Christmas Treats Box Set: Books 1 - 4
Page 7
Sure enough, the dog’s head emerged from the pile of flower-printed comforter, and then her body followed. Peaches leapt off of the bed and bounded toward the door.
Bianca yawned as she grabbed the leash. Jackson had dropped her off around midnight the night before, but she’d stayed up until two just trying to process the events of the evening. Peaches liked to rise with the sun, which meant Bianca was functioning on only a few hours of sleep. She was due to work the three-to-eleven evening shift that night, and she had a feeling it was going to be a struggle.
Maybe the fresh air will help, she thought, as she ushered Peaches out the door.
The sound of her phone ringing surprised her, midway down the front steps. As usual, her heart leapt up into her throat with the fear that something had happened to her mother.
When she saw Jackson’s number on the caller ID, she was able to lay that fear aside.
“Question for you,” Jackson said, after they’d greeted each other. “Last night, you went into some very detailed particulars about a dog park in your area. You weren’t making that up, were you?”
“Nope,” Bianca opened the back door to her car and Peaches leapt inside eagerly. “It’s a real place called Dove Meadows.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the coincidental nature of his inquiry. “Actually, I’m heading there now to let Peaches romp around before my work shift. Why? Are you in the market for a new place to take Rufus?”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Jackson said. “And also, I want to see you. I have something to run by you, if you don’t mind.”
Bianca felt her energy lift as anticipation swept over her. She quickly took inventory of her outfit—which was barely fancier than the lounge clothes she’d slept in the night before. At least she wasn’t still in sweatpants, but she wasn’t exactly dressed to impress either. The faded jeans and white tee shirt were old, casual attire that she usually wore on days when she knew she’d soon be changing into her scrubs.
She glanced over her shoulder at her front door with the idea of running back to change, but quickly realized that she didn’t have time. She was due to leave for work in an hour, and if she didn’t leave the house that very moment, Peaches wouldn’t get the exercise she deserved.
“Um… yeah, I mean… no, I don’t mind. I’d like to meet up with you. Do you need directions?”
“I’ll look it up on my phone,” Jackson said. “Rufus and I are already out for a drive, so we’ll head in that direction. Should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll look for you by the entrance,” Bianca said.
The sensation of anticipation built into a stirring, stormy sense of anxiety as she drove the short distance to the dog park.
She felt a visceral excitement about seeing Jackson again. There was no doubt in her mind that she was extremely attracted to him. Every cell in her body yearned to be closer to him when he was near, as if he was exerting some kind of gravity that pulled her in. Despite this, his words made her uneasy. He has something to run by me, she thought. Is it another scheme?
She wished that Jackson had called just to say hello. She wished, desperately, that he wanted to meet up with her just for the sake of spending some time together. Instead, he seemed to have some further business arrangement on his mind.
Nothing in life is simple, Bianca thought to herself as she made the right into the Dove Meadows parking area.
For the next few minutes, she lingered by the entryway, scanning the lot for signs of Jackson. She didn’t even know what car to look for, seeing as he’d been in a different car each time she’d seen him, so she examined every flashy car that pulled into the lot.
Finally, she saw him, driving the same red Porsche that he’d picked her up in on the night of the riverboat cruise.
When he stepped out of the car, Bianca was sure she saw some of the women in the area turn their heads. A sense of defensiveness coursed through Bianca—how dare they look at my man like that!—before she realized that she had no right to feel anything of the sort. Of course they can look at him, she thought. We’re not dating!
Jackson wore a dark polo shirt, jeans, boots, and a baseball hat. He carried a tennis ball in one hand, and his tan-and-black rottweiler, Rufus, kept his eyes focused on the ball.
Jackson smiled in Bianca’s direction as he opened the gate that led into the park. He hurled the ball into the distance, and Rufus took off like a shot after it. Bianca grinned as Peaches, who’d been sniffing around a bush nearby, joined in on the tennis-ball chase.
