But she had run scared, digging the hole deeper with every second of lies. Now she was stuck. Well and truly stuck, but she would make the best of it. They had three and a half weeks left to play newlyweds, and since Jackson hadn’t run screaming into the Texas night when she gave him an out last night he was obviously still up for the act.
An act, though, required a plan. A plan meant she had to stop daydreaming about who Jackson might be and get to know the real man — fast.
“Dinner first, then we’ll talk about…” she motioned toward the bedroom.
“I saw that damned pallet is still on the floor, let’s talk about that.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
She was honest enough to admit that she didn’t want to keep Jackson out of her bed forever. Not even for one night. “I just haven’t had time to put the blankets back. I agree, the pallet is out.” They could use their attraction to her benefit. Everyone at the table would see the sparks she could feel right now, but they would still expect conversation. Would have questions about Jackson.
She needed some answers.
“But we only have a few minutes to give each other a crash course about our lives pre-Puerto Vallarta. Do you want to go first or should I?” There. That even sounded businesslike.
Jackson pulled back, the heat in his eyes dampened. “No one expects us to do more than make moon-eyes at each other and run back to the bedroom as quickly as possible.”
Kathleen chuckled. “Moon-eyes, yes. But last night Vanessa took the heat off of us. Tonight, she’ll turn up the heat by being a perfectly polite guest. She’ll ask us questions and she won’t give up easily. So do you want to give me your history first or do you want mine?”
“I already know your history. Raised on the ranch, went to UTEP, degree in Veterinary Sciences. Plans to take the horse world by storm, married on a beach in Mexico.”
That stopped her cold. “We were married on a beach?” Did he remember? Oh, please don’t let him remember that this ordeal was her fault. He might be more willing to play along if he thought getting married was his idea.
Jackson shrugged. “Where else do drunken tourists get married? I’m just giving us an option for our wedding story.”
Kathleen felt strangely deflated. He didn’t remember. She should be relieved, so why wasn’t she?
“Is a beach wedding a bad idea?”
“What? Oh, no that’s fine. Let them draw their own conclusions.” Kathleen pushed away her questions and paced the room. “You know the basics but you need some filler. So, what do you want to know about me?” He turned away, obviously not interested in her Getting To Know You plan. Well, tough. Two quick steps and they were face to face again.
“Is Vanessa the middle child or youngest?”
Jackson’s face was blank.
“How many times has my father been married?”
Another blank look.
“See, there are blanks to be filled in other than those few days in Mexico. Okay, the blurbologist version of my life: I’m the oldest. My mother, Naomi, was Nathaniel’s first wife, she died when I was one. Vanessa is the middle child, recently divorced from Paul and ready to make all of us pay for it. Her mother’s name is Gillian, a.k.a. Step-Monster. Monica is the baby, she’ll be here sometime next week for her annual ‘hick trip’ where she’ll beg money from Grandfather and leave with all of her bills paid for the next month. She’s never been married and — ”
“How many boyfriends?”
“That’s none of your business! Vanessa won’t expect you to know — ”
“Your dating history, and before you say it isn’t relevant, you know that it is. I can fake my way through your family history, but dating history? That needs to be spelled out. I know about Ty, who else?”
Kathleen clenched her teeth. He was right. Unfortunately.
“Five serious.”
He leaned in until she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Define serious.”
“Serious equals sex,” she said through clenched teeth. She would not want him at this moment. He was making fun of her and making her tell him things she didn’t want to at the same time. “What about you?”
“I like serious sex. And silly sex. Strange sex. Outdoor sex — ”
“How. Many. Women.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?”
Yes. No. Kathleen swallowed. The number of women before her was suddenly very important.
His eyes softened. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “The only one who matters is you.”
She pulled away from his touch. Could he even count the number of women in his life? The question was a knife to her heart. She didn’t want to be another in the long line of women falling at Jackson Taylor’s feet. Better to focus on the plan and the next few days. That would keep her heart under control.
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Teal,” he said without a second of hesitation.
Her jaw dropped open. “How did you know that?”
“Would you really buy Lucchese boots with teal insets if you didn’t love the color? You paid more for those boots than most of the population pays for rent. Custom boots don’t come cheap.”
“You’re very observant.”
“I’m a fashion photographer. I’m paid to be observant. Do I know enough about you now?”
No, not nearly enough. He didn’t know how Tommy Jameson broke her heart in seventh grade. How hard she had struggled in school.
The grandfather clock downstairs chimed.
“We only have a few more minutes. Why didn’t you take the last name Henderson? It’s your birthright, the same as Ty’s.”
His expression shuttered again. “Janice made it clear I wasn’t wanted there. I didn’t make waves because I had nowhere else to go. Now I do and I like the name Taylor just fine.”
