Jackson's Love (Lake Hope Book 3)

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Jackson's Love (Lake Hope Book 3) Page 14

by Mel Walker


  The sparkle in her eyes gives me permission to laugh out loud. “Believe it or not, it’s kinder than my original thoughts. But I didn’t want anyone calling the sheriff. Not just yet.”

  She leans in and I nibble on her ear lobe. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I can think of a few things. We don’t have to stay to the end, do we?” I plead.

  The responsible version of Dana is battling the desires of a woman who wants what I want. She has two dozen attendees, six barely-legal college students, an ex, and a sunrise yoga workshop in the morning to manage. Yet she is considering it. I push the envelope.

  “We’ll swing back through in a couple of hours to check in on everyone, promise?” I bat my eyes at her as a giggle escapes her lips.

  “You are a bad influence on me.”

  “Because I like to see you actually enjoy yourself once in a while?”

  She squeezes my hand. “No, because you are learning too quickly all my weak points.”

  “What you call weak, I call balance. You put so much pressure to be perfect and responsible that I need to counterbalance.”

  “Your room?” she whispers, the sound so seductive and filled with hope that I almost scrap all my plans.

  “I see someone can’t wait to get to the room. Nice to hear, sunshine.” I pull her close as my arm wraps around her shoulders. “Not yet. I have something else in mind for now.”

  The sparkle in her eyes is a reward I want to earn over and over. “What is it?”

  I slip my hand into hers as we turn from the concert. “Do you trust me?”

  Her feet slow their pace as she whispers, “I’m learning to…”

  Three words shift the mood, and the air around us fills with electricity. I nod. I’ve made missteps and she is still here.

  It’s time to have a heart-to-heart.

  Twenty minutes later we are floating on a silent, dark lake in a small rowboat. Dana is sitting on a flannel plaid blanket and I pull in the oars. I climb over the middle seat bench and lie next to her. I place the lantern on the bench seat, the small light allowing me to take in her beauty and to alert to anyone else stupid enough to row on a pitch-black lake at this hour. “Alone at last,” I say as she snuggles into my arm. She fits perfectly, of course. The silence on the lake is a welcome reprieve after days surrounded by dozens of people.

  “This is so relaxing, thank you. It’s like you know what my body and soul needs before I do.”

  Her words are powerful. Most things in my life come with lots of effort, focus, and energy, but when it comes to Dana, everything seems so natural. The path as clear as anything I’ve ever experienced. “Is that all your body needs right now?”

  She surprises me when she doesn’t deflect. Her hand rises to the back of my neck, the slight pressure pulling me forward, our lips meeting. The kiss is as powerful as the woman behind it. Strong, focused, and filled with an undeniable passion.

  Our lips separate, and her hand continues to pull on my neck, locking me in place. Our heated breath mixes as she huffs out softly, “We have a lot to figure out between us, Jackson. As you know, I’ve been conflicted.” She releases my neck and sits back in order for me to read her face. Her bright eyes in the darkness are easier to read than her hidden facial features.

  “Obviously I’m attracted to you, Jackson. Have been for months.” I wait for the counter, realizing that even in the pursuit of happiness, there is a counterbalance. “I’ve been focused on my business. Which is what I’ve always told myself why I couldn’t get involved. But that wasn’t the full truth.”

  I nod, not wanting to interrupt her.

  “The truth is I didn’t feel it would be right for me to start a relationship if I couldn’t share my past with my partner. I wasn’t ready to deal with my past myself.”

  “You talking about Tyrone? You shared that with Mia and Candice some time ago.”

  She shakes her head. “Not the same. The girls are amazing. Once I connected with them, I knew I could trust them. But they’re still only friends. They all have histories too. But telling your partner is a different step. And besides, it’s a lot more than just Tyrone. It’s my complete history. I didn’t grow up in the land of sunshine and rainbows.”

  “Sunshine? What’s that? Remember, I’m from Seattle.”

  Her eyes smile. “I think you know what I mean.”

