Anna and Jackson

by Tigris Eden

  “Welcome home, baby.” The Southern drawl in his voice is in full panty-melting effect. He’d gone all out. The table’s set for two and he’s opened one of the sweet reds I brought back from New York.

  “What got into you, Sheriff? I was gonna cook.”

  “You can help me if you want. Bread’s still on, and I was thinking of putting a salad with all of this.” His hands stretch out, encompassing everything on the stove.

  Walking in to the kitchen, I put my groceries away and grab items out of the fridge to make a salad. He’s thought of everything. He even remembered the raisins. My heart melts as we stand side by side in the kitchen. He’s adding more seasoning to the pot on the stove and I’m chopping up the fixings for a salad.

  “So, I was thinking,” Jackson starts as he begins chopping up bits of sausage.

  “Yeah, anyone tell you that’s not your forte?” I sass.

  He grunts but keeps talking.

  “Smart ass. As I was saying, you were talking about a studio, and I want to help with that.”

  I stop slicing my tomato to look up at him.

  “How do you plan on doing that, Jackson?”

  “Well, you need a space, and there is some prime realty on the market in town, across from the station. It’s right in the heart of town.”

  India and I had talked about that spot, but it was a little out of our budget. Especially hers, and she wanted to split everything down the middle fifty-fifty.

  “Yeah, India and I briefly talked about it over the phone. It’s out of our budget range.”

  “Not if I help you.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “Yet, you’re going to get it anyway. What’s mine is yours and vice versa. You’re going to be investing in your future, and I plan to make the investment with you any way I can. We’re a team, Anna. Or at least I want us to be.”

  Jackson goes back to slicing sausage.

  I go back to chopping tomatoes.

  It’s silent in the kitchen.

  I can feel the argument rising. It’s not even him, but all me. My mind is telling me that I want to do this on my own, that if something were to happen, I don’t want him to try to take my studio from me too. That’s the insecure me talking. My heart is smiling on the inside at his gesture. For once, I wish both my heart and mind were on the same page. If I am going to make this work--if we are going to make this work--Jackson is right. A little help wasn’t going to make or break me. We are a team.

  I drag in a deep breath, set my knife down and turn to wrap my arms around his waist.

  “Okay, baby. You want to help; I’ll take all the help I can get.”

  His eyes zero in on my face. Jackson’s searching for the rebuttal he thinks is coming. But I don’t budge.

  “Serious, just like that? No arguments?”

  “Not a peep out of me; unless of course you renege on your offer.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. Damn. That was too easy.”

  I squeeze tighter before releasing him and going back to slicing tomatoes. It won’t always be this easy, but I’ll do my part to make sure our lives and everything in it would go as smooth as possible. The rest of the dinner prep is done in silence, but again we’re balanced. I go my way in the kitchen and he goes his. We’d touch each other, or even hug. But it’s all in a comfortable silence. When dinner’s done, I fix our plates. We sit down at the table, and I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face. Jackson Storme cooked a beautiful dinner for me. He sits at one end of the table and I sit at the other end. A huge vase of flowers is blocking our view of each other. A few moments pass and I look around the flowers. Jackson’s eyes catch mine and we sit and stare at each other for long seconds before bursting into laughter.

  “Okay, not my best idea for dinner.”

  “Nope.” I grin, watching his face. He’s eyes are bright and his smile is infectious.

  Jackson picks up his plate and motions for me to do the same. We head into the game room and sit down in front of the television on the floor, placing our food on the coffee table.

  “I’ll grab the drinks.”

  “Okay, can you grab some napkins too?” I ask.

  Jackson returns with the entire bottle of wine and the entire roll of paper towels.

  “Aren’t you the resourceful one?” I tease.

  “I am that.” He leans down and kisses me on the nose before sitting next to me on the floor.