“Where is your mom?”
“Dead.”
Her heart stopped for a split second. He was alone in the world? “I’m so sorry, Jackson, I didn’t know.”
He shrugged and turned to the closet, grabbing a fresh polo shirt and jeans. He grabbed his dirty things and hers, pushing them through the laundry chute to the basement. “It happened a long time ago. I’m over it.”
She knew she should stop talking, but couldn’t seem to get that message from her brain to her mouth. “So your mother died, you were sent to boarding schools — I remember that much from town gossip — and Mr. Henderson died just after Ty and I started high school. Is that the reason you became a photographer? So you could look at life through a lens instead of bearing those terrible moments directly?”
His laugh was a hollow sound. “Fashion photography doesn’t capture terrible moments. Don’t mistake me for a driven photojournalist home from the wars.” He finished dressing and she was afraid he wouldn’t answer. Finally he said, “I became a photographer because it pays well, allows me to travel and spend a lot of time with a lot of beautiful women.” He shoved his feet into leather loafers. “Are we done?”
The coldness in his voice froze her bleeding heart. This wasn’t the Jackson she knew. That man wouldn’t throw random women in her face just minutes after saying she was the only woman who mattered to him. She couldn’t stop pressing him now.
“Why were you in San Antonio today?”
The hesitation was brief but Kathleen saw it. “We went over this at breakfast. Alamo pictures for the showing. I think we know each other well enough for day three of our marriage, don’t you?”
Not even close. She didn’t know why he was so focused on San Antonio. Why he chose to be a fashion photographer. His favorite food. Favorite color. Pet peeves. She didn’t know how he spent his time in New York. Did he have friends to take the place of his family? Was h
e well and truly alone in the world?
And he didn’t know that Vanessa and Monica’s lifestyles both frustrated her and made her envious. Didn’t know how important her rescue horses were to her.
How important he was.
Oh, God, I do love him, don’t I? The only real thing I know about him is he’s leaving. And I love him.
That was one conversation she would not have with Jackson. Remembering her school-girl crush, her face burned. He knew about the old crush, he never needed to know that he now held her whole heart.
“Yeah, we’re done. Let’s go face the grilling at dinner.” She didn’t reach out to take his hand. It was painfully obvious from the distance in his voice that their closeness of the night before was purely sex based.
At least for him.
• • •
She asked too many questions.
He couldn’t take one more day filled with questions about his past, present, and future, much less three full weeks. No answer he gave would satisfy Kathleen’s curiosity and he would rather have her hate him for telling her nothing than see the pity in her eyes at learning he was so unlikeable both his mother and his father had abandoned him. His true story made her worries about her own family pale in comparison. Kathleen might not have her grandfather’s complete trust and her father might be a drunk but at least they hadn’t walked out on her. Like he was going to do in a few short weeks.
Walking down the immaculate hallway, Jackson berated himself for not taking Kathleen’s offer of an annulment the night before. He shouldn’t have tried to comfort her. He should have run for the airport and gotten out of this ridiculous situation as quickly as he could. It would have been better for her. He’d seen the pity in her eyes. Pity plus a woman meant feelings. And from what he’d seen of Miss Fix-It she’d soon be trying to fix him, too. And probably falling in love with him in the process.
Then he’d be the abandoner and that didn’t sit well.
Why hadn’t he left? If he had he wouldn’t have seen the sad apartment building where Maria had lived for a while. Wouldn’t have seen children’s grubby faces, waiting behind locked doors for their parents to come home for the night. Wouldn’t have been reminded of where he came from.
He had to keep Kathleen at a distance and the best way to do that was to shut her out. Maybe that pallet on the floor wasn’t such a bad idea. Because sooner or later they would both break from the weight of their lies and the weight of their silences.
She was keeping her own secrets, maybe none as dark as his but secrets all the same. Those secrets would kill any possibility of a future.
And there he went again. Thinking about a future with Kathleen when he should be convincing her to fall on her sword and tell Mitchum the truth.
The dining room was just ahead; they couldn’t go inside this way. Mitchum would never buy their act if Jackson didn’t do something to take the anger and hurt from Kathleen’s face. They were supposed to be newlyweds. Inordinately happy with everything from the blue Texas sky to the fabulous smells coming from Guillermo’s kitchen.
He pulled her into an alcove. “Look, we don’t need full life histories to pull this off. We can make up a wedding story. We can talk about our college days and we can fake the rest. All your grandfather expects is to see a happy, newlywed couple. Why can’t you just focus on that?”
“Because a happy newlywed couple knows things about one another. They know family history, they know about friends and past relationships. I can count on one hand the number of things I know about you. We can’t fake that.” She poked a finger into his chest. “Don’t you get it? If we don’t know each other we can’t be married.”
