?”
Her question surprised him. “How did you know?”
“Yesterday when we were talking, you said that love remains even when all hope is gone. It struck me later that you couldn’t know that unless you’d experienced it.”
He hesitated, torn between wanting to be honest with her and knowing how hard it would be to do so. The secrets he kept weren’t his alone.
“You don’t have to tell me, Jackson. Your past is your business.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not just my past. This story began long before I was born.” He picked up his fork. “Let’s not talk about it now. I don’t want to ruin a good meal.”
To his relief, she accepted this. “I was curious about that song you mentioned yesterday: ‘Ecstasy of Gold’. I looked it up on YouTube last night. The trumpet really makes the piece come alive, doesn’t it?”
“Did you watch the clip from the movie or just listen to the music?”
“The movie clip. Talk about suspenseful. Now I want to see the whole thing.”
“I’ve got the movie. We can watch it today if you don’t need to go straight home.”
“I never understood my mother’s fascination with Clint Eastwood, but there’s something about a man in a poncho with a rifle slung over his shoulder.”
He laughed. “I guess a man on a Harley can’t compete with that.”
She sent him a teasing grin. “It’s pretty close actually.” She picked up her plate. “I’m going back for some more fried green tomatoes and corn bread. Are you coming with me?”
Jackson nodded. “I was just waiting for you to say the word.”
* * * * *
As Violet went through the motions of putting food on her plate, her mind was elsewhere. From the stricken expression on Jackson’s face and the way the light seemed to fade from his eyes, she couldn’t help but think that whatever he had to tell her wasn’t the usual ‘somebody done somebody wrong’ story. Was this why he was ‘playing around in the kiddie pool’ as Jetta put it? Was he still in love with someone he couldn’t have? What did that say about why he was spending time with her? Did he just want someone to dull the pain and help him forget?
For the rest of the meal, their conversation never touched on anything serious. Violet got the impression that Jackson was regretting even the little bit he’d revealed. She wasn’t going to ask him anything else. If he wanted to tell her, he would. If not, that was okay.
After lunch, they explored the small town of Warm Springs with its quaint 1950’s architecture and wood-planked walkways. Along with a general store that carried a little bit of everything, there were some specialty shops selling crafts and antiques. Near what used to be a train station was a western store called The Lone Star.
“Let’s go in there,” she suggested.
“Do you want some cowgirl boots?”
“No, but I’d like to see you in a Stetson.”
“And a poncho? That would be indulging your Clint Eastwood fantasy. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
She tugged on his arm. It was like trying to move a semi-truck. “It’s a great idea. What could be better than Captain America in a cowboy hat?”
“This is payback for me taking that picture, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, all right. Let’s get this over with. Just promise me you won’t put it on Facebook or Instagram.”
“Not without your permission.”
“You’ll never get that,” he told her as he held open the door.
Other than a surly-looking elderly man behind the counter, they had the store to themselves. After greeting him, Violet turned to her companion. “Let’s see. Where are the hats?”
“Maybe they don’t have any.”
“You should be so lucky. There they are. Over by the fitting rooms.”
She led the way to a set of wall shelves. The selection wasn’t great, but it was good enough for what she wanted to do. “I was thinking white, like the Lone Ranger, but with those silver bullet eyes, black might be the way to go.”
One corner of Jackson’s mouth tilted upward. “I leave that to you.”
“Since I have a feeling you’re only going to let me do this once, I want to get it right.”
The other side of his mouth joined in, and the butterflies in Violet’s stomach started to stir. This was the kind of smile that made women do stupid things. It made this particular woman wish she could see it every morning when she woke up. Talk about a great way to start the day.
An impatient grunt from Jackson brought her back to the matter at hand. She removed one of the black hats and held it out. “Let’s go with this one.”
He didn’t move a muscle. “You put it on.”
“Fine. I’ll put it on for you, Mr. Grumpy.” When she raised her arms to put the hat on his head, his hands snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. “Jackson, what are you doing?”
“Making this worthwhile,” he whispered in her ear.
