Claiming Tuesday: The Next Generation

by Edwards, Riley

  “Remember Mercy’s friend Tuesday Knowls?”

  Not only did it take a lot to surprise Nolan Clark, it took a fuck of a lot to shock him. And staring into my father’s wide brown eyes, I knew I’d shocked the shit out of him.

  “That is not a good idea, son.”

  “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Jackson, that woman is gonna chew you up and spit you out.”

  Now I was getting a little irritated. “And why is that?”

  “It wasn’t lost on me, under all that pretty and great smile, that woman is an island. She ain’t letting anyone near her, Jackson.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered.

  “Right. So, all you’d be doing is spinning your wheels. And, son, a woman like her, one that looks like she has a lot of experience shutting men down, can be lethal. I suppose it’d be painful when that door slams shut. You may want to rethink having a go at Tuesday Knowls.”

  “Too late.”

  “No, Jackson, it’s not. You also have to think about when this goes bad, where does that leave her? As far as I can tell Mercy is her only friend. Mercy is now a part of this family, which means she’s gonna want to bring her friend around. Tuesday might not feel like coming around if that means you’re there. There’s more at play here than you wanting to nail a beautiful, leggy model.”

  “Now you’re pissing me off, Dad. I’m not trying to nail her, if I were, I’d be there taking her up on her offer of servicing me as payback for what I gave her last night. But as you can see, my tired ass is standing here in front of you. And since when do you care about the possibility of screwing up family ties? Mom and Uncle Jasper go way back, don’t they? Mom came to Georgia to meet his family. That didn’t stop you from going after her.”

  “And that almost backfired. Since you remember the story so well, you’ll remember I also had to let her go.”

  “No, Dad, you didn’t let her go because of Uncle Jasper. You let her go because you weren’t ready to claim her and admit you loved her. And, I get why. What Nick’s mom did to you was low. So low, I understand why a man would never want to take a chance again. But I’m standing here instead of tangled up in bed with Tuesday because I know I want more than a tangle. I don’t want payback. I don’t even want to be in this fucked up sex-only arrangement she’s come up with.”

  “What exactly did you agree to?”

  “Sex. That’s it. No strings, no commitment, no talking, no relationship. A fucking booty call. It’s the last thing I want, but I agreed, because I know this is the only way I can get in. You got one thing right; it’s gonna be painful. She’s gonna fight me tooth and nail. You should know, I’ve learned a lot from you about the man I wanted to be. Part of that was paying attention and learning from my mistakes. It took one goddamn smile for me to know I was all in. One. That’s it.”

  “Damn, son.” My dad’s gaze held mine and I braced. “Maybe you need to slow this down.”

  Fuck that. I learned my lesson about going slow with Tuesday. Slow meant retreat. I was moving forward. And I was going fast. It was the only way, keep her off balance, and satisfied. If that didn’t work, I’d come up with something new. One way or another, she was gonna cave.

  “You know what she was doing the first night I walked in her house? Dancing. Hips swaying, and singing out of key, not giving the first fuck she sounded like a dying rhinoceros. I had to stop and savor it. At first, I thought she just liked good music and liked to dance. Now I know the only place she’s comfortable is when she’s locked herself behind closed doors and she can be herself. And the way she does it, she sucks every bit of goodness she can out of it. Because when she walks out the door, she knows no one sees her. Not the real her. Partly because she hides it, but mostly because people are shallow and only see her pretty face and look no further. She’s also scared of something or someone but won’t open up the smallest fucking bit to tell me. You know anyone like that, Dad? Someone so sweet and pretty you’d do anything to protect that soft spot you know they have under all their fake smiles?” I stopped to let that sink in.

  “You’re setting yourself up for a world of hurt. You think she’s locking herself away hiding from a world that doesn’t see her but you are wrong. That’s not why she hides. Someone fucked her over. Bet my house on it. And they fucked her good.” Pain flashed in my dad’s eyes, and I knew he was remembering the woman who’d fucked him over. “I haven’t looked in the mirror and seen that look for over two decades now, but I still remember it.”

  “You’re right, someone did. And you may remember the look, Dad, but you no longer feel it. Mom healed it. I want to do that for Tuesday, I want to be the one to sooth the hurt, but she won’t let me in. She was freaking the fuck out because someone had sent her flowers. Flowers, non-threatening flowers. That’s fucked. She was scared because they had her address. Her words were, I go to great lengths to keep my address private. Why would she do that? Then when I told her I’d Googled her, you would’ve thought I’d hit her. Something’s not right.”

  “Shit.” I waited while my dad worked through everything I’d just said. He scrubbed his hand over his face and asked, “You’re sure about this? Really fucking sure, Jackson?”

  “Positive.”

  “What do you need from me? We can run her. See if there’s anything on record that would explain why she doesn’t want her address out there. But I will say, it’s a smart thing to do. She’s in the public eye, she lives alone, and that makes her an easy mark.”

  Warmth spread over me, and it had nothing to do with the hot Georgia sun beating down. There it was, my dad would take my back.

  “I agree with you, it is smart. But it doesn’t explain why she was shaking. I want her to tell me. I’m gonna give her a week. If she doesn’t, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  My dad nodded then asked, “You about done yappin’? We got work to do.”

