“I see,” she said. “So, you’ve already got this arranged with the station, too. I thought we were going to head into Seattle to watch fireworks with my sister Tessie’s kids.”
He groaned. “You know what a long drive that is, and half the time your sister has invited the whole neighborhood over. It’s pretty chaotic, remember? The last time we went to your sister’s for her kid’s birthday party, you said, ‘never again.’”
Her cheeks flushed, and she stared at the dogs while fiddling with the hem of her sleeveless workout shirt.
The dogs took her focused gaze as a good sign. Both got to their feet.
“Down,” Jackson said, snapping his fingers.
They each sat, and then scooted their paws out in front of them and rested their heads on top of their legs.
“What about the part about you already arranging this before you checked with me? Is that the way we do things, now?” She raised one eyebrow on her pretty face.
His face grew hot. “I checked into available dates when I met with the counselor today,” he said, matching her defensive arms-folded posture. “And, like I said, I only asked Rick, the insurance guy, in passing. Look…you said I needed to do something. I’m doing something. I won’t lose you over my jackass of a brother.”
“No, we’ll both be dead in the woods instead,” she said, directing her gaze at the dogs again. She backed toward the sofa and slumped onto one of the cushions.
“I hate this.” Blaire’s voice cracked, and a few tears slipped along her cheeks.
His heart sank like a stone. “Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.”
He rushed toward the couch. He sat next to Blaire and put his arms around her, pulling her close.
She sniffled into his shoulder. “I hate to fight with you.”
“I know. Me, too.” He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her fruity shampoo scent.
“We argue about bills and stuff sometimes,” she said. “But we fight about Jake.”
Her words were like a knife to the heart. “I know,” Jackson said. “I’m going to change it this time. I’m making a commitment to you right here and now to fix things.” He brought his fingers underneath her chin and tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “Understood?”
Her watery lilac-colored eyes met his gaze. Tears clung to her long eyelashes.
“By doing something stupid, that could get us both killed?” she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She held the hand in front of her and grimaced. Then, she cast her gaze around the room. “Where are the tissues I put on the end table?”
“I had to clean up something Maxine yakked up earlier, and they were handy,” he said. “I’ll go get them.”
He eased away from her, pushed to his feet, and hurried into the foyer. Stooping, he retrieved the leaf motif decorated tissue box from the floor where he’d left it. He returned to the living room and handed her the box. Then, he sat down next to her again.
“My brother’s not a murderer,” he said, continuing the conversation. “He’s a lot of things, but he’s not that.”
Blaire dabbed her face with a tissue. “If you say so.”
Maxine padded over and put her nose in Blaire’s lap.
Blaire scratched the top of her furry head and then traced the white streak down the middle with her fingertip.
Midget took that as a cue and trotted over to Jackson.
He absentmindedly ruffled the white side of her half-white, half-black face, and she licked his hand.
“What if it’s not an intervention, so much as a conversation? Things have been tense between Jake and me for years. Maybe getting out in nature will do him good and remind him of simpler times.” He placed his hand on Blaire’s thigh. “He seemed to warm to the idea when we spoke the other night.”
She looked at the ceiling and shook her head.
Just like the dogs, he took this as a good sign of her flagging resistance and scooted closer to her. “It will just be for a couple of days. You and I haven’t ever gone camping. It will be fun. And,” he said, his mind whirring, “if it’s not fun, we’ll bag the whole thing, and I’ll take you to those hot springs and let Jake fend for himself.”
“We’re not going to leave your brother alone in the woods, Jackson,” she said, caressing his leg. “He can’t even take care of himself in town.”
“That’s not what I meant. We can tell him we’ll be back in a couple of hours. I know how much you like hot springs. There’s a great one in the woods near the lake. Just you, me, and the trees, girl.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Don’t give me that adorable look,” she said, suppressing a smile.
“What, this one?” He reached out and turned her face toward him, widened his eyes, and whined like a dog.
Midget barked at him.
Blaire laughed. “She thinks you’re sending out a distress signal.”
“I am,” he said, curling his fingers under his chin.
She playfully pushed him away. “You win. But if this goes south, we’re going to do it my way.”
“What way is that?” he said, his forehead furrowing.
“Tough love. If he can’t figure out how to live on his own without your help, I’m going to insist we move away from here.”
“But I like my job,” he protested.
“I don’t want to move, but as long as Jake interjects himself between us, we don’t stand a chance.”
He sighed. As much as he wanted to argue, she was right.
“Okay,” he said. “I hear what you are saying. If this doesn’t work, tough love it is. I cut him off.”
He shrugged outwardly but tensed inside. No way could he cut off his brother.
“Good,” Blaire said.
Relieved that the moment had passed, Jackson stroked her back.
“Kiss and make up?” he said, moving his face toward her.
“I’m all sweaty,” she said. “Let me shower first.”
“I love you just the way you are, sweat or no sweat,” he said. His lips parted, eager to connect with hers.
She inclined her head to the side but said nothing.