  I grab the remote control and flip on the television. Jackson suggests we watch what he’s put in the DVD player, and when I press play I can’t help clapping like a silly schoolgirl. It’s my favorite movie, Superstar. Jackson doesn’t comment on my ridiculous outburst, but I do see the corners of his mouth tilt up in a smile as he tries to hide it around a bite of food. He planned this.

  “You love me, don’t you?” I remark, batting my lashes at him and smiling wide.

  He watches me for long seconds, staring into my eyes. His eyes drop to my mouth, where they linger. I purposely chew my bottom lip and try to hold back my laugh when his eyes darken. “I asked you a question, Jackson, do you love me?”

  He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he leans forward and kisses me gently, tugging my lower lip between his teeth. I can taste the spices from the food and my hands drag him closer. Our food’s forgotten as Jackson turns, not breaking our kiss, and gets on his hands and knees caging me beneath his body. The kiss lasts forever and if the sofa wasn’t in our way, I know we’d be on top of each other. He groans and slowly eases back into a sitting position and quietly answers with, “Yeah, darlin'. I love you. Now watch your movie, or I’m going to go back on my five date promise and fuck you right here on the floor.”

  I’m not shocked at his words, but it does something to my body. He has my insides all gooey and the butterflies all a flutter as I try to get my mind back on watching the movie.

  I’m sleepy and it doesn’t help that my stomach is full. I’m lying in Jackson’s lap while he absently runs his fingers through my hair. We just finished watching Oblivion. I try to sit up as the credits roll. We’ve watched three movies. Superstar, which is my favorite, Guardians of the Galaxy, which we both agree is in the top five best movie list to watch with your loved one, and finally Oblivion. I’m not a fan of Cruise’s movies, but this one is good. Jackson is wide-awake. How? I don’t know, because I’m falling into dreamland. His back is resting against the sofa, and I’m sprawled on the floor with my head in his lap.

  “You ready for bed, darlin'?”

  “Yeah. Tired.”

  “Date’s not over yet,” Jackson says, lifting his legs, which in turn lifts my head. He nibbles on my ear. “I have to walk you to your door, get my good night kiss.”

  I turn my head sideways in his lap to look up at him. Mischief is dancing in his eyes.

  “Walk me to my door? I’m not going anywhere. I thought we were sleeping together.”

  “Is that what you thought, baby?”

  He is fucking with me. Has to be.

  Right?

  “Jackson Storme, don’t mess up this perfect evening by being an ass.”

  He smirks then. I roll to my knees and stand. Stretching my arms above my head, my shirt rises and exposes my belly. Jackson’s hands immediately find their way to my hips where his fingers flex, before he’s looming over me with dreamy bedroom eyes framed by his gloriously thick lashes. His eyes zero in on my mouth.

  “Well, if you don’t want me to walk you to your door, then we could fool around on the couch. Clothes on of course. I’ll keep it PG-13.”

  Rated R. My body insists, coming awake at the thought of fooling around on the couch with Jackson. I raise my hands to his chest before sliding them down to the waistband of his sweats, where I try to tug him closer. He doesn’t budge, but keeps staring at me. Devouring me with his heated gaze. Jackson rubs his hands along my arms before drawing me closer.

  “How about a kiss, beautiful?”

  I don’t deny h
im his request; we’ve been flirting most of the evening. What I’m not expecting him to do is destroy me with his lips when his mouth touches mine. His tongue explores every inch of my mouth sending shivers of unchecked pleasure racing through my veins. Standing on tiptoe, I deepen the contact tangling my fingers into his thick head of hair. My mouth is urgent and just as demanding. Somehow, we end up on the couch. Jackson’s hard body sinks into my soft one as I surrender to the moment. Our hands roam, and our lips taste places we are only able to reach in this position. I feel the hardness of his erection against the inside of my thigh. Thick and hard, its heat penetrating through the layers of my clothing. My hands move lower, and lower still, until they find their way under his sweats and I’m able to wrap my hands around his hard flesh. His eager response to my touch spurs my own, so I grab him harder.

