Jackson

by Melissa Foster

  “Mm. Mocha. Thank you.”

  “Happy birthday.”

  She closed her eyes for a beat as he pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts.

  “Thank you. God, Jackson. How am I thirty already? It feels like just yesterday you and I were going to concerts and heading to the beach over spring break. Where did the time go?”

  He shrugged and took a sip of her coffee, then handed it back. “I think you’ve had a pretty damn good life, and there’s no hotter thirty-year-old on the planet, so you’ve got that covered.”

  He was being kind. He photographed gorgeous models and actresses every day. She didn’t come close to any of them, but she knew what he saw in her wasn’t just what he saw in those women. He knew her in a way he would never bother to know the women he casually dated, just as she knew him. It was that twining together of their looks, hearts, and souls despite their faults that made them each more beautiful to the other. She had no doubt that if she were disfigured in a nasty accident, Jackson’s love for her wouldn’t change.

  “Now, get that fine ass of yours out of bed so we can get on the road. I went by your place and picked up your bags. The truck’s packed, and we’re rolling out of here in forty minutes, naked or not.” He flashed a flirty grin that made her want to pull him right back into bed, which was why she headed for the shower instead.

  They’d always kept keys to each other’s places. It was easier than what they’d done as kids—climbing through each other’s windows in the middle of the night. She felt his eyes on her as she walked naked to the bathroom. She was never self-conscious around Jackson the way she was around the guys she dated, but she didn’t want to analyze that too much. They had a great friendship, and the sex was hot every single time. Jackson never demanded anything of her, not a commitment, not details on her life with the guys she dated, not a damn thing, and she liked it that way.

  She turned before closing the bathroom door and asked, “What time is it?”

  “Eight.” He rose to his feet and headed out of the room.

  “How long have you been up?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t sleep much.” He pointed to her clothes from last night, neatly folded on the dresser. “Those are clean.”

  He left the room, and before she stepped under the warm shower spray, she noticed the way the bathroom fixtures sparkled and thought about how he must have been up all night. He cleaned the way she slept—to escape the things in life she couldn’t control or didn’t want to deal with.

  After showering, she dried her hair using the hair dryer he kept for her beneath his sink, dressed, and went in search of Jackson to try to clear the air. Although she had no idea how to explain what was really going on, because it confused the hell out of her.

  Jackson’s living room was furnished sparsely, which she knew was for the sake of his mother, who was blind. He didn’t like clutter anyway, and after his mother lost her eyesight, he had a reason to keep his place even tidier than normal. Laney knew that the guilt of not being there to save his father or protect his mother ate away at Jackson. He’d always been good to his mother. It was just one of the many things she admired about him, but ever since his father was killed, he’d become even more focused on making sure his mother was treated like gold. To anyone else, Jackson keeping his house in order would be a small thing, maybe not even noticeable. But Laney noticed, because she knew that if Jackson’s mother would let him, he’d have moved her in with him and put his personal life aside to care for her. Jackson didn’t like to talk about his parents or that awful night that had changed his family’s lives forever, but with Laney, talking had never been necessary. She knew…

  She followed the hardwood to the kitchen and stopped cold. Roses were scattered over the floor, along the counter, and their petals had been stepped on. The box of chocolates Bryce had given her was hanging halfway in the sink, and Jackson was casually leaning his hip on the counter, his legs crossed at the ankle, as if he had all day long to wait for an explanation.

  She shoved her hands in the pockets of her cutoffs and lifted her shoulders. “Sorry.” As she bent to pick up the flowers, her stomach knotted. The fact that he hadn’t cleaned up the mess spoke louder than his silence.

  Jackson knelt beside her. “Ready?”

  She knew he meant to talk, and she shook her head as they both gathered the roses.

  “Ouch!” She shook her finger and sank down to her butt. Jackson took her hand in his and reached for a napkin. He wrapped it around the bead of blood where the thorn had pricked her finger and turned a warm gaze to her.

  “How long are we going to play this game? Roses and chocolates? Am I supposed to guess? Because it looks like a great birthday to me.”

  “It was…until he proposed,” she spat, the anger from last night bubbling to the surface. “The fucker.”

  Jackson’s jaw dropped open, and just as quickly he shifted his eyes away and scrubbed his hand down his face. He set the roses on the counter and reached for her hand to help her up. “That bastard. Roses, chocolates, and a promise of marriage.” Every word dripped with sarcasm, but she could tell by the tightness of his jaw that he wasn’t loving the idea any more than she was.

  “I never even committed to being monogamous. Why would he think I’d commit to marriage?” She grabbed the box of chocolates and the flowers and shoved them in the trash can. “Asshole.”

  “You’ve been seeing him for nine months, Laney. The guy’s solid, right? Or is there something about Bryce I don’t know?” He took the bag out of the trash and tied it off, then grabbed his keys. “Come on. We’ll drop this on the way, and I’ll buy you a blueberry scone to devour while you explain to me about Satan the Proposal Dropper.”

  She didn’t want to talk about Bryce or his proposal. She wanted to disappear into Jackson and pretend like Bryce hadn’t opened a door she’d been ignoring successfully for years. Laney didn’t want to think about forever. She liked things just the way they were.