  I lean forward and gingerly place a kiss on her lips, the tingle making me want to do so much more. “I know. I have a past as well, Dana.” My body tenses up as I take a deep breath. She senses my concern and strokes the back of my neck.

  “It’s okay, Zach.”

  The mention of my name causes my gaze to lower from her eyes to her bright white teeth. She thinks she knows, but it’s so much more. “Zach is only the tip of the iceberg.” I push up and stick my forearm toward the lantern light. “Have you noticed my tats? I mean really looked at them?”

  She leans in, her arms wrapping around her raised knees as she looks forward. “And you want me to examine them now in the darkness of a lake?”

  I snicker. She’s right—she doesn’t need to see them to know. I lean back, stretching out next to her once again. “You’re right, of course. Let’s just say the calm, cool, collected version of me isn’t the only version. When I was younger, I rebelled. My dad is a lawyer. He had this master plan for me. Political science or history major, law school, and then associate at his law firm. My plan consisted of skateboarding, smoking weed, and getting tats with my friends.

  “I left a trail of shattered dreams and promises through those years. I had no idea what I was chasing, but it didn’t stop me from moving at a hundred miles an hour breaking everything in my path.”

  “Broken glass,” she whispers.

  My pulse races. She has noticed my tats. She gets it. I nod.

  “By the time I had gotten my head out my ass, my parents had nearly given up on me. One final concession by Mom changed my life. She got Dad to turn over the remainder of my college fund for culinary school. He only agreed to it if I took out loans for school under my name. If I dropped out, the bills were on me, but if the screwup known as his son somehow managed to graduate, he’d pay off the loans.”

  “And you rocked it obviously. So, you took a little while to find yourself. We all do,” Dana says, showing her gentle soul. I’m sure her life story is consistent, unlike mine.

  “Yeah, after the first year, I received a full scholarship.”

  “See, it was your calling.” Her optimism is misplaced; I reach for the bucket of water to put it out.

  “I kept that bit of news from my parents, Dana.”

  “Oh.” She wraps her arms tighter around her legs, her shoulders slumping further. It pains me to see this reaction, but I need to show her that I’m far from perfect.

  “I had them believing I was buried in loans. By the time I graduated, I had quite a little nest egg.” I pause, waiting for the judgment that never comes. What kind of monster swindles money from his parents? “I used the funds to polish my skills, travel to cooking competitions, and quickly build up a reputation. That went on for a few years.” I force myself to continue.

  Here. Now.

  I remove another brick from my wall. “Then I met Lola.”

  I expect Dana to recoil, to pull back, but she doesn’t do any of this. She slowly strokes my cheek. Like I said, a gentle soul. “I was wondering when you’d tell me.”

  Her reaction puzzles me. I had withheld this news, afraid it would stop our growing relationship in its tracks. That had been my history. Friends were more than happy to party along in good times, but when rough times came, they disappeared.

  Instead, she rolls onto my chest and places a tender kiss. Slowly, she lifts her head, her tender eyes imploring me to continue in my own time. She’s not going to run away. She wants to see all of me.

  “My version of Tyrone.” I push out a snicker to buy myself time, not sure where to begin. “It started so well. She cam
e from money, three or four levels above my station in life. But for some reason, she saw all the possibilities in me which I had always doubted. I knew in order to run in those circles, I couldn’t show weakness. I needed to be as arrogant and confident as the one percent. So, I become Chef Zach, this badass with tats, attitude, and thankfully great cooking skills.”

  “Sounds sexy,” she jokes. It misses the mark and I know where this story heads.

  “Lola thought so. We became serious. I even named my first restaurant after her.” This news does cause a reaction. The conflict in her eyes is apparent even in this dim light. A million question must race through her mind.

  “So you guys…”

  “No,” I answer, not wanting her to have to form the words. “We never were married or even engaged. I ruined all of that.”