“He usually moves like an old man, even though he’s only seven,” Jackson said. “But then when he sees a ball, he acts like a puppy.” He shrugged.
Bianca laughed. She began walking away from the entrance, which was the busiest area of the park.
Jackson fell into step beside her. “This place is pretty awesome,” he said, as he took in the surroundings. Towering oak trees lined the path they walked on, and off to either side were sprawling meadows of green grass.
Rufus barreled toward Jackson, a slobbery tennis ball in his mouth. Peaches wasn’t far behind.
Jackson gently plucked the ball from between Rufus’s teeth, in a gesture that seemed well-practiced. He then hurled the ball off into the distance again.
“So much space for them to play!” Jackson said. “This is nothing like the one I’ve been going to downtown. You know the one on Twelfth and Orchard?”
Bianca nodded. “You want to know something crazy? I took myself on a tour of every single dog park in Memphis, about six years back, when I was in the market for a house. I actually chose my place because it was close to this gem.”
“Smart woman,” Jackson said.
They strolled in silence for a moment. In the distance, the park’s pond glittered, reflecting the afternoon sunlight. One dark shape at the pond’s edge ran back and forth, while another lighter form plunged into the water.
“Looks like they found the pond,” Bianca said.
“At least it’s a pond, not a river, or Rufus would be barking his head off,” Jackson said. “We’d get banned from this place on our first day.”
Bianca laughed. “It’s a dog park—I’m pretty sure barking is allowed.” She turned to look at him. “You said you wanted to talk over something, right? What’s on your mind?”
He looked toward the pond. “Can we sit over there for a minute? This will take a few minutes to get out. I don’t want to keep you too long, but I want to lay it out in a way that won’t freak you out.”
Bianca felt her anxiety mount. What in the world was on Jackson’s mind?
He continued. “I know you said you have to go to work this afternoon, so I won’t take forever. But do you have a few minutes?”
“Fifteen,” Bianca said.
“That should be plenty,” Jackson said. He quickened his pace and led the way to a bench that looked out over the pond.
Peaches was running along the sandy shoreline now, chasing after Rufus. The rottweiler looked like he was in heaven as he wove between clumps of cattails and occasionally lowered himself onto the sand to roll around. Whenever he was down, Peaches bent low over him, nuzzling him playfully in an attempt to get him back on his paws so that the chase game could continue.
“Those two are playing like old friends,” Bianca commented, as she lowered her purse onto the bench next to her.
“I’ve never seen him hit it off with another dog so fast,” Jackson said. He cleared his throat. “Okay, here goes. This might sound a little bit crazy, but please just hear me out. Last night went really well, I’d say. Wouldn’t you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So it got me thinking. What if we kept it up? I mean, my mom loved you. It was obvious.”
“It was?” Bianca wasn’t sure about that. To her, Mary had seemed rather stern and tight-lipped.
“I’m sure of it,” Jackson said with a confident nod. “She’s not the type of person to gush, but I could tell. Sure, I haven’t seen her in a few decades, but I
can read people pretty well, remember? And she was enamored by you. I could see it in her eyes.”
“Jackson,” Bianca said, “you can’t continue lying to her. She’s your mother. She deserves to know the—”
Jackson interjected before Bianca could finish her thought, “I know what you mean. I really do. This isn’t about deceiving my mom for malicious purposes. This is about feeding her a story that she really wants to hear—for a good cause. I’ve been thinking about that house…” He got a far-off look in his eyes.
Bianca spoke up. “It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” she said. She recalled words Mary had spoken the night before: People and places become buried by the sands of time. Forgotten. “You want to preserve your past. Your memories.”
Jackson nodded. “It probably sounds trivial—getting the deed to that old house. I mean, it’s not like it’s worth much money. But to me, that place means something. To someone else, it will just be a piece of property to sell off. They’ll demolish the structure, fill in the foundation, and then go about building something new. That thought breaks my heart.”