Jackson took the gesture as an invitation to nibble her neck with his teeth, the way she liked.
She moaned, leaning in closer.
He pushed his hands underneath her soft lavender top and then worked his fingers inside her bra so he could tweak her nipples.
She stiffened.
His fingers stilled. “What?”
She pulled away from him, and her gaze roamed around the room. She chewed her lower lip in a manner that made him worry she’d draw blood.
He backed away. “What? Tell me.”
She tugged down her top. “I, uh…We need to talk.”
“About? We just got done with talking. Now I need to tell you things with my body.”
“That’s just it.” Her breath began to quicken. “I think we need to cool it with the sex.”
The phrase landed with a boom and a bang in his chest.
“What kind of request is that?”
Chapter 7
His neck as tight as if a boa constrictor bore down on him, Jackson shoved away from the couch and paced the living room. She doesn’t want to have sex with me? Am I doing something wrong? Am I not giving her the pleasure she needs? What?
Sex with Blaire was fantastic. Sex with Blaire was better than food. Sex with Blaire made him forget everything, but how much he loved her and how loved he felt by her, two things he couldn’t ever get enough of in this lifetime.
But then he wondered if he came across as needy…like a child. The noose-like sensation around his neck made it hard to catch his breath.
The dogs grew excited and began to twirl around his legs.
Stumbling, Jackson stormed toward the patio door, opened it, and said, “Out.”
The dogs pranced outside into the twilight, probably thinking they were all going to go out into the yard and play fetch or something.
When he clo
sed the door between them, they looked at him with sorrowful gazes, as if betrayed.
He stalked back into the front room, trying to quell his panic. His boots seemed to pound the floor with excessive force.
“I didn’t say quit sex. I only said cool it down a little. We have sex all the time,” Blaire said, her eyes so wide the whites showed around the edges of her irises.
“I thought you liked having sex with me,” Jackson said, spreading his arms wide.
“I love having sex with you, Jackson. It’s hotter than any fire you put out in your job,” she said, fanning her face. “I really do.”
“Is this about Jake? I told you I’ll fix things. I’ll make it right. I promise,” he said, desperation grinding at his insides like sand against an open wound.
“Not entirely,” she said, her gaze shifting away from him. “There are other reasons.”
He moved toward the sofa and sat down next to her. After taking a long, slow breath, he said, “So what’s this about?”
“Well,” she said slowly, brushing her palms against her thighs. “I went to Purple Vines the other night when you were on your twenty-four-hour shift.”
“Okay,” he said, running his hand over his head. Is she going to tell me she went out on a date? “I used to go to that place a lot before I met you.”
“I know,” she said, a small smile forming on her pretty face. “Ryder told me.”
“Ryder?” His mind whirled, hoping that wasn’t her date. “Who the fuck is Ryder?”
“He’s a waiter. He said he really liked you and wants us to come back and see him sometime.”
He massaged his forehead with his fingertips. “Oh, right. That guy. Yeah. He used to shoot the shit with Grifter and me. Nice guy.”
“Yes.” Blaire picked at her fingernail—the one she’d recently chipped with the same nervous habit.
He took a deep breath, calming himself the way he did with patients out in the field. He forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “So, you went to Purple Vines and…?”
“I went with Lola.” She clutched her hands together and sought his gaze.
“Okay. Facts are established. You went with Lola to Purple Vines; you saw Ryder, and he told you that I used to go there with the Grifter.”
“Right.” Blaire forced herself not to pick at her fingernail. “He even had the chef slip me an extra crab cake because I looked like I was having a hard day.”
He inched closer to her. “Were you having a hard day?”
She nodded and blinked.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” he said, softly, reaching out to push her hair behind her ear. She didn’t pull away, so he took that as a good sign. “I could have helped.”
He leaned in and nuzzled the tip of her nose with his. Then, he lowered his lips to kiss her.
She yielded to him for a few seconds, and then pulled away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “Stop. This is what I mean. It’s too easy to get distracted by you.”
His forehead furrowed. “Okay, you still need to talk. What was your bad day about?”
Her gaze flitted away from him. “Um…well…that we fought the other night.”
“What, about Jake? That argument where you threatened to leave me?” He swallowed back the memory.
“I didn’t really threaten to leave you. But, yeah, that’s the one.” She smiled like he’d scored the answer in a game show.
“It sounded like a threat to me. But I thought we got over it and moved on to phase two of the argument—‘Jackson goes behind my back and plans something without consulting me.’”
“You’re sarcastic,” she said.
“Realistic,” he said. “I thought we’d moved on. I thought we moved on a second ago, too. I told you I’ll change.”
“But did we really?” she said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Jackson tugged on his earlobe. “Yes, Blaire, we really did. Or, at least I really did. I’ve moved on and am acting on my commitment to deal with Jake. Apparently, you’re still hanging on.” This whole conversation baffled him. Is she lying to me?
Being lied to by his fucked-up brother was one thing. But his girlfriend? No. That was a deal-breaker.