  “Why? How? I had assumed…”

  Once again, I stop her from believing that I am a good guy. “She was a lot, but I knew that going in. I fed into it. I changed nearly everything about me to satisfy her. That’s on me, not her. When my sole focus shifted to the restaurant, I lost her. I was an ass.”

  “And that’s why you came to Destiny Falls? To get away from those memories?”

  The conversation is at a crossroads. Dana is taking in everything I’m revealing a million times better than I could’ve expected, yet a piece of me tells me to take the easy way out. I don’t want the way she looks at me, the way she thinks about me, to change. Especially not tonight. We will share a bed tonight; the last thing I want to do is place images in her head that will have us both up all night.

  I decide to split the difference. “That and the fact that after Lola my focus wasn’t where it should’ve been. I had become all consumed, agitated, short-tempered. There was a major dustup in the restaurant. I got sued by multiple people as a result. The settlement cost me the restaurant.”

  Her warm hand returns to my cheek as she strokes it once again. “I’m so sorry. Losing everything, picking yourself up, and finding a safe place to start over again is hard, I get it. Look at us. Two peas in a pod.” She leans up and places another soft kiss on my lips. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Jackson. Our pasts may not be who we are today, but it is important because it helps to shape and guide us. It influences our tomorrows”

  I stare up to at the half moon in the star-filled sky. I thank the heavens for sending Dana in my direction. She is more than I deserve. I say a quick prayer and promise to tell her the complete unadulterated version at the end of the week.

  A bright light catches the corner of my eye, and I turn. Dana pushes up to see what I’m looking at. Out in the distance, the eight-foot makeshift outdoor screen is lit up like a Christmas tree. We can’t see the screen from here, but the sound of Looney Tunes floats across the water.

  “I guess Sydney’s performance is over. I still can’t believe she decided to show cartoons to adults,” I whisper, confounded by the mind of a nineteen-year-old woman.

  It’s almost as if Dana is reading my mind. “Yeah, as much as we think we are grown, sometimes all we want is to sit around a fire making s’mores with friends and watch cartoons. I should’ve invited my sister here.”

  “You have a younger sister?”

  Her smile lights up the boat as she pats the blanket. “Lie back down. This one is going to take a while.”

  The laughter of the girls watching the movie floats out to us on the boat. I grab one of the life jackets and stick it under my head as a pillow. “Looks like we have all night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dana

  The vibration of my phone comes way too soon. I snuggle into the crook of Jackson’s arm like a puppy wishing to steal away a few more moments.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” His kiss on the top of my forehead forces me to open my eyes. I look up and yawn as he stretches out his arms. “The alarm just went off. We’ve got to get moving.”

  I shake my head side to side like a four-year-old. “Just five more minutes. I don’t want to move from this spot.” I lay my head back on his chest, and his warm arm wraps around me once again.

  “Three,” he states. “I have to get breakfast started. We have a few extra mouths to feed this morning.”

  I know he’s talking about Sydney and her friends, but my mind immediately jumps to Tyrone. Last evening, he was still skulking around the lodge when we returned from the boat trip. Just about everyone else had either gone to bed or at least retired to their rooms, but not Tyrone. It was as if he was waiting for me.

  I recall the anger in his eyes when he spotted Jackson’s arms around my shoulder as we entered the lodge. He didn’t say a word. His look, however, spoke volumes. I felt his stare on the back of my head every step of the way to Jackson’s room. Jackson was oblivious as he chatted about a recipe he was dying to try out. Shortly after entering Jackson’s room, I heard a loud door slam and knew where it came from.

  I thought it might distract from the rest of our evening, but it didn’t. Once we were safely back in the room, we took our time with each other. The slow, mellow mood we had established on the boat where we opened emotionally melding perfectly into us opening physically.

  Our connection was all the things I had expected and so much more. Tender, slow, caring, and filled with passion. It was nearly 4:00 a.m. by the time we finally drifted off to sleep.

  I take a long inhale, happiness and contentment filling my relaxed body. The scent of our lovemaking filling my nostrils.

