It was such a familiar feeling—her hand in his. It was calming. It felt like home.
Shocked by her reaction, she dropped his hand as soon as she could and focused her attention on applying pressure to her cut.
They could be friends, but touching had to be off the table. Especially when her body couldn’t seem to remember Bobby. She couldn’t let the feeling of Jackson’s skin against hers fill the broken cracks of her soul, right now.
Jackson was off limits.
“Come on,” he said, motioning toward the care center’s sliding doors.
Isabel pinched her lips together and nodded as she moved toward the entrance.
Once inside, Jackson found a chair in the waiting area, and Isabel headed to the front desk. After explaining what had happened and filling out some paperwork, she was told to sit and wait. She nodded and glanced behind her to find Jackson had settled in with a magazine propped up on his crossed leg.
He looked so relaxed and at ease. Not a jumble of nerves like she was.
It was idiotic for her to be reading into everything. He looked like he’d moved on and legitimately wanted to be friends. She was the one who was reacting to his every touch.
Feeling stupid, Isabel shushed her emotions and made her way over to the chair next to Jackson. Once she was settled, she called the Italian Shoppe to tell them she was probably not going to be coming in.
“Thanks, Pat,” she said, after her manager told her to take it easy, and that he would see her the next time she was on the schedule. Losing a shift meant losing out on money and tips. And that meant it would take longer until Dad could come home.
The dream of taking care of her dad was slipping farther away from her.
And it was breaking her heart.
She slipped her phone into her purse and sighed. Jackson glanced over at her.
“Everything okay?”
Isabel chewed her lip as she nodded. “Yeah.” And then she winced. She didn’t even believe her own lie. Did she honestly think that Jackson would?
“Really?”
She turned to see him studying her. His eyes were wide, and she could tell that he didn’t believe a word she’d said. But revealing her pathetic excuse for a life to her ex was the last thing she wanted to do, so she forced a smile and nodded. “Of course, it is.”
Jackson growled. “Isabel Andrews, I know you. I can tell when you are lying.” He reached out like he was about to take her hand but stopped himself as his hand hovered over hers. It was amazing how something that had seemed simple years ago felt so strange now.
He cleared his throat as he brought his hand back to his lap and grabbed the magazine. “You don’t have to lie to me. I can help.”
Isabel’s throat constricted as she blinked a few times. Sure, he’d help—until things got hard and he ran. Wasn’t that what had happened? She’d done something and he was too afraid to face it. Or maybe the thought of living in a small town with his high school sweetheart wasn’t ambitious enough for him.
None of those thoughts helped her feel any better. And she wasn’t interested in baring her soul to someone who would be out of here in a few days.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said, moving her hands to her lap. Her finger began to throb.
Thankfully, the nurse walked in and called her name. She nodded and hurried to grab her purse and head back to the exam rooms.
An hour and three stitches later, she walked out with gauze wrapped around her finger and a prescription for some pain meds and antibiotics.
She half expected to see Jackson’s chair empty, but her heart pounded when she saw that he was still there. He was reclined in his chair, with his head resting on the back and his legs sprawled out in front of him. His eyes were closed, and his arms folded across his chest.
He’d stayed.
Why?
Frustrated with the feelings that were surfacing, Isabel walked over to the pharmacy to fill her prescriptions. Once they were in hand, she made her way back over to Jackson. She couldn’t just leave him there. Not when he’d waited.
So she walked over to him and nudged his foot.
“Hey,” she said.
Jackson startled, his eyes opening and his hazy gaze falling on her. “Hey,” he said, sitting up and pushing his hands through his hair. “Sorry, I think I fell asleep.”
She nodded. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good with his disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow. She was pretty sure stress had added twenty years to her reflection.
“You stayed,” she said, her surprise sounding in her voice.
Jackson cleared his throat as he stood. “Of course, I did. How would you get home?” Then he sighed. “And who knows what my mom would do to me if I’d left.” He glanced down at her hand. “Get everything fixed?”
