by Kate Pearce
And if he stayed, maybe once Daisy was free of Silicon Valley, she would come around to seeing him as the right man for her.
A man could dream, right?
Sam and José were getting more drinks at the bar while BB caught up writing notes on his phone. Jackson realized he’d had three beers in quick succession and he’d better stop. Working outside in the heat all day had dehydrated him, making him feel the effects of the alcohol way too quickly.
“So what did you do in the service?”
He turned to Mayer, who had addressed him.
“I was in the air force.”
Mayer slapped his palm on the table and towered over Jackson. “I should’ve known it. You’ve got the look of a man who never set foot on the damned ground.”
“I did my basic training like everyone else.” Jackson met the other man’s derisive gaze. “I was involved in combat missions.”
“From where? Freaking Las Vegas? Where your lily-white ass couldn’t get hurt?” Mayer scoffed. “You chair merchants make me sick.”
“Hey—” Jay spoke up, but Mayer didn’t stop.
“How many men did you send into danger without fricking air cover? How many died because you bunch of traitors ended up bombing your own side?”
Before he even registered he’d moved, Jackson was on his feet. He shoved Mayer hard in the chest, making him stumble backward.
“Oh, pretty boy wants a fight now?” Mayer jeered. “Only one he’ll ever get into, while everyone else fucking dies.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“Why? You scared, cupcake?” Mayer asked. “You bunch of traitorous cowards, I—”
Jackson stepped in, grabbed Mayer around the throat, and lifted him off his feet.
There was a confusion of shouts around him, but Jackson didn’t take his gaze away from Mayer’s rapidly darkening face.
“Let him go,” Jay murmured in his ear, his arm wrapped around Jackson’s chest like an iron bar. “Now. He’s not worth it.”
Jackson reluctantly released his grip and stepped back, breathing hard.
Pasco and José escorted Mayer out of the bar. He protested as he departed, while the other guys loudly apologized over him.
“Promise me you won’t go after him if I release you,” Jay said.
Jackson nodded, the rage leaving him as fast as it had appeared. He sat down, his whole body shaking with the spike of adrenaline.
“You okay?” Jay squatted in front of Jackson’s chair.
Jackson blinked hard and tried to focus on Jay’s calm expression. Did anything get under his skin? Did the retired Navy SEAL look like this when he was killing someone?
“Yeah. I’m good.” Jackson took a much-needed breath. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about; the man’s a complete jackass.” Jay half-smiled. “I was so busy holding Sam back, I didn’t pay attention to you. My bad.”
“You’re not responsible for my behavior,” Jackson said. “It’s on me.” His gaze strayed around the bar, where the majority of the inhabitants were trying to pretend they hadn’t noticed a thing. On the dining side of the bar, he focused on one appalled face.
Yeah. Of course Daisy was here to see him getting into a drunken brawl just like his father. It just wasn’t his night.
* * *
When he abruptly left the bar, Daisy ran after Jackson and followed him into the parking lot behind the building.
“Jackson?” Her breath condensed in the cold air. She wished she’d remembered her jacket and wasn’t puffing from the two-minute run.
Jackson stopped walking, but he didn’t turn around.
When she reached him, Daisy placed a tentative hand on his rigid arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Thanks.”
She came around him and looked up into his eyes, shocked by the devastation in his gaze.
“Did that guy hurt you?” Daisy asked.
“No.”
“Then why did you go for him?”
“Because he was telling me stuff I didn’t want to hear.” Jackson slowly exhaled. “Can we just forget it happened?”
“No, because . . .” Daisy tried to think of the right words to convince him to talk to her. “It sounds to me as if you might have unresolved anger issues about your military service, or maybe some PTSD, and . . .”
“Stop right there, okay?” Jackson was glaring at her now. “You’re so way off-base you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“I’m trying to help!” Daisy stamped her booted foot. “Seeing you attack someone? That’s not like you!”
“How do you know? Maybe I got kicked out of the air force for being violent or something.”
“You did not.” It was Daisy’s turn to glare at him. “Don’t lie to me.”
He looked away from her, his attention fixed on the distant mountains. “He was right, you know. I never experienced combat on the ground. I did get to sit there and make decisions in the safety of our command center.”
“So what?” Daisy asked. “You did your part.”
“From the safety of Qatar.”
She gently shook his shoulder. “You did what you were ordered to do, right?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t like the flatness of his tone, or the way he refused to look at her.
“Will you come back inside?” Daisy asked. “I was hoping to talk to you about something . . .”
He stepped away from her and shoved his hand in his pocket. “It’s okay. I don’t need to come inside to hear you dump me. Let’s just take it as a given.”
“Hang on . . .” Daisy squared up to him again. “Who said anything about dumping you?”
He shrugged. “It’s obvious I’ve made you feel uncomfortable.”
“You’re right I’m feeling uncomfortable, but that’s because I’ve never seen you lose your temper before, and I’m worried about you!”