“Funny thing,” she said, shifting in her seat. “Lola’s mom is a sex therapist. And she told Lola that sometimes the sex masks the issues. We could be having really good sex, and it might be covering up deeper things that need to be addressed.”
“Deeper things like what?” Jackson’s jaw became rigid.
Blaire began picking her nail again. She closed her fingers over her thumbs. “Oh, like, our pasts. You know what we did before we met.”
The rigidity of his jaw spread to his torso, tightening his lungs. He lived for the now, not the fucked-up way he and Jake had raised themselves. He sure didn’t want to burden Blaire with his past. She deserved the good parts—the parts he’d fought to find—not the sorry mess of his growing up.
Anger sparked inside. “So now we take advice about how to conduct our relationship with your salon owner’s mother? And just how much did you share about us? What did you say?”
Blaire blinked. “I didn’t say anything about us except how much I love you and how I don’t want anything to tear us apart.”
He shook his head, bewildered. When he spoke again, he let his words emerge slow and measured. “Blaire. What are you worried will break us apart?”
“Things we don’t know about one another, that’s what,” she blurted.
Jackson pursed his lips, hesitating, unsure how to deal.
“Come here,” he finally said, reaching for her.
She scooted into his embrace.
He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Baby, baby, baby. The stars shined down on me when I met you. I love you more than anything. And I will fight to love you. But I’m not so sure telling you about my past is a good idea. My past sucks. And, from what you’ve told me, you had a normal childhood, living in a busy household. Am I right, or did I miss something?”
She snaked her arms around his back and pressed the side of her face into his chest. “That’s right. I did. Not much to speak of there. Mom, Dad, five kids, sometimes three dogs and two cats…pretty ordinary.”
He released his hold on her and leaned back so he could meet her gaze. “So how will learning about my past help us in our present?”
She glanced away and then back to him. “It could, um…it might deepen our bond. Or something…” Her words faded away.
He frowned. “I don’t think you’ll want to hear what it was like for Jake and me.”
Her smile melted his insides into soft, gooey mushiness.
“Christ. I don’t stand a chance when you look at me that way.” He pulled her close again. “So…I’m going to go change out of my uniform…and then, where would you like to start?”
Chapter 8
Blaire fumbled with the wine glasses in the kitchen, her stomach a knotted mess of fret. Her intention of facing the fire and telling Jackson everything had been sidelined by him thinking she needed to hear about his past. But maybe if he shares first it can make it easier to take my big reveal.
That’s a good strategy, right? If he sees how accepting I am, then, he’ll follow suit, right? And maybe I’ll get to see what Ryder mentioned about pain lurking beneath the surface.
She set the glasses down with a hollow clatter on the sand-colored Silestone countertop and reached for a corked, half-finished bottle of red wine sitting next to the toaster. Glancing out the window above the sink, she spied Maxine and Midget digging up the bed where she’d planted some fall vegetables. Damn dogs.
She rapped on the window. “Maxine. Midget. Stop it! Get away from my garden!”
The dogs looked up, met her gaze, and wagged their tails. Then, they got back to their task, no doubt, thinking she was pleased with their progress.
Jackson strode through the door. He’d changed out of his unifo
rm into a t-shirt and jeans, and her heart did its usual “oh, my God, what did I do to get with this guy?” happy dance as she took in his powerful body.
“What is it? Everything okay?” he said.
“Oh, the dogs are ripping up the fall garden I planted yesterday,” she said, with a swish of her hand.
With a determined look, Jackson strode to the back door, exited, and headed decisively past the patio furniture, across the deck he’d built, and down the steps to the concrete walkway. Then, he proceeded to kennel the naughty pooches.
They bounded next to him like fun-time was right around the corner.
After he closed the door to their kennel, he squatted and said something to them that had their tails wagging.
He always came to her rescue. Usually, his rescue attempts brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to her heart. Today, it only activated her guilt at hiding something huge from him.
Determined to get through this moment, she proceeded to fill the glasses with a generous amount of wine. She proceeded into the front room and set the glasses on the coffee table. Her foot bobbed as she waited.
A few minutes later, Jackson joined her, his mouth a grim slash.
Propping her feet on the footstool, she smiled from her seat in the forest green and gold armchair. “Don’t look so serious, Jackson. This will be a good thing. You’ll see.”
“Huh,” he said sourly. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
He dropped onto the dark gold couch like a bag of cement.
She reached over, grabbed a wine glass from the side table, and handed it to him. Cringing, she realized she stank from her recent run.
“To shared hearts,” she said, lowering her glass instead of holding it high.
“If it helps you feel closer to me, I’m willing,” he said, looking into her eyes with a frank expression, so clear it was like staring at a brilliant mountain sky after a long period of rain.
His gaze cut right through her soul, shining on her secrets. She almost looked away but forced herself to hold his gaze. “You’ll see. I can handle anything you tell me.”
After raising the glass to her lips, she took a long swallow.
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