  “If you don’t let go of my dick, Anna, I’m going to fuck you; and although that sounds like the best course of action, I’m trying to keep it simple.”

  Keep it simple. Keep it simple?

  There is nothing simple about what we are doing on his couch. I want to damn the five-date rule. But Jackson is right, we need to take it slow, and although five dates isn’t necessarily slow, it is for us. We know we’re compatible sexually. It is the day-to-day things we need to work on. Like talking and communicating in a way that I don’t take off and Jackson doesn’t blow his top. Taking a deep breath, I nod in agreement.

  “You’re right.”

  Jackson sits up, bringing me with him. We adjust our clothing, turn off the television, and head towards the room. Only we aren’t headed to the guestroom.

  “Jackson, I can’t sleep in there with you,” I say, nodding towards his room.

  “You can now, baby, come on. Trust me.”

  I want to argue. I am insistent about not sleeping in the same bed he slept in with Inara. I wasn’t able tell him in the beginning. We were starting out. It wouldn’t have been mature. I knew he had a past, but because he’d slept with her while we were separated, I want to put my foot down. But I relent. I am going to trust Jackson to come through for me and somehow make everything work. Walking into the room with him, I stop dead in my tracks.

  The old bed and mattress are gone, and in its place is a huge king-size, four-poster bed. A stone gray comforter lies neatly on top, with black sheets peeking out underneath.

  “Jackson.” I breathe.

  He’s standing behind me and tugs me back into his arms, kissing the side of my neck.

  “From now on, darlin', it’s me and you. You don’t like the colors, you can change them. I want you to be comfortable here. I want you to feel at home.”

  “Thank you.” I turn, looking up into eyes glowing with love. I almost throw the five-date rule out the window, but I opt for a good night kiss instead. Jackson takes off his shirt and crawls into bed. I take off my pants and get in next to him. He immediately pulls me into his arms and that’s how we fall asleep. Wrapped around each other.

  Give and Take: Chapter 16

  “Baby, you need to get up. I have to be to work in less than forty minutes.” Jackson grumps.

  I’m lying on his arm again, and I don’t want to move. I’m comfortable.

  “You’re the Sheriff, go in late.”

  “Can’t. I have a meeting with Liam and his father today.”

  “Talia’s brother?” I ask. My body stiffens and suddenly, I’m wide-awake.

  “One in the same.”

  I want to ask if Talia is going to be there, but think better of it. I trust Jackson. No reason to question his loyalty.

  “Alright.”

  He kisses the side of my forehead and jumps out of bed. It takes him ten minutes to shower, dress, and start the coffee. I watched in awe as I fight with my inner lazy. I can’t decide if I want to get up or stay in bed. Jackson decides for me.

  “Wake up, sleepy head. I want to show you something before I head out.”

  “Seriously, now?” I complain.

  “Now, Anna,” he commands.

  “Keep your gun on your hip, Sheriff, I’m coming.”

  I drag myself out of bed and follow him as we walk up the stairs. Our room is on the first floor, and there are four rooms on the second floor, and another three on the third, followed by the attic. He walks to the first door, closest to the stairs, and turns to me.

  “Baby, this is your room. Do what you will with it. I don’t care what it costs either.”

  “What do you mean my room?”

  I crack open the door and almost shout in glee. Instead, I turn and throw my entire body into Jackson’s. He isn’t prepared, and we both stumble back, almost falling on the floor. He bought me a table and some light boxes. It’s so I can have a dark room, here in his home. Our home.

  “Woman, what’s gotten in to you?”

  I sigh dreamily before saying, “You, honey.”

  His back is against the wall, and my hands cling to his waist. I lean forward and gently place a kiss on his lips, conveying my gratitude.

  “Thank you, Jackson.”

  “You’re welcome, beautiful. I didn’t know what equipment you needed. So I opted for the desk and light boxes.”