“Sorry you had to see that.” He stared back toward the bar, as if dying to get away from her. “I’ve got to get my stuff, but I won’t get in your way. It was nice knowing you.”
“Jackson . . .” Daisy stared up at him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Pushing me away.”
He blew out a breath. “Because we both know this isn’t going anywhere, okay? And maybe you should be congratulating yourself because you just got to see the real Jackson Lymond—the one who has a mean temper just like his father.”
“You got mad because that guy suggested you were some kind of coward by doing the job assigned to you,” Daisy said. “That’s—”
“That’s the goddamn truth.” His voice rang out in the silence. “I am a coward, and hell yeah I didn’t have to get my hands dirty, but I killed people all right.”
He turned away and stalked back into the bar, slamming the door behind him.
Daisy stayed where she was, trying to process exactly what had happened, still unwilling to believe the words that had come out of his mouth. She knew him. He wasn’t that person, so who had convinced him he was?
She glanced at the lights in the bar, where everything appeared to have settled down again. She’d have to go back inside. Her purse and jacket were still in the booth—at least she hoped they were. Would it be better to wait for Jackson to calm down and speak to him tomorrow, or would he be back to his usual charming, evasive self? If this was the real Jackson, maybe it was time for her to get to know him.
Chapter Sixteen
Jackson spent a while in the bar, making sure BB, Sam, and Jay knew he’d calmed down and wouldn’t be going after Mayer. He also wanted to make sure BB wouldn’t drop him from the project after seeing him get mad. To his relief, none of them said a word about his outburst and instead heaped their disdain on Mayer, who certainly wouldn’t be invited back to Morgan Ranch anytime soon.
Jackson was aware that Jay in particular was keeping a close eye on him, but he didn’t resent it. Jay owned the bar, and the las
t thing he needed was for another brawl to break out. He obediently drank three cups of black coffee and some iced water until he was ready to leave with Jay’s blessing.
He hadn’t seen Daisy come back inside, but he guessed she must have collected her things and gone home. When he’d seen her watching him, he’d felt like he was the one who’d been assaulted. He rarely lost his temper, but it wasn’t pretty when he did, and her seeing him like that? No wonder she’d come after him.
“I’d better get home.” Jackson stood and fished in his pocket for his wallet. “What do I owe you, Jay?”
“Nothing.” Jay waved away his offer and rose to his feet. “I’ll walk you to your truck.”
Jackson accepted the escort, said his goodbyes to BB and a still fuming Sam, who was annoyed she hadn’t gotten in a punch herself. He went back out into the parking lot behind the bar. Jay walked to the right of him, his gaze constantly flicking around the quiet streets and the crosswalk beyond.
“Force of habit.” Jay shrugged as he caught Jackson watching him. “Even though I grew up here, my lizard brain still thinks there’s a threat hidden around every corner.”
“It’s okay. BB and Sam are the same.” Jackson found his keys and opened the door of his truck. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Jay held his gaze. “Mayer was dead wrong, you know. Just because you’re on the ground doesn’t mean you can always save lives. I’ve been on missions when my orders were to observe and not interfere until given the signal to advance. I’ve seen shit go down that still gives me nightmares when I know I could’ve done something, but the success of the overall mission depended on me staying in place and ‘observing.’” He grimaced. “You did your job. It’s not easy. I get that.”
“Thanks.” Jackson nodded at the retired Navy SEAL. Jay didn’t speak much, but when he did, it was wise to listen up. “I appreciate that.”
“Good man.” Jay clapped him on the shoulder. “Drive safely.”
Jackson got into his truck, started the engine, and drove carefully out of town, aware that Nate Turner usually set his speed trap up on the county road just past the town boundary. The last thing he needed to make his night even worse was to get a ticket.
He focused on locating the unlit turnoff onto the Lymond Ranch road and got out to unlock the gate and close it behind him. When he reached the house, there were lights on in the kitchen, but no sign of his brother’s truck.
He went into the kitchen, where Grace was already snuggled up with her puppies beside the fire. She wagged her tail at him but didn’t come over to be petted. There was a note on the table with his name on it and he picked it up.
Rachel’s plane delayed for six hours. Have gone to pick her up at the airport. We will probably crash in a hotel and come back tomorrow. Cauy.
Well, that was good news. Jackson folded the note and tossed it into the trash. At least he didn’t have to get past his brother’s eagle eye and explain what had gone down at the bar. Cauy would find out soon enough from the local gossip, but at least Jackson would get a good night’s sleep.
He drank another gallon of water and took two painkillers in anticipation of the headache he was fairly sure was due in the morning. Grace didn’t seem inclined to go out again, so he locked the back door, turned down the lights, went to the bathroom, and then into his bedroom.
“Jeezus!” He clutched his chest like an old-fashioned movie heroine. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Daisy sat on the end of his bed. Her arms were folded over her chest and there was a determined expression on her face.
“Did I startle you? Sorry about that. I did ask Cauy if it was okay if I hung around.”
Mentally strangling his suddenly forgetful brother, Jackson scrambled to find his composure.