  He was so full of shit. My dad had all the time in the world to stand around and talk to me. But he was right, the fence wasn’t gonna fix itself, and I did need to sleep.

  “I’m ready if you are, old man.”

  “Old man? Shit, boy, I can still—”

  “Please don’t finish that, Dad.”

  My dad’s head tipped back, and he barked out a laugh.

  “I was gonna say outwork you. Good to know where your head’s at.”

  “Sure you were.”

  His hand pounded my shoulder and he started toward the fence. “I’m rooting for you, Jackson. If there’s anyone who can get her to come around it’s you.”

  It was a good thing I had him in my corner. I had a feeling I was going to need him more than I knew.

  14

  Tuesday

  My phone ringing cut through the song playing through my car’s speakers. The display announced Mercy was calling and I felt like shit. She’d called me three times in as many days and I hadn’t answered.

  I hit connect on my steering wheel and answered. “I’m so sorry I’m such a shit friend.”

  “Mm-hmm. Shit friend for ignoring my calls? Or have you been a little busy?” She laughed.

  “Um…”

  This felt like a trap, and when Mercy busted out into a fit of laughter then said to someone that was not me that they owed her five bucks, I knew I’d been busted.

  “So, how’s Jackson?” I could hear the humor in her singsong voice.

  Damn!

  “Um . . .”

  Fuck me running. How the hell did she know about Jackson? I was going to kill that little weasel if he’d shared.

  “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue or is your mouth simply too tired to form words?” She was still chuckling.

  I didn’t find any of that funny.

  “Neither,” I snapped. “And there’s nothing going on with Jackson.”

  “Right. That’s why he was at my house for dinner and wanted your address because he’d left his watch there. Now, if I’d just fallen off the t
urnip truck, I may believe there’s nothing going on. But, being your best friend and knowing no man is ever invited to your home got me thinking. What I’m thinking is, my BFF got herself some and didn’t call to tell me she’d lifted her ban on sex.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that in front of Jason.”

  “Oh, please, like I would, he already left my office. So, spill.”

  “There’s nothing to spill, Mercy. I screwed up. Wish I could say I was drunk and not thinking straight but that’s not the case. Momentary lapse in judgment is all I’ve got. It happened but it’s not happening again.”

  “Why not?”

  I pulled up to a stop sign, flipped my blinker on, and thought about her question. There were a thousand reasons why not. But only a few I was willing to share.

  “For one, he’s too young for me. Another reason is he’s Jason’s cousin. And—”

  “Okay, you can skip the practiced answers and tell me the truth. And don’t try and use me and Jason as an excuse. Neither of us care.”

  You know the problem with having a best friend for as long as I’ve known Mercy? I couldn’t bullshit her. And when I tried, she called me on it. Always had.

  “Tuesday . . .”

  “Fine. We had sex. It was good. Really good. He came back over to get his watch, kissed me, and walked out. Then he comes back again to get his watch because he thought it was cute leaving it at my house a second time, only on purpose so he’d have a reason to come back.

  “So, he does come, back, that is. That time he was pushing with the, let me get to know you speech. I shut that down and offered him a friends with benefits relationship, minus the friendship. He took me up on it. Promptly got started, did a bunch of really great things to me. I fell asleep before I could return the favor. He spent the night.

  “This morning I offered him his payback, and he got pissed. He started asking personal questions that weren’t part of our arrangement, then he left. Now, I understand there’s no way he’s going to be able to have sex with no strings, so I cut them. Done. That’s why there’s nothing to tell you about.”

  “Seems to me like there was a lot to tell me about.”

  “Well, now I have.”

  “You offered Jackson Clark no strings sex?” she asked disbelievingly.

  “Sure did.”

  “Then you offered him payback this morning when you woke up?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s fucked up.” She wasn’t laughing anymore. “Actually, all of this is really fucked.”

  “Why’s that? Men do it all the time. Why’s it fucked-up when I offer it?”

  “Honey, I love you. And there’s nothing wrong with a one-night stand or a booty call. What is fucked is that you offered Jackson payback. I bet he was pissed. Nothing like a slap in the face waking up next to a woman who you like and hearing her say that. The second reason it’s fucked-up is the reason you offered it in the first place. Jackson is not Travis. And you’ve sat back and nursed those wounds long enough. It’s way past the time you started opening yourself up again.”

  Not a single person in my life had mentioned Travis’s name to me in years. Many years. And now, in the last few days, the two people who mean the most to me have both said his name to me. I hated thinking about him, the only thing I hated more was talking about him. His name said aloud was enough to make me gag.

  “I’m over Travis. Way fucking over that asshole. And trust me, I know that Jackson is nothing like him. Travis was smooth, all class, nothing but silver-tongued compliments and promises. Jackson isn’t that. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m not interested. I ended it this morning. It’s over.”

  “You ended it?”

  “Yep.”

  “And how did you do that?”

  “I told him it wasn’t working out, and he could let himself out.”

  “Right. And let me ask you this, since this whole thing was your brilliant idea. At any time did Jackson tell you he wanted more than just sex?”