; “Well, hold still,” she said, determined not to be deterred. She straightened the hat and adjusted the brim, all the while trying not to notice that there wasn’t a millimeter of space between them. “Hmm. Not what I was expecting. You look like a bad guy.”
He gave her that smile again and then dipped his head until their lips were inches apart. “I feel like one, too.”
The next moment his mouth was moving over hers with an urgent intensity that made her forget everything else. Her hands knotted themselves into fists and then slowly unclenched as he trailed kisses slowly across her jawline before moving back to zero in on her lips. It wasn’t until he lifted his head and smiled somewhat triumphantly that she came back down to earth.
“How could you?” she whispered fiercely.
“Before you get all upset, look behind me.”
“I can’t. We just made out in front of someone’s grandfather. I’ll never be able to come to this place again.”
“Violet, please look behind me.”
She peered over his shoulder. The elderly man was gone. “Where did he go?”
“Outside. Didn’t you hear the door close?”
“Obviously not. Can we stop pretending we’re attached at the waist? I can’t take a picture of you from this close.”
He laughed as he let her go. “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”
“Your reasons for kissing me leave much to be desired.”
“There’s only one reason why I kiss you.”
“What’s that?”
“Because I like doing it.”
She pulled out her phone. “Get that silly grin off your face.”
“That’s hard to do when I feel silly. How’s this?”
“Now you look like a gun is being pointed at your head.”
“Is this better?” he asked, smiling faintly.
“Totally better,” she told him, taking the picture and putting away her phone. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
“It took forever,” he complained as they walked out of the store.
“It would have been over a lot sooner if you hadn’t tried to distract me.”
“I’m not apologizing for that.”
Because she knew what to expect, Violet enjoyed the ride back to Jackson’s house. In no time at all, they were pulling into his garage. He took off his helmet and then leaned over to help her undo the strap on hers.
“Is this something I could talk you into doing again?”
“Yes, definitely.”
He smiled widely. “I’m glad to hear that. Do you want me to go in first and put Abbott and Costello outside?”
“No. I’d like to see them.”
When he opened the door, both dogs rushed toward them. “Down, boys!” he called out. They dropped to the ground, tails wagging in excitement.
Violet moved out from behind him and bent to pet them. “Hello, Abbott. Hello, Costello. Have you guys had a good day?”
* * * * *
Jackson wasn’t entirely surprised by how quickly Violet had won over his dogs. She’d more or less done the same thing to him. He’d liked her from the beginning; without her having to say a word. It was as if they’d connected on some unseen level neither had been aware of.
That was the only possible reason for why he was considering telling her about Carmen. This was a subject he’d never discussed with anyone other than his mother. It was like a black cloud on the horizon of his life, ever-present, hovering at the edge of his consciousness, reminding him of his lost dreams.
“Do you want me to put them outside?” she asked, coming to join him in the kitchen.
Jackson couldn’t even remember walking in there. “Yes. They’ve been cooped up all day.”
“You’re so pale.” She reached up and touched his face. Her eyes reminded him of the changing color of the water in the lake behind his house. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a little tired.”
“Why didn’t you say something? I could have gone home.”
How did one explain the mental fatigue caused by a restless conscience? “It’s not that kind of tired, and I don’t want you to go home.”
After Abbott and Costello were taken care of, Jackson took Violet into the family room. He could feel the pressure mounting inside him as he contemplated breaking his silence. But even stronger than the urgings to say nothing was a compulsion to be honest with her. He was so tired of hiding from the truth and being weighed down with guilt. He knew he could trust her not to tell anyone else, and if telling Violet only brought a temporary reprieve, it would be worth it.
“Are we going to watch that movie?” she asked, sitting down next to him.
“Clint Eastwood will have to wait. I’d like to talk to you first. At lunch today, you asked me something about my past. I put you off because it’s a subject I try my best to forget. But you’ve been so open with me, right from the beginning. I want to be that way with you.” Taking a deep breath, he shifted his eyes to her shoulder and then to the wall behind her.
“During my senior year of college, I met a girl, and we fell in love. Just before the Christmas holidays, I took Carmen home with me for a weekend to meet my parents. I hadn’t told them much about her, but that wasn’t so unusual. I was always a private person.