“What do you want?”
Wow, that had come out smoothly, and not at all like a demand . . .
She raised her chin. “I didn’t feel like we’d finished our conversation.”
“I was okay with it.” Jackson stared her down. “Where did you park?”
“On the other side of the barn. I figured you’d turn around and drive away if you realized I was here.”
“You’re right. I would’ve done that, which should tell you just how much I don’t want to talk to you right now.” Jackson walked backward to the door and turned to go. “You’re welcome to stay. I’ll take Cauy’s room.”
“Which particular thing that idiot said got to you?” Daisy asked almost conversationally. “Was it when he called you a coward?”
Jackson froze and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Are you trying to suggest that’s what I’m being now?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to tell when you keep running away from me.”
Jackson leaned against the doorframe and banged his forehead on it three times. With a resigned sigh, he reversed course and took the only chair in his bedroom, which was right opposite where Daisy had chosen to sit.
“You’re not going anywhere, are you? What do you want to know?” Jackson mimicked her stance, his arms folded, his feet planted on the floor.
She met his gaze, her brown eyes steady. “Can we clear up a couple of things first?”
“Sure.” Jackson glanced down at his watch, as if he had far more important things to do, which was kind of pathetic, and wouldn’t fool anyone.
“You weren’t let go from the air force for being violent, were you?”
“No.” He was tired, he wanted to go to bed, and he had no energy left to fight with her.
She nodded. “Your friend Pez seemed to think if you wanted to go back, you’d be welcomed.”
“Pez is a good guy.”
“Which doesn’t answer my question.”
“That wasn’t a question; that was a statement of fact,” Jackson objected.
“Jeez.” Daisy sighed. “I’d forgotten how pedantic you are.”
“I just like to keep things straight.” Jackson stared at her, but she didn’t look away. “I chose not to renew my contract.”
“Why?”
“Why does it matter?”
She sat forward, her hands clasped between her knees. “Because it matters to you. What happened to make you leave a job you were apparently good at and loved?”
He glanced furtively at the door. Maybe he could make a run for it, but if he wanted to live in Morgan Valley, he wouldn’t be able to escape Daisy Miller for long. And hadn’t he run away from enough people lately? His job, his mother, his brother . . .
“Okay. I planned a mission over Afghanistan. There was some miscommunication and our information was compromised, which meant that I, we, sent the planes to the wrong drop zone. Several of our own people were killed.”
He forced himself to meet her gaze, but she didn’t speak, she just looked at him until he felt compelled to continue.
“A couple of my good friends didn’t make it back.”
“That must have been terrible.”
“Yeah. There’s not much you can do when you see everything going wrong and you’re hundreds of miles away. You can hear them, though—the pilots, the crews, the soldiers being dropped in the zone—you can hear them dying.”
“Oh Jackson . . .” Her voice softened and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t want to look at her. He’d already lost his temper. Now he felt as if he might fall apart completely, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Hey, I’m alive.” He shrugged. “They aren’t. Save your tears for those who deserve them.”
She came toward him, and he flinched as she wrapped her arms around him. God, he wanted to drop his head onto her shoulder and stay there forever . . .
Instead, he took her gently by the elbows and set her away from him. “It’s getting late. You should go.”
“Jackson . . .” She met his gaze. “I—”
He found a smile somewhere. “I don’t need pity
sex, okay? I’ve lived with this for a while, and I’m going to have to learn to live with it for the rest of my life. We agreed that last time I tried to use sex to forget my problems, it was a disaster, so let’s just leave it at that.”
* * *
“Pity sex?” Daisy repeated, her sympathy for Jackson rapidly becoming infused with way less kindly emotions. “I’m trying to help!”
“Yeah, by offering me sex.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I haven’t offered you anything yet.”
“But you will.” Jackson held her gaze. “I know you.”
“You think I go around offering sex to anyone I feel sorry for?” She raised her chin. “Wow. If that’s what you believe, you really don’t know me very well at all.”
“You’re a good person, Daisy.”
“I’m currently lying through my teeth to my entire family and I’ve used up all my capital on a new start-up so I can’t help my brother!” Daisy only realized she might be yelling when Jackson winced. “And let’s not forget I’ve screwed you around horribly as well! I’m hardly a good role model.”
“All that shit is solvable, and you damn well know it.”
“So we’re comparing now? That your shit is worse than mine?”
“You damn well know it is.” He shoved a hand through his dark hair, his gaze frustrated. “And you also know that one fricking honest conversation with your family will sort it all out because they love you. So who’s the real coward, Daisy?”
She swallowed hard and forced herself to keep looking at him. “Nice deflection, dude, and yes, I am a coward. Thanks for reminding me.” She half-turned toward the door. “And I think that’s my cue to leave. You can’t possibly have anything worse you want to say to me?”
He dropped his gaze to the floor, sending her heart plummeting along with it.
“Daisy, if you need me to keep covering for you with your family, I’m more than willing to do so.”
He sounded weary and defeated, and it hurt her to breathe.