Isabel nodded. “Three stitches, but everything is good.”
Jackson shot her a smile. It was genuine and sweet. “I’m happy to hear that.” Then he glanced toward the sliding doors. “Shall we?”
Isabel nodded. “Thanks.”
They made their way toward the exit just as a familiar voice called out to them. Isabel stopped and winced when she realized it was Sondra Braxton.
Isabel glanced over at Jackson—he looked just as shocked as she felt. Before Isabel had time to blink, Sondra was wrapping both of them up into side hugs.
“What are you two doing here?” Sondra asked as she pulled back, keeping her hands firmly planted on their forearms. Like she was afraid that one of them would sprint away.
“Hey, Ma,” Jackson said.
Sondra shot him a look and then glanced over at Isabel. “I haven’t seen you in a while, sweetie. How’s your dad?”
Isabel winced. That was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Especially with Jackson standing right next to them.
Hoping to move the conversation forward, Isabel just smiled. “He’s great.” Then she furrowed her brow. “What are you doing here?”
Mrs. Braxton looked as if she were going to ask more questions, but then she shifted gears and waved toward Mr. Braxton, who was walking out of the exam area and into the lobby. He was holding a piece of cotton to the inner crook of his arm.
“Just a blood draw,” she said, waving Mr. Braxton over.
“Everything okay?” Jackson asked.
Mrs. Braxton shushed him and nodded. “He’s as healthy as a horse.” Then she zeroed in on the two of them once more. “What are you two doing here?”
Isabel’s cheeks flushed with heat at Mrs. Braxton’s implication. “I cut myself at Humanitarian Hearts, and Jackson—”
“I offered to take her here,” Jackson finished.
Mrs. Braxton moved her gaze between the two of them. The height of her eyebrows told Isabel she was very intrigued.
“As friends,” Jackson added.
Mrs. Braxton clicked her tongue as she held out her hand. Not sure what to do, Isabel reached out and took it. Mrs. Braxton squeezed her fingers. “You know what would be amazing?”
Isabel wasn’t sure she was going to like where Mrs. Braxton was going. “What?”
“Ma,” Jackson said, his voice low and full of warning.
Mrs. Braxton waved him away. “Come to dinner tomorrow. You can say hi to the whole family. Everyone’s in town for Jonathan and Tiffany’s wedding.” She reached out and wrapped Isabel in a hug. “It’d be great to catch up.”
“You don’t have to,” Jackson offered, stepping into Isabel’s view.
Not sure what to do, Isabel winced. She’d always loved Mrs. Braxton, but spending the evening with the Braxton family really wasn’t what she would classify as moving on from Jackson.
But the hopeful glint in Mrs. Braxton eyes confused her, so she said, “Maybe.”
Mrs. Braxton must have taken that as a yes because she clapped her hands and declared that Jackson would text her the information—or “whatever you kids do these days”—and then she ushered Mr. Braxton through the doors.
When they disappeared into the parking lot, Isabel glanced back at Jackson. He looked like he’d just swallowed a whole lemon. When he met her gaze, he offered her an apologetic look.
“You don’t have to…” he said as he shoved his hands into his front pockets and shrugged.
Isabel nodded. “I know.”
Their conversation fell silent, and the weight of the day pushed down on Isabel. She glanced at Jackson. “Can you take me home?” she asked.
Jackson look relieved as he nodded. “Of course.”
Isabel followed Jackson out to the parking lot. Her mind was reeling from everything that had happened. All the confusing emotions that were coursing through her veins were making it hard for her to resolve to forget Jackson.
Forgetting him seemed to be the last thing her heart or her mind wanted to do.
Chapter Five
Jackson sighed as he watched Isabel disappear into her house. His chest squeezed as he pulled out of the driveway. The time they’d spent together had him all out of sorts. His heart disagreed with his mind, and he felt as if he were being pulled in two different directions.