  On the way to the Silver Mountains in Sweetwater, New York, where she and Jackson went camping every year for her birthday, Laney could drag out the silence for only so long by eating the scone. Jackson kept shifting his eyes to her, waiting. He was so damn patient. Always so damn patient. But she knew he was still stewing just as badly as she was over the whole thing.

  She kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the dash. “I told him I needed a week to decide.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good. I think. What am I going to do, Jackson? I really like him. He’s a good guy. He’s fun and he’s stable. And he’s not a freak, which is half the battle when you’re dating.”

  Jackson cocked a brow and smiled. “Who are we to judge freaks?”

  “Just because we have sex without a relationship doesn’t make us freaks. Tons of people do that—and we do have a relationship. You’re my best friend. Who better to work off steam with?”

  “Laney, I love what we have, but other people might think it’s strange. Not everyone is into the things we are.”

  “Oh, come on!” Was he serious? The guy who went through women like addicts went through cocaine? He had no qualms about sharing his sexual escapades with her. How could he even pretend that what they did was edgy? “Tons of people get creative with sex. Anal, oral, silk ties—all that is totally normal. Don’t kid yourself. It’s not like we’re into nipple clamps and whips. And besides, we don’t even go the backdoor route with anyone else. It’s in our pact.” Her eyes widened. “Unless you—”

  “No! Christ, Laney. I’m not talking about those things.” He slid her an annoyed look, then turned his attention back to the highway and drove in silence. As he pulled off the exit toward the road that snaked up the mountain, he finally said, “What I meant was that not everyone would understand how we can date other people and still have sex with each other. I’d never put up with that shit if I had a serious girlfriend. Hell, what did Bryce think of our friends-with-benefits relationship? No man who
loves a woman would put up with it.”

  “Really? Well, he obviously loves me.” She grabbed her purse from the backseat and pulled out a black velvet jewelry box. Her fingers trembled as she remembered Bryce down on one knee in the middle of the restaurant, professing his love for her, and how the first thing that flashed in her mind was that if she married him, she’d have to give up her intimacy with Jackson. And Bryce didn’t even seem to care that she was going on this trip with Jackson, which was another thing that bothered her about the whole thing.

  She opened the box and shoved the gleaming diamond ring in front of Jackson. His eyes ran quickly over the ring, then widened as he took the box from her hands and inspected it more closely, his eyes darting from the ring to the road and back.

  “Holy fuck. That’s a huge rock.”

  “Two karats.” Why did she sound so proud? She didn’t even want it.

  “Why’d you bring it with you?” He closed the box and thrust it into her lap. “You still didn’t answer my question. What does he think of our arrangement?”

  She tucked the box into her backpack instead of her purse and shrugged.

  “Laney…” His eyes narrowed.

  “What? That’s the whole problem. Don’t you see? All he ever wants is for me to be happy. He knew we were going camping together, and he was like, ‘Great. Have fun.’ He’s supportive of my business, and he understands my late nights.” She sighed, thinking of how many times she’d canceled dates with Bryce because of late deadlines or meeting with editors at Wild Side, the trendy fashion magazine she owned.

  “So what’s the problem? Don’t all women want to be married?”

  She gave him a deadpan stare.

  “Fuck, Laney. How much more could you ask for?” Jackson gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He had never said disparaging things about the guys she dated, unless he was concerned for her welfare. He let her make her own mistakes and was there to protect her if she needed it—and he was always there to see her through good times and bad. Given how supportive he was being, she wondered if he knew what accepting the proposal really meant—an end to their intimacy.

  How much more could she ask for? That was the real problem. She couldn’t ask for what she really wanted, because he was sitting right beside her telling her to marry Bryce.

  “Laney, you’re telling me that Bryce has no issue with you sleeping with another guy?”

  “I told him ages ago that you and I sleep together and he said one day I wouldn’t need you anymore.”

  ***

  JACKSON LOOSENED HIS grip on the steering wheel and glanced at the tattoo of the key—Laney’s key to her heart—in his palm. He’d worried about this exact situation too many times over the years to pretend otherwise, but he’d never really thought it through. Each time his mind traveled there—which was usually when Laney was talking about how great the guy she was dating at the time was—he would simply push it away. And it was a simple thing to do. She’d always found her way back to his bed, no matter who she was dating. But now, with a proposal on the table—a proposal and a big fucking diamond ring—he could no longer pretend it wasn’t a reality.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew what Bryce had said was true, but when he’d told her that same thing in bed last night, he hadn’t thought that someday would be now.

  For the first time in forever, the silence between them thickened with discomfort. He had no right to be anything but supportive of Bryce and his proposal. He obviously wasn’t mistreating her, and she deserved a happy future with all the things most women wanted—children, a loving home, a stable husband—even if she claimed not to want those things. Deep down, he knew she did.

  She needed to make a decision free and clear of him, even though it might mean he’d have to give up sharing a bed with her. That didn’t mean his stomach wasn’t twisting into knots and his head wasn’t playing all sorts of tricks on him, making him want to tell her not to marry the guy. But he didn’t want to swap places with Bryce. He loved his single lifestyle, and even though he loved what he and Laney had together, to tell her not to marry anyone was unfair.

