Jackson

by Melissa Foster

  “Well?” she challenged, eyes narrow, arms trembling as she crossed them tightly. Then her gaze softened and she dropped her eyes to his chest. “That’s all you’ve got? You tell me I should marry him and then you clam up?”

  His voice was somewhere between his lungs and his throat, but it was loud and clear in his fucked-up mind.

  Don’t marry him, Laney. Don’t ruin us.

  She raised her eyes to his, and the sadness in them shattered the silence.

  “What are you afraid of, Jackson? Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  Love me, Laney.

  He couldn’t force the words from his lungs. She deserved a guy who would give her everything. He wanted to be that guy. Desperately. But he’d never been faithful to a woman in his life. He’d always had Laney. What if he only had Laney? Could he be with only Laney?

  Despite his love for her, he didn’t know. He just didn’t fucking know, and she deserved to know exactly what she was getting.

  Bryce was safe.

  Jackson wanted her to be safe.

  Fuck…He turned away, unable to untangle the desire to be her world from his inability to know if he could give up his own.

  “That’s what I thought.” She sounded defeated, and it drove the stake deeper into his heart.

  He heard her walk back into the water, leaving him to drown in his own indecision.

  Chapter Seven

  “IT’S GONNA RAIN.” Jackson stood with one booted foot on the edge of the cliff, his knee slightly bent, his weight on his back leg. His black cotton shirt pulled across his biceps as he held the camera to his eye, aiming across the ravine.

  Laney wasn’t looking at the ravine; she was drinking in his perfect ass and the fabric straining across his thick thighs. Maybe it made Laney superficial that she loved Jackson’s body the way some women worshipped shoes or purses. She’d never get enough of looking at him, from the perfect vee of his lats to the tiny little muscle in his jaw that jumped when he was concentrating.

  She shielded her eyes from the sun, which had gotten hotter as the afternoon had progressed—or maybe she was still hot under the collar from their spat at the lake. She couldn’t be sure which. She smiled to herself as she thought, Or maybe I’m getting hotter just drooling over my best friend.

  He turned slowly, aiming the camera down at her. She flattened her hand over her face.

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  “Too late.” He lowered the camera, and she stuck her tongue out. “Careful, now. You know how much I love it when you’re cantankerous.” Ever since their argument down by the lake, she’d felt Jackson distancing himself from her. She noticed it in his quick retreats when they stood close and in the way he looked at her—like he was trying not to see her—and it was making her uncomfortable and nervous.

  “Ugh. That’s when I’m at my ugliest.” She reached for his hand, and he helped her up. With the camera hanging around his neck between them, he lifted her chin with his index finger and gazed into her eyes.

  “No, Laney. You’re at your ugliest when you’re pretending to be someone you’re not. Being who you are makes you even prettier.” He turned away so fast she didn’t have time to think. “You sure you want to chance the rest of the hike? It’s definitely going to rain. The air is heavy, the sun’s blazing the way it does before a storm, and check out the clouds behind us.”

  She turned and gazed at the graying sky. “That’ll take forever to get here. I think we can keep going for a while. Besides, otherwise we’re stuck sitting at the campsite, and I’m too rattled to sit still.” She glared up at him with a smirk. “And don’t tell me that you can think of something that requires me to move.” It never mattered how much they bickered, their minds always traveled back to the two of them. Together. Making out. Fucking. Making love? Goddamn it. She knew it always would.

  He laughed. “I wasn’t going to.” He walked a few feet toward the woods, then added, “At least not out loud.”

  They hiked up the steep mountain, stopping every now and again for Jackson to take pictures. She knew he’d have hundreds of amazing photographs by the time they went home. He made online albums and shared them with her and his family, often adding captions like, Laney picking her nose, when he caught her midsneeze, because he was obnoxious like that. With that thought, her mind turned to the album he’d made for her birthday. The pit of her stomach dipped as she realized that he hadn’t taken any pictures of the two of them on this trip. Not one. He always pulled her into a dozen photos taken at arm’s length.

  His pulling away wasn’t just in her head.

  She tried not to focus on that depressing thought—after all, what had she thought would happen? That she could spring Bryce’s marriage proposal on him like Bryce had on her and not throw him completely off-balance?

  She trained her eyes on the ground. There were no paths in the wilderness, just like there were no paths in life. Every time they came out to the mountains, they were covering new ground. That’s what the proposal was, too. New ground.

  Jackson’s powerful back muscles bunched as he moved branches out of the way and reached back to help Laney over fallen trees. She knew she was fooling herself. This forest was hardly new ground to them. They might be covering unfamiliar territory, but they knew the mountain. Their footing was solid. The foundation they traveled upon was familiar, and completely different from the emotional terrain she was stumbling through with Bryce.

  “When did you make the album for my birthday? That must have taken forever to get all the old pictures together.” She wanted to know what he’d felt when he was looking at the old pictures—before he knew about the proposal from Bryce.

  I should just turn Bryce down. He’s not the man I want.

  “Not too long,” he said, holding back prickly branches for her to pass through the thick pine trees. “A few weeks of digging through my mom’s attic. It was fun seeing all the pictures of us when we were young and stupid.”