  “How’s your hand?” I ask as he holds up his arm. He had unwrapped it before bed, coated it with Vaseline, and let it air out overnight.

  He flexes his hand, tapping the palm lightly at first. “Much better, which is good. I think the dinner service may have burned out poor Aaron. I should be good to go.” He points down toward my mitt.

  I had rewrapped mine lightly before bed. I mimic his motion. “Almost ready for my next match.” I only feel a slight radiating pain, nothing like the sharp pain from before.

  “Well, how about this?” Jackson pushes up, his back against the headboard. “Once we’re both one hundred percent, we repeat what we did last night but try something that require both of us to have to working hands.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Challenge accepted,” I giggle and my mind races to keep up.

  My body must be getting used to limited sleep as I don’t feel decimated. Quite the opposite.

  “You’re lucky I’m a fast healer,” I joke. I bounce up and place a quick kiss on his lips. “I call shower first.”

  I race to the bathroom, and he’s two steps too slow.

  “Don’t be long, or your guests are going to have to get by with instant oatmeal,” he states and I shut the bathroom door, but not before hearing him whisper to himself, Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

  Thankfully the morning zips by quickly, yet the rhythm of the lodge appears off. I’m not sure if it’s the bundle of energy known as Sydney or the looming presence of Tyrone.

  Sydney and her cohorts turned the breakfast hour into a comedy show. Their jokes were loud as they sampled every dish from the kitchen. While their presence was warming, Tyrone took the opposite approach. He came down to breakfast brooding, grabbing a plate of food and disappearing back to his room. I wasn’t disappointed by him hiding out, but he did leave a dark presence.

  Although Jackson has been a trooper in not confronting Ty, I know it weighs on him because he is standing in the lobby at ten twenty-nine looking out at the road. FedEx usually delivers at ten thirty.

  The sunrise yoga session has completed, and the girls are relaxing before the next session at eleven. I step next to Jackson. “What’s that they say about a watched pot?”

  We bump shoulders—I find myself taking every opportunity to steal a touch from this man. Speaking about Ebony and my history last evening with Jackson brought our relationship to another level. Hearing about his ex and how he named his restaurant after her may have stung, but at least she’s not staying at the lodge
trying to lay claim to him. It’s as if yesterday has removed all barriers between us. All that remains is us. My heart is already racing ahead to the good parts of our relationship. We can’t let our pasts get in the way of our future.

  “How are you feeling?” He looks at me and must see the anxiety that I feel in my bones.

  “I’ll be glad when this is over?” I blow out a breath which does little to release my tension.

  His eyes sparkle as he stares at me. “When this is all over, we should get away. I know a place… sits right on a beautiful lake…”

  I cross my arms and bounce from one foot to the other. “You got jokes. Keep it up and I’ll take you back out on the lake, but only one of us will find their way back.” I spot the familiar white truck in the distance. “Finally.”

  “I hope he’s packed,” Jackson whispers in my direction as he holds the door open, and we practically skip down the steps.

  “Now, now. Play nice.” The van pulls up to the front steps as the driver opens his door. He nods in our direction and walks to the back of the truck.

  When he returns, he’s carrying two medium-sized boxes and a few envelopes. Jackson takes the packages and I sign. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.” I wave and hand him a package of muffins leftover from breakfast—a quick ritual that we’ve fallen into this week.

  I wave again as the truck turns and heads back up the road. Jackson has placed the two boxes on the ground and is flipping through the envelopes like they’re playing cards.

  “Dana, we have a problem. There isn’t a package here for Tyrone.”

  “That can’t be possible. Look again.” I step toward him as he flips through the envelopes again. “Maybe he addressed it to the lodge or maybe Mrs. Shaw.”

  “Don’t you think I would have thought of that?” He holds up an envelope to the sun. “These are all just documents. No keys.”

  “Maybe they missed the morning cutoff and it’ll be coming this afternoon?” I didn’t even believe the words, so I knew Jackson wouldn’t.

 

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