  He had no doubt in his mind that he was a selfish bastard, because the urge to tell her just that grew stronger with every passing second.

  They parked at the entrance to the trail and loaded up with their camping gear. The air was crisp and the sun was bright. Perfect weather for their hike up the mountain. Laney looked cute as hell in her cutoffs and hiking boots, carrying a backpack that looked like it weighed twice as much as she did and sporting a scowl that he knew would eventually wear off. At least he hoped it would. They hadn’t been in this particular situation before, and Jackson had no idea how to navigate this new terrain. But there was one thing he was certain of. No matter what her decision, she needed him right here, right now, and he had no plans to let her down.

  “Laney?”

  She didn’t respond, and he knew by the way her eyes were trained on the ground that she was lost in thought. She got like that sometimes, tied up in her own head and unaware of what was going on around her.

  He stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. When she gazed up at him with emotions warring in her eyes, it just about did him in. Seeing Laney sad or worried had always cut him to his core. When her parents had split up, she’d been livid, scared, and sad all at once, and come to think of it, she’d looked very similar to the way she looked now.

  “Listen, Laney.” He searched her eyes until they settled on him. “This is a big decision, and whatever you decide, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, and you’re not in this alone.”

  “Really?” she snapped. “Did he ask you to marry him, too?”

  He tried to stifle his smile, because really, adorable didn’t even begin to cover how she looked with her eyes blazing and a half smile, half smirk on her lips, spewing venom with every word.

  “In a sense, yes,” he said honestly, wondering why, if she wasn’t happy about the proposal, she didn’t just turn it down. But he wasn’t going to dip his toe in that pond. Laney had her reasons, and chances were, she wasn’t quite clear on what they were yet.

  She banged her forehead on his chest, then smiled up at him. “I’m not going to let this ruin our trip. I promise. We’ll have just as much fun as always.”

  He brushed a lock of her hair from where it had fallen in front of her eyes and held her gaze. “I’m not worried about having fun, but I am worried about you.”

  Chapter Three

  WHILE JACKSON SET up the tent, Laney gathered wood for the fires they’d need in the evenings to keep warm. They’d been camping together for so many years that they had a system down pat. She remembered the first time they’d gone camping together. Jackson had been camping a zillion times with his family, but it had been her first time, and she hadn’t really known what to expect. Jackson had been patient with her and was careful to ensure she didn’t do anything that might cause her to be injured. As she’d learned, he’d loosened up, hovering less over her every step and treating her more like an equal than the naive girl who hadn’t known the difference between a square knot and a timber hitch. She smiled with the memory of lying naked in their tent as Jackson taught her how to master knots while they took turns tying each other up, then teasing and taunting until they were both begging for more.

  She carried the wood she’d gathered back to the campsite, where she found Jackson putting their gear in the tent.

  “Good job. Did you have any trouble?” he asked as he helped her stack the wood by the area he’d cleaned out for their fires. How he managed to get so much done while she was gathering wood used to baffle her, but she’d come to accept that Jackson was simply good at everything he did.

  “Nope. No bears, snakes, or strange backwoods freaks anywhere in sight.”

  “Well, then, I guess we’re safe.” His lips quirked up. “For now.”

  He handed her a fishing pole, then ducked into
the tent and came back out with his camera around his neck and the tackle box she’d bought him for his twenty-second birthday.

  “Usually you wait for the sun to go down before you start giving me a hard time about things lurking in the woods,” Laney teased as he reached for her hand.

  “I figured that with your confused state of mind, you needed a reminder.” He led her away from the camp and assumedly toward the lake. She wondered how he always knew exactly where to go without a compass or anything else to guide him, especially since they never seemed to camp in the same spot twice.

  She needed to distract herself from the whole proposal situation and decided to catch up on his family, whom she loved. His parents had accepted her into their family so warmly from the moment they’d met. Even after his mother had caught them in bed together, she’d still allowed her to spend the night on those occasions when she’d been too sad or angry to face her mother, whom she’d lived with after her parents’ divorce. Her only stipulation was that Laney sleep in the sleeping bag on the floor. As if Laney would ever have sex with his brother in the room. They slept in bunk beds, for God’s sake. The afternoon his mother had caught them in bed together, while his brothers were at school and she was supposed to be out for the afternoon, they’d even had the bedroom door closed, even though they were alone in the house. She hadn’t seemed to mind that they’d skipped school, or at least the sex part had overshadowed that part. She hadn’t gotten angry as much as she’d been worried. She’d asked a lot of questions, which seemed to have more to do with whether they’d practiced safe sex and whether Laney was emotionally okay than with being angry about the actual sexual act. Poor Jackson had been mortified, whereas Laney had been so shocked and frightened about his mother calling her parents and her father finding out that, to this day, she wasn’t sure what her responses had been to any of his mother’s questions. For whatever reason—and Laney wasn’t about to ask for them—his mother never had told her parents, and from that moment on Jackson and Laney had been more careful where they had sex.