And after his mom’s invitation to Isabel, it was clear his trip home was not going to go as planned. He’d hoped to put his feelings for Isabel to rest. To see her happily engaged so that he could finally have some closure.
None of that was happening.
Jackson growled as he pulled to a stop at a red light. Why had he allowed himself to get involved? Why had he allowed Isabel to walk back into his life?
In New York He’d done so well at forgetting the one girl who had stolen his heart. Now it seemed he was a glutton for punishment.
She was engaged, and her father probably still hated him.
Yep, he was a smart one.
Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he pressed on the gas and flew through the green light. He needed to drive. He needed space.
Just as he got onto the highway that ran alongside the ocean, his phone rang.
It was a South Carolina area code, but he didn’t recognize the number. Not sure who it was, he pressed talk and brought the phone to his cheek.
“Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Braxton?” a female voice asked.
“It is.”
“This is Honey Grove Towing. We’ve got an estimate for the repairs. It seems like you need a new ignition, brakes, and tires. The cost is about a thousand dollars.”
Jackson swallowed, thinking about Isabel. She seemed distressed when she had to call in sick to work, and from the look of her house, a grand was not something she had just sitting in the bank.
“I’ll pay for it. Fix whatever you need to so that the car is safe.”
The woman rattled off a few more instructions and said he could pick the car up tomorrow around noon.
Jackson thanked her and then hung up.
The silence was getting to him, so he reached over and flipped on the radio. Familiar cords and melodies filled the air, and Jackson found himself relaxing into his seat. He leaned back, resting his wrist on the steering wheel.
This was what he needed. The expansiveness of the road, not the stifled feeling of the past that smothered him when he was home. Here, he could be free. Here, he wasn’t failing everyone he loved. Here, it didn’t matter if Isabel’s dad thought he wasn’t good enough for his daughter.
Here, he was just himself.
Jackson drove for an hour before he got a text from Josh asking where he was. Realizing that he couldn’t spend his entire time in Honey Grove on the road, he texted that he was on his way and dropped his phone in the passenger seat.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of his childhood home. It was dark out now, the stars above shining through the windshield.
The windows of his parents’ two-story house were lit up, and every so often he saw the shadow of someone walking by a window.
Even though he tried to tell himself that being a lone wolf wasn’t so bad, he missed his family when he was in New York. And if he were honest with himself, he was excited to reconnect with everyone.
Being the youngest Braxton boy did have its drawbacks, though. While Josh, Jonathan, and James shared a strong bond, they had always been too busy to bother with him.
Thank goodness for Jenna, but even then, she’d always had her own thing. Jackson always felt like he’d been the forgotten child.
Jackson pushed those thoughts from his mind as he pulled open the driver’s door. Once his feet landed on the driveway, he made his way up the porch steps to the front door.
He turned the handle, and the door opened, revealing his family.
Some were gathered in the living room, and others could be heard from the kitchen.
“Jackson,” Josh’s familiar voice exclaimed. Before he knew what was going on, Josh’s arms were around him and pulling him into a bear hug.
“Hey, Josh,” Jackson said, thumping Josh’s back.
Jonathan and James came into the room with their arms open. In a matter of seconds, Jackson was sandwiched between his three older brothers.
What had started out as a friendly hug quickly turned into a wrestling match. Determined to finally win, Jackson took on Josh and had him down on the ground in a head lock while Jonathan battled for dominance with James.
“Boys!” Sondra yelled.
Jackson laughed as he let go of Josh, and they all four flopped onto the carpet. Sondra came into view with a very displeased expression.
“If you’re going to act like animals, go outside,” she said, pointing her finger toward the window for emphasis.
Josh stood and reached down, offering his hand to Jackson. “Ah, Ma. It’s all in good fun.”
Jackson chuckled as Josh helped him up, and then he made his way over to Sondra and wrapped her into a hug. A few seconds later, Josh, Jonathan, and James did the same, smashing their mom with a bear hug.
“You’re squishing me!” she exclaimed through her laughter.