“It wasn’t long after I introduced Carmen to my mother that I knew something was wrong. I didn’t find out why my mother was so upset until much later in the evening. Without realizing it, I had stumbled on a secret she’d kept for twenty-two years. Instead of being the third child of Walter Redmayne, I was the result of a brief affair my mother had with Carmen’s father.
“This meant that the girl I wanted to marry was my half-sister. There was no way to tie up this situation with a neat little bow. I couldn’t be with Carmen, and if I told her the truth about our relationship, I would potentially destroy two marriages since neither the man I’d always called my father nor Carmen’s mother knew about the affair.
“I felt as if I’d been swallowed up in some terrible nightmare. My so-called normal life wasn’t normal at all. It was built on lies, and in order to minimize the damage to everyone else, I had to continue to lie. Breaking up with Carmen was the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. With every lie I told her, a part of me died. By the time I finished, there wasn’t anything worth saving left.”
Jackson stopped for a moment, the horror of that time washing over him again. In his mind’s eye, he could see that horrible scene in Carmen’s apartment: the shock and disbelief on her face, the wave of tears, and then that awful, deafening silence.
He felt Violet stirring beside him and then her hand sought his. Instantly the images in his mind receded. When he finally raised his eyes to her face, he saw her cheeks were streaked with tears. A huge lump formed in his throat.
“Please don’t cry, Violet. I’ve made enough women cry in my lifetime. I’d rather not add you to the list.”
* * * * *
Violet could hardly process all that Jackson was saying. Losing someone he loved in such a way must have been heart wrenching, but the real tragedy was the shroud of secrecy under which he’d been forced to live. One single act had produced a disastrous chain of events, drawing him into a web of lies and severely altering the course of his life. He had no means of escape. It was there staring him in the face every time he looked in the mirror. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for him to visit his family; to talk and act as if nothing was wrong. No wonder he sometimes felt cynical.
“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “It hurts me to know you’re hurting.”
He lifted his shirt and began to dry her face. “You’ve got a tender heart, Harley girl.”
“No one could hear that story and not be brought to tears.”
“I’ve never told anyone else. But when you’re broken and twisted inside like I am, there’s an irresistible temptation to be close to someone who’s such a vivid reminder of what you used to be. T
here’s this faint hope that in doing so, you might regain some of your lost innocence and humanity.”
“Now I understand what you meant when you said your idealistic tendencies had been stamped out long ago.”
He laced his fingers with hers. “You can’t go through something like that and not be changed. It’s difficult for me to get close to anyone, and it’s almost made me stop believing in the goodness of life.”
“I don’t believe that last part. You’re thoughtful, caring, and kind. You laugh at yourself, and you take pleasure in simple things. Those aren’t the qualities of someone who’s quit trying.”
“Then maybe I’m not such a lost cause after all.”
“You’re definitely not a lost cause,” Violet assured him. “I don’t like to think anyone is.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’re not the kind to give up on anyone.”
Jackson’s thumb skimmed across the beat of her pulse, the soft stroke like a flame against her skin. She shivered as his fingers slid up her bare arm to her shoulder to caress her collarbone. Then he lifted her hair and buried his lips in the curve of her neck. Tendrils of feeling fanned out inside her as he made the slow journey to her mouth. The tender yet passionate kisses that followed showed more clearly than words how heavy was the weight on his soul.
When he finally raised his head to look at her, their quickened breaths blending together, she was relieved to see some of the strain had faded from his face.
He stroked her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “You’re definitely a dark horse.”
She sucked in her breath. “You say the strangest things after you kiss someone.”
“This only happens with you. I guess my brain takes a while to recover after that much mind-numbing activity.” He pulled her against him, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her back. “It’s funny.”
“What is?”
“How the simple act of speaking something out loud can make such a difference. It doesn’t make it less painful, but it does make it less threatening. It also doesn’t hurt that the person you’re saying it to is willing to hear it.”
Mine for a Day (Finding Love Book 8) Page 11