He drifted into silence for a few beats before speaking again. “My past feels so broken, you know? I don’t mean to get too deep on you, but I want you to understand. It’s like—it was broken up when I was just a kid. Shattered to pieces. And now, I feel like I have a chance at putting some of those pieces together again. I can’t say I know how it all is supposed to fit together. All I have is this sense—this kind of urge—to keep going with this.”
Bianca waited for more. She knew he wasn’t through yet.
Jackson took a deep breath, and she watched his blue eyes scan the water, watching the dogs play, but not watching at the same time. His mind was on the inner struggle that he was trying to put into words.
“It’s like… being in a dark cave,” he said. “There’s a rope inside that leads all the way to the cave entrance. I have my hands on the rope, and I have to keep following it. I can’t drop it. I can’t let it go.” He turned to her. “Does that make any sense at all?”
Bianca nodded. “Yes,” she said softly. She knew, deep in her bones, what Jackson was talking about. “You want to repair your past. That house was significant to you, and you don’t want to lose it, and now you’re following your intuition about how to convince your mother to leave the house to you.”
Jackson grinned and nodded. “That’s it. Intuition. I didn’t have a word for it, but that’s exactly right. It’s a sense I have, about my mom and how she works. I don’t even think she’d come right out and tell me that she’d only give me the house if I tied the knot, but that’s just how she is. Complicated, right?”
“Most families are,” Bianca said.
Jackson chuckled wryly. “Indeed.”
Bianca turned over Jackson’s statements in her mind. Then, while a breeze rustled the leaves on the trees above them, she said, “But Jackson, if you intend to keep this up, that means your mom is going to expect a wedding.”
Jackson nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “The real deal. White dress for you, tux for me. I was thinking we could stage the whole thing to happen on Christmas day.”
Bianca’s eyes widened. She hadn’t really expected Jackson to go this far. In her mind, she’d begun working up possible alternatives—perhaps Jackson could tell his mom they’d had a quiet elopement, or something of that nature. Putting on a fake wedding felt entirely too risky.
“You’re serious?” she said, raising her brows.
Jackson nodded. “And in addition, we’d have to keep up the act for the rest of my mom’s life. Then, once she passes on, we’ll file for a divorce. Go big or go home, as the saying goes.” He raised a corner of his lip in a half-smile. “The universe favors the bold, Bianca. What do you say—will you help me?”
Bianca was just about to shake her head when Jackson spoke again. “And in exchange for your help, I’ll pay you a million dollars.”
The words made Bianca freeze. Her refusal died in her throat. In a flash, her mind was filled with fantasies of what it would feel like to have a million dollars.
I could pay off my house and get a home for Mom to boot.
I could provide Mom with twenty-four-hour care. Both our lives would be transformed. No more fretting over bills. No more tossing and turning at night before the mortgage is due. Mom and I would both be happier…
Her heart beat quickly in her chest. She could feel Jackson’s eyes on her, waiting for a response.
The breeze that stirred the air died down, leaving a stillness that also seemed to be waiting for Bianca to speak.
“Yes,” she said, with her next breath. “Yes, I’ll do it. I’m in.”
“Great,” Jackson said. He smiled, and the corners of his eyes creased. “Perfect. I’m so glad. I’ll have my lawyers draw up the paperwork, and we can meet at my office in a few days and get everything squared away. Would Tuesday work for you?”
Bianca felt as though she was dreaming as she uttered a reflexive response. “Yes… Tuesday. Tuesday should be fine. I’ll be working a night shift that evening, so late afternoon would be best.”
“Late afternoon it is,” Jackson said. “We’ll shoot for about four.”
This is so surreal, Bianca thought, as she took out her phone to make a note on her calendar, hardly able to believe that she was making an appointment to see Jackson Wylde with regards to becoming his fake wife.
Chapter 9
Bianca
“Let me get you a refill,” Bianca said to her mother the next day, after they greeted each other with a hug and a kiss.