  “Sure. That’s why I shut it down and said sex only.” Mercy didn’t say anything; she just laughed. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did you call me just to ask about my sex life?”

  I was pulling into the grocery store and needed to get off the phone.

  “Nope, two other things. Next weekend my house for dinner and wedding plans—”

  “Yay. I’ll be there. So you set a date?” I asked, genuinely excited for my friend.

  “We did. Location, too. It’s going to be out at the pond behind the Clarks’ house. We’ll have the reception in their backyard. The property is huge and beautiful.”

  The Clarks’. Great, Jackson’s parents’ house. Special, really freaking special.

  “And I also wanted to ask, is Gran still at Autumn Lakes?”

  “Yeah, for another week, why?”

  “This is to be kept private,” she was whispering. “I just caught a case; the nursing home is under investigation. Prescription fraud.”

  “Oh, shit. Is Gran in danger?”

  I pulled into a spot and thought about my sweet grandmother.

  “No. But I still wanted to give you a heads up. You may want to look through Patty’s itemized bill and compare it to what’s gone through her insurance. But, physically, she’s not in danger.”

  “Okay. Thanks for the heads up. I’m at the market so I have to go. Can we do lunch soon, there’s other stuff I need to catch you up on?”

  “Yes. I miss you.”

  “Miss you, too, soon-to-be Mrs. Walker.”

  “God, I love the way that sounds. I’ll let you run.”

  Mercy disconnected, and I checked the parking lot before I unlocked my doors to exit. Since this morning, when I’d found out Jackson hadn’t been the one to send me the flowers, my imagination had been in hyperdrive. It was happening again. Last time it had started with flowers from unknown men, then it had escalated. And I could swear someone was watching me.

  Why is all of this starting again?

  15

  Jackson

  I was sitting outside Food Lion in my truck watching Tuesday get out of her rental. An electric-blue Mini Cooper. I was thinking about how I could fit the damn thing in the bed of my pickup when I noticed her looking around. For someone who was on high alert, she wasn’t very observant.

  I’d pulled into the grocery store parking lot two cars in front of her and was parked within her field of vision, yet she hadn’t seen me. But she was looking. Her head was on a swivel, and she looked just as scared as she had when I’d left her in her kitchen this morning.

  I was supposed to go into work that afternoon but a buddy had wanted to switch shifts so he didn’t miss his son’s birthday party next weekend. The captain approved it, and I was all too happy to get the day off to rest after working in my parents’ backyard all day. My dad had informed me Jason and Mercy were getting married next to the pond he’d put in for my mom, so there was going to be lots of work to be done over the next few weeks.

  Tuesday got out of her car still looking around. I was happy to see she’d stowed the phone but had kept her keys in her hand. I’d planned on giving her a reprieve and going back to my place after I hit the store. After seeing this shit, Tuesday was having a visitor.

  I opted to wait in my truck instead of running into Tuesday in the store and arguing. Undoubtedly, she’d reiterate the arrangement she’d come up with wasn’t working and tell me to stay away from her. I could’ve told her that her plan sucked and was never going to work, but I was willing to keep my mouth shut if it meant I got closer.

  Ten minutes later, she walked out with a bag, and repeated the same process as she did going in. After she got inside her car, I waited until she was out of the parking lot and followed her to her house, the whole drive over wondering why she was so nervous. By the time I was pulling in front of her house I’d almost convinced myself I was overreacting, she was just being smart and vigilant. But then I remembere
d the flowers and how worried she’d been.

  I gave her time to get inside and got out of my truck. I got to the door and noted no music was playing. I tried the handle and it was locked.

  I knocked. I waited. Then I pounded.

  A minute later, the door was thrown open and a very pissed off Tuesday was standing there.

  “You should’ve checked the peephole or looked out your curtains before you answered,” I told her and pushed past, not giving her a chance to slam the door in my face.

  “Why are you here? I’m too tired for this.”

  “And what is this, Tuesday?”

  “Your games, Jack. I had a bad day, I have shit I have to work out, and nowhere in that do I have time for you and your games.”

  “This is no game, Sweetness. And the last thing I’m doing is playing. Why was your day bad?”

  “Jackson, go home.”

  “Not until you tell me why those flowers freaked you out so badly that you practically jogged into Food Lion.”

  “Are you following me?”

  “Babe, if you had been paying attention, you would’ve noticed you were following me. Now, tell me why you had a bad day.”

  She was three feet away from me, in what I was finding was her signature pose when I was around. Hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. I had all fucking night to repeat the same questions. Sooner or later, I was gonna wear her down.

  “Please go home.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “You are shit scared and jogging into a grocery store. This morning when I told you I didn’t send you flowers you looked like you were ready to pass out. So, with all that, you wanna try again?”

  “Get out.”

  Yeah, now she was mad. We were getting somewhere.

  “Someone used to send you flowers? Secret admirers? A boyfriend? Who?”

  Her face paled, and I knew I was on the right track.

  “Get out!” she screamed.

  “Tell me, Sweetness, why did the flowers freak you out? Why’d you have a bad day? Why are you so scared? You’re running from something. Just—”