  “Baby, this is amazing. I don’t know what to do to repay you.”

  “You don’t have to do anything, just be you.”

  He kisses me hard then. My arms tighten their hold on his waist, and I don’t want to let him go. I don’t want him to go to a meeting that could mean we’re moving. Because if he does, he’s taking me with him. I refuse to succumb to my fears of us breaking up, or him leaving me. Jackson and I are in it for the long haul.

  “Alright, go to work. I’ll spend the day turning this in to the perfect darkroom.”

  “You do that. I’ll be home early tonight.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  We kiss one last time, before he finally leaves.

  I turn back to my soon-to-be darkroom and scream. I actually scream. I am that excited. I don’t care who hears me either. I run downstairs, quickly jump in the shower, and then call India.

  “This better be important. Sun’s barely up.”

  “India, he is letting me set up a darkroom in the upstairs bedroom.”

  I hear her yawn on the other end of the phone.

  “Did you hear me?” I squeal.

  “I did, congrats.”

  The phone goes dead.

  No she didn’t.

  I am so tempted to call her back and harass her, but I decide not to. I have to go out and get some shopping done. We don’t have a place in town that specializes in photography. I have to go on a road trip to Bossier. I search the Internet until I find a reputable store that has photo equipment and send a text message to Jackson letting him know I’m leaving. I call my mother to see if she wants to go along for the ride. She’s off today.

  “Mama, you want to drive into Bossier with me?”

  “Honey, you’re supposed to be in New York. And I still have the rental car.” She reminds me. I am supposed to be in New York. I’m not due to report for work for another couple of days. I’m still drafting my resignation letter. Drafting in your head is not the same. True, but it counts in my book.

  “Things have changed. Jackson and I are going to see where this is going.”

  “Didn’t I tell you that boy loves you, girl? Mama knows best.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m happy for you, honey, and as much as I like riding with you, I’m gonna have to pass. I’ll drop your car off at the rental company later today. My car has been ready since yesterday.”

  “All right, mom. Have a good day. I’ll check in with you soon okay?”

  “Yeah, baby girl. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Mama.”

  I have Jackson’s car, and I know he won’t mind if I drive it to Bossier. He said I could spend whatever I want on the room, and what I needed was in Bossier. As I’m walking through the house, I realize that I’m not going to be able to buy every
thing I need. Do I call my man and ask for some money? A huge part of me doesn’t feel right. I’m not due another check until the end of next week. The little money I have saved is going toward renovations in the studio once I’m able to sit down with India and the Realtor. I don’t want to overdo it, but knowing Jackson bought the furniture so I could have a darkroom in his house thrills me. Our home. In our home. I need to start thinking of us as one unit. A team.

  I pick up the phone and dial Jackson’s number. He doesn’t answer on the first call, so I figure he’s busy. The diner is open, and I don’t feel like making breakfast so I grab the keys to the car and make my way into town. Lane is there as usual, serving tables. She waves when I walk in.

  “Hey, Lane.”

  “Hey yourself, Anna. Have a seat anywhere you like and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Thanks,” I call back grabbing a booth in the back.

  Jackson met Liam and his father at the diner. It wasn’t packed when he first arrived so he took one of the tables in the diner’s private dining area. Lane immediately brought him some coffee and toast.

  “Thanks, Lane.”

  “Anytime, Sheriff.” She winked and made her way back to the front. He hadn’t gone into detail with Anna about what it was Liam and his father had proposed to him. He was interested, but he needed to make sure it was the right move, not only for him, but also for Anna. Finding out Talia lied to him for her personal gain didn’t sit well with him, and he knew Liam would want to discuss the treatment of his baby sister. He just hoped the other man understood.

  He saw the trio walk in through the front door and had to hold back his curse. Liam hadn’t said he was bringing his sister. If they thought to railroad him, Jackson would have to cut ties. When he locked eyes with Talia, he let her know without words that she wasn’t welcome.