Helen Jones, Bianca’s mother, smiled in her lopsided way. Over the past few years Bianca had become accustomed to the way the stroke had changed her mother’s expressions. Despite the frozen muscles and folds of skin, Helen’s kind nature always managed to shine through.
“That would be wonderful, love,” Helen said. She used one arm to prop herself up more in the bed. “Haven’t seen my nurse since eight this morning.”
As Bianca walked swiftly to the room’s exit, she checked the name of the nurse and nursing assistant who were supposed to be caring for her mother that day. She groaned inwardly when she noted that the nurse in charge was one of her mother’s least favorites.
“I’ll see if I can track her down,” Bianca said.
Because it was Monday, Bianca’s usual day off, she had a whole list of items to check on with the nursing staff with regards to her mother’s health. How was physical therapy going? Occupational therapy? Her lab results, her nutrition, her mobility?
Of course, Bianca also planned on talking to her mom about her mental health. How was she feeling emotionally? Back when she’d first moved into the facility, Helen had gone through a fairly severe bout of depression. Since then, Bianca tried to be sure to always keep a finger on the pulse of her mother’s mental wellbeing.
As Bianca filled up her mother’s ice water in the small communal kitchen, she thought over the other item she wanted to discuss with her mom: Jackson Wylde. Bianca had always valued her mom’s advice, and she longed to get a second opinion on the proposed fake marriage that she and Jackson had discussed at the dog park, just the day before.
When she returned to her mom’s room, she found that Helen had turned down the volume on the television and was now flipping through a stack of magazine clippings with one hand.
“Bianca, honey, I just remembered a recipe that I meant to give you yesterday evening when you stopped by. It’s in here somewhere… homemade autumn soup.”
“I wish you’d been able to try that soup I made last week,” Bianca said. She placed the full Styrofoam cup of water on Helen’s tray table then took a seat in the recliner that was positioned by the bed. “It turned out perfectly. Too bad it spilled all over my car—it still smells like parsley and oregano in there.”
Helen laughed softly as she continued leafing through glossy pages. “You mean you haven’t cleaned it yet?”
“Not yet.
Been too busy.”
“With what?”
“Well, work, for one thing,” Bianca said. Her mind turned to all that had happened since her minor car accident. Not only had she met up with Jackson several times, but she’d also gone out of her way to find a suitable outfit to wear to the charity dinner. Did all of that count as work? Was Jackson her employer, in a way?
She frowned with confusion.
Helen stopped flipping through recipes. “What is it, honey? You look upset. Are your hours getting to you? Have you heard anything more about switching to the day shift? Nights can be so hard on the body’s systems, you know. You need some regularity. Routine.”
Bianca shook her head. “It’s not that,” she said. “Work is actually going pretty well. It’s just… well, it’s actually the guy that I rear-ended. It turns out he’s kind of a big shot. His name is Jackson Wylde—as in Wylde grocery stores. His father started the chain, and Jackson now owns it.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Is he giving you a hard time about the accident? These things happen, honey. And even if you were at fault, that doesn’t make you guilty of a crime. It was a simple mistake.”
Bianca shook her head. “He’s not upset about the accident. Actually, he kind of worked it to his favor. He asked me to accompany him to this fancy dinner, as a way of breaking even with him. It turned out I didn’t have adequate insurance to cover the damage to his car, so it was a pretty nice offer.”
Helen nodded knowingly. “Honey, it sounds to me like he has the sweets for you. And how could he not? You’re beautiful, smart, thoughtful—”
“I don’t know, Mom,” Bianca said. She sighed, letting her head loll back against the firm blue cushions of the seat. “It’s all such a mess. I did think he liked me, a little, at the beginning.” She thought of the energy she’d felt buzzing between her and Jackson during the dinner cruise. “But then things got off track. He asked me to pretend to be his fiancée. He’s got this idea in his head that his mother will only approve of him if he’s married. He wants me to help him with that.”