  Bryce is stable, a few years older, smart. If she couldn’t have Jackson, he wasn’t a bad choice.

  “Were?” He’d always been her rock, her guiding light in the darkest moments. His reassurances were what had gotten her through her parents’ divorce, and when his father had died, he’d reassured her then, too, when she should have been his rock.

  “We’ve gotten a little smarter, which reminds me—what’s happening with the Zac Posen interview?” He stepped over a big rock and held out a hand to help her. “Careful.”

  Bryce doesn’t know the first thing about hiking or the outdoors. She didn’t like the way her mind kept comparing the two men, but how could she not?

  She climbed over the rock, and as soon as she was safely on the other side, he released her hand. She stifled a frustrated exhalation and focused on answering his question. “His people are talking to my people.”

  He smiled at that. They both hated when people spoke of their “people,” but even that didn’t bring his focus back to her in the way she’d hoped.

  “I told you that Heath would hook you up with Josh Braden.” Josh was a world-renowned designer whose family lived in Weston, Colorado, where Jackson’s mother had grown up. At his father’s suggestion, Jackson and his brothers had spent a few weeks every summer on the Braden ranch building character and learning the value of hard work. It must have worked, because each of the Wild men were excellent outdoorsmen, and they were loyal, honest men, who took their careers, and their family, seriously.

  Bryce thinks my career is interesting when he talks about it with others, like he’s proud of what I do. But he rarely takes interest in my day-to-day accomplishments or troubles.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I want to do this on my own. I know Josh Braden would be a killer interview, but still.” Jackson had guided her and had helped her find her footing when she’d first started her magazine, but she was proud of securing interviews with the elite fashion moguls of the world on her own, primarily with her own rele
ntless marketing and the superior reputation she’d gained. In truth, Zac Posen’s staff had been dicking her around for weeks. But she wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet.

  He held an arm out, stopping her from walking past, and pointed down at a snake slithering over a rock. Once it disappeared into the underbrush, he tugged her a few feet in the other direction, giving the snake a wide berth.

  “You’ll nail Posen. You always get what you want.”

  For the first time ever she thought he was lying. This time she wouldn’t get what she wanted. As they trudged up the mountain, she stewed over his tone. She could usually read him so easily, but after the morning they’d had, she couldn’t tell if he’d said that she always got what she wanted as a barb or as a compliment. Could he think that she’d wanted Bryce to propose? Had she wanted him to?

  A future with Bryce would be stable. He would never cheat, and he doesn’t seem to lie about anything. Life with him would be easy. They’d wake at six, kiss goodbye at seven, meet for dinner at seven, and go to bed by ten. Sex three times a week—missionary, but it still felt good. Wash, rinse, repeat—forever.

  God…

  She was still mulling that thought over when they came to the end of the thickly forested area. Without the cover of the trees, they had a clear view of the dark, menacing sky. That’s fitting. The land fell away to the right in a steep slope of tall grass and shrubs, with patches of trees dotting the landscape. It would have been a beautiful scene, had it been a sunny afternoon, but with the deep blues and grays hovering above them and moisture thickening the air, it looked like she felt. Confused and angry.

  Bryce is the epitome of stable.

  Safe.

  Boring.

  She’d felt a tug of longing when both Logan and Heath had fallen in love. Who wouldn’t? The Wild men knew how to love their women. Not to mention that if Logan—a guy who had erected concrete walls around his heart—could fall in love and commit to one woman, then surely Jackson could.

  “Oh shit.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with her slip.

  “You can say that again,” he said, looking up at the sky.

  Thank God that’s what he thought she was referring to, because the oh shit had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the realization that she might have been hoping for commitment after all—but it sure as hell wasn’t from Bryce.

  Jackson is rugged, edgy, and exciting.

  So damn exciting he made her heart race, even now as he settled one hand on his hip and checked his watch. She knew he’d exhale, then run a hand through his hair, a different type of predictable than Bryce. Jackson’s mannerisms might be familiar, but he wasn’t at all predictable when it came to intimacy and moods. He could be hot or cold in minutes.

  But he always took care of her.

  So does Bryce.

  “We’ve been out for a few hours. There’s a good chance we’re going to get stuck in a bad storm.” Thunder rumbled across the sky in the not-so-far distance.

  “If we hurry back maybe we can beat it,” she suggested. The worried look in Jackson’s eyes told her he didn’t think that was a possibility.

  A raindrop landed on the tip of his nose. He swiped at it with his hand. “Come on. This one’s going to hit fast.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her down the slope. Her feet slipped along the grass and dirt. He swept an arm around her waist and pressed her body to his, taking the weight of each step.

  Thunder roared closer, and they moved as quickly as they could down the hill.

  “Lightning will hit the tallest thing around. If we can get back down to the ravine, we can take shelter beneath the ledge.”

  “I don’t see lightn—” As the word left her mouth, thunder roared, followed by the sharp snap and crack of lightning. She yelped and clung to Jackson. “Hurry!”