“Let your mom go,” Tiffany said as she entered the room. Jonathan obeyed, and shortly after, so did the rest of the Braxton boys.
“Geez, Jonathan. She’s got you whipped already,” Josh said, moving his hand like he was cracking a whip.
“Excuse me?” Beth said as she entered the room. Her hand was on her swollen stomach. Josh and Beth eloped a few months ago and were already expecting a baby.
Jonathan was the only one who wanted a big to-do for his wedding. Which Jackson was thankful for. One trip down was all he could handle.
Jackson laughed, patting his brothers’ shoulders. “Sorry guys, sounds like the only one here who’s not whipped is me.” Jackson plopped down on the couch and brought his feet up onto the coffee table.
“Excuse me?” Sondra asked, reaching over to swat at his feet.
Jackson’s brothers let out a low laugh.
“You just wait,” James said as Layla emerged from the kitchen with a cookie in hand. She made her way over to James, who’d sat on the recliner, and settled down on his lap. James’s hand rested protectively on her stomach, and Jackson couldn’t help but see how happy his brother was.
Whatever Layla was doing for James’s PTSD, it was working. Jackson had never seen his brother so calm and at ease.
“Where’ve you been all day, little brother?” Josh asked as he plopped down next to Jackson.
Jackson glanced over as Isabel rushed into his mind. The thought of her alone in her empty house pulled at his emotions. He hated that she was by herself, and he wondered where her dad had gone and where her fiancé was. If it were him, he’d never leave her alone like that.
He’d done it once. He knew what it was like.
“Hello?” Josh asked, snapping his fingers in front of Jackson’s face.
Jackson blinked a few times, forcing himself back to reality. “Sorry. I, um, was helping out a friend.”
Sondra snorted. “By ‘friend’ he means Isabel Andrews.”
Everyone let out an obnoxious �
��Ooo.”
Jackson hated how his skin heated. “It wasn’t like that. She needed help, so I helped.”
Dean had wandered into the room, and Jackson shot him a desperate look. “Right, Dean?”
Dean glanced around at them and then back to Jackson. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Jackson’s reunion with Isabel,” Tiffany offered as she settled down in front of Jonathan, draping her arm over his knee.
“His what?” Dean asked, looking completely confused.
“Jackson and Isabel?” Tiffany tried again.
It took a moment before Dean nodded. “Oh, that. Right. Yeah, he was making goo-goo eyes at her the whole time.”
The room erupted in laughter, and Jackson shot Dean a menacing look. “What?” he shouted, probably a bit too loud. The entire room burst out laughing again.
Frustrated, Jackson stood. He was trying to forget Isabel, and having his entire family thinking there was something going on between the two of them wasn’t helping.
“I invited her to dinner tomorrow,” Sondra offered.
Everyone’s eyes were on Jackson. Hoping to play it cool, he shrugged. “I doubt she’ll come.”
“She should,” Tiffany piped up. “She’d been holed up in that house by herself for too long. And her fiancé? He’s gone more than he’s here.”
Jackson glanced at Tiffany. Her statement left him with so many questions. And maybe a tiny bit of hope. Which was ridiculous—Isabel had moved on, and so had he.
“Where’s her dad?” he asked, hoping he came across as nonchalant.
Sondra appeared in front of him. “She didn’t tell you?”
Jackson furrowed his brow. “Tell me what?”
Sondra took a sip of tea from the mug she was holding. “He’s in a home right now. He fell a few months ago and broke his hip. He has Alzheimer's, and Isabel’s been trying to get him home, but she can’t afford the modifications to the house that she needs for him to be able to get around. Let alone the nursing help she’d need when she’s gone at work.”
Jackson furrowed his brow as his mom’s words sunk in.
“Apparently, she wants to stay here with her father, but the fiancé wants to move. Poor Isabel is stuck between the two of them,” Sondra said, taking another sip.
Her Ex: The Braxton Brothers Series Page 4