  Sprinkles turned to a steady stream of rain. Jackson did his best to tuck her beneath his arm, but when the streaming rain turned to sheets, there was no escaping their fate. They were drenched in seconds.

  “Where’s the ravine?” The rain was coming down so hard, and the slope was so steep, that she couldn’t get her bearings.

  Jackson obviously had a plan, because he was guiding them across the meadow toward a gully, which looked more like a river of dirt because of the water rushing down the center. Jackson always has a plan. She clung to his drenched shirt, yelping as lightning split the sky again.

  ***

  LANEY’S SHRIEK PULLED Jackson from his thoughts. He’d been so focused on what was waiting for Laney back home that he’d been on autopilot since the second they’d set out on the hike. He stopped walking and pulled her against his chest. She was shivering. Her skin was covered in goose bumps.

  “Scared?” He couldn’t resist comforting her and kissed the top of her head, holding her just long enough for her to shake her head. Laney was the bravest woman he knew, but with all the shit going on in her life right now, he knew her defenses were weakened. With one arm tightly around her waist, so she could feel him against her and soak in his strength as her own as she had so often done, he tipped her chin up and gazed reassuringly into her eyes.

  “I’ve got this. You’re fine, okay? I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Her teeth chattered as she nodded, her fingernails still digging into his sides.

  Without another word, he led them down the rocky slope, doing his best to keep them both from slipping on the mud and dirt. They were too far from the ravine to do them any good, but standing in the woods or at the top of the mountain would have been the kiss of death if lightning turned in their direction. They needed to get to low-lying land and become the lowest object. Lightning sliced through the sky in the distance, kicking him into high gear.

  Some ungodly amount of time later, they followed the gully down the side of the mountain to the ridge he’d seen on their way up. He pulled his backpack off one shoulder and withdrew the rope he’d brought with the hopes of looping it over a branch and fashioning a swing over the water for Laney. Plans change.

  Ain’t that the fucking truth?

  “Your camera.” Her eyes dropped to his expensive camera, which hung around his neck and dangled to his chest.

  Unable to think past getting her to safety, he settled her on her butt on the wet grass. “Sit here.” They were a good distance from the woods and far enough down the mountain that if lightning struck, it had plenty of taller targets to hit. He set the backpack beside her and said, “Stay low,” as he pressed her head down to her knees.

  He went farther down the mountain to the edge of the cliff and scoped out their options. A few feet from where he stood was an outcropping of large rocks, which would make a perfect shelter—if they could reach it safely. The ground was drenched, and the rope would be slippery. He began securing the rope around an enormous boulder, checking it several times for stability before heading back up to get Laney.

  She watched him as he closed the distance between them. The fear in her eyes was blatant now. The last of her reserves must have fallen away when she realized they weren’t going to make it to the ravine.

  He slung the backpack over one shoulder and pulled her up to her feet. “Hold on,” he yelled over the rain. She clung to him as they maneuvered slowly toward the edge of the mountain.

  “We’re going down there?” She took a step backward. “I’m not going down there. That’s the side of a cliff.”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and spoke loudly, knowing adrenaline was probably hindering her ability to focus.

  “It’s either down there, or you lie down on the grass and become the lowest point. I’m not taking a chance with you, Laney.”

  She shifted her eyes to the ground, and he knew what was going through her mind.

  “Your options are wet and cold and pummeled by rain, or take shelter and wait it out.”

  She looked out over the edge again. “What if I fall?”

  “Then you’ll land on me and I’ll break
your fall.” He was already moving toward the rope. He wrapped it between her legs and up over her hips, then across the front, tying it securely.

  “You love tying me up like that, don’t you?”

  He smiled, glad she was still able to tease. “Fuck yeah.” He turned her around, her back to the cliff, and stepped behind her, then reached around her and showed her where to hold the rope. She grabbed it tightly.

  “You sure we’re not better off just hiding in the woods?”

  “No, I’m not.” He tried to lighten the mood. “But then I wouldn’t be able to press my cock against your sweet ass.”

  Her head fell back against his chest. “If we die, know that I love you,” she said with a serious tone.

  She’d told him she loved him millions of times over the years, but hearing it here, in the midst of all that was going on, struck him square in the heart. “We’re not going to die.”

  The slope looked more treacherous than it was, but his boots slipped on the wet rocks. Using the rope for balance, they propelled down the short distance to the rocky ledge. Jackson pressed his chest to Laney’s back, finding fingerholds and footholds as they inched toward shelter. His foot hit the edge of the dry rocks, and his fingers followed, holding them in place. Laney had climbed with him enough times to know how to use her weight to move them in the right direction. With her right foot securely on the ledge and his legs straddling her hips, he used his weight to push her the remaining distance onto the platform, jumping the last few inches and landing on his hands and knees in front of her. His camera hit the rock with a loud crack! He didn’t give a damn about the camera. His sole focus was Laney’s safety.

  “You okay?” She crouched beside him.

  “’Course.” He looked past her and nearly fist pumped at the sight of a perfectly dry little cave.

  She followed his gaze. “How’d you know that was there?”

  “I didn’t. I just saw the shelter away from the trees and knew you’d be safer here than up there.”