Frustrated, Jackson dug his hand through his hair. “But don’t you get it? We aren’t a typical date-for-two-years-then-marry couple. We eloped on a beach in Mexico. We’re supposed to be using the honeymoon to figure out that past history stuff. No one will think twice if I mess up your birth-order or if you talk about my dead parents as if they were alive.”
She sucked in a breath. Exhaled. “I would never marry a man if I hadn’t met his family.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, honey, I guess I married your evil twin, then, because you don’t know my family. And you married me anyway.” He crossed his arms, mirroring her stubborn stance.
This wasn’t working. He was frustrating her and she was driving him mad with her incessant “tell me everything” conversations. Couldn’t she understand that there was simply very little to tell?
“That’s different. You don’t have any family for me to know. And stop taking me so literally. I’m not a flighty person. I think about things before I act, Mexico notwithstanding.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If I don’t have answers to their questions they’ll figure out exactly what happened in Puerto Vallarta.”
Ahh, so that was it. Non-flighty Kathleen was trying to convince herself that her actions in Mexico were in keeping with her keep-it-together attitude. But knowing useless facts about him wouldn’t convince Mitchum their marriage was for real. And he could spout factoids about her life until he was blue in the face. None of that changed the fact they got married in a drunken haze in Mexico and really didn’t know one another.
Didn’t she get that?
He realized she wouldn’t let up and no amount of interesting facts about his life would replace the mutinous expression on her face with joy.
Telling himself he had no choice, Jackson pulled Kathleen into his arms and crushed her mouth under his. She resisted and Jackson softened the attack on her mouth, teasing her lips with nipping kisses.
He rubbed her shoulders in small circles, willing her to relax. She did.
Kathleen pressed against his chest, her arms encircling his neck to tease the little hairs there. It was all the encouragement Jackson needed to change the kiss from a necessary move to a needed one.
One hand cupped the back of Kathleen’s head as the other teased the skin beneath the halter straps of her dress. Her body quivered and he stepped closer, pushing her back against the wall of the alcove. He kissed her eyelids, the pulse in her temple, and lightly bit her earlobe. She shivered, a soft moan escaping her lungs.
Ringing brought them both crashing back to earth in the small nook next to the chiming grandfather clock. Jackson had no idea where he was. Why was the clock ringing?
“Phone,” Kathleen said, pushing him back with one hand and reaching for the phone with the other. She cleared her throat and answered. Jackson heard rapid-fire chatter on the other end as Kathleen’s eyebrows knit together.
“So when — ” But the other conversant just kept talking. A few seconds later Kathleen hung up the phone, worry all over her face. Jackson reached for her. Was something wrong with one of her horses?
“What is it?” he said softly.
Kathleen shrugged. “My sister, Monica. She’s somewhere doing something, I couldn’t really understand her, and won’t be home this summer. And why do I even care? She’s horrible most visits, even worse than Vanessa, so why do I feel like the only kid left at the bus stop waiting for her mother to arrive?” She turned unhappy eyes to Jackson but he didn’t have an answer. Family dynamics weren’t his specialty.
He hugged Kathleen, rubbing her back as she rested against him.
“Are you two coming to dinner? Or do you need a few more minutes to yourselves?” Mitchum asked, chuckling at the dining room door.
Kathleen abruptly pulled out of Jackson’s embrace, her face beet red. “N-n-no.” The move annoyed Jackson but not because of their act. At that moment he didn’t care if Mitchum figured everything out. He just wanted Kathleen back in his arms.
For an experienced woman of the world, his new wife acted very much like an insecure virgin when her grandfather was around, Jackson thought. He took Kathleen’s hand, pulling her into t
he dining room. At least he’d accomplished one thing: she certainly didn’t look angry with him now.
Chapter Ten
For the first time since landing in Texas Jackson felt completely at ease. Although he didn’t attend gala balls regularly in New York, he’d been to enough to know his way around. Hell, he made it through Fashion Week each year in New York and Paris without incident so he could certainly make it through a benefit where, according to his rough calculations, sixty percent of the men wore denim jeans and sport coats rather than tuxes.
Although she didn’t force him to rent a tux, Kathleen demanded that they leave the ranch early that morning so he could buy proper clothing, which included a pair of off-the-rack Lucchese boots of his own. Jackson was surprised at how comfortable his feet felt. Sport-coat of his own and new jeans had him fitting in with the Texas crowd. He grabbed two flutes of champagne as a tuxedoed waiter passed by, handing one to Kathleen. They sipped, eyes locked over the rims of the glasses. Did she want to get out of here as badly as he did?
Josie Bryan, the charity president, interrupted them, telling Kathleen that several benefactors wanted to speak with her before handing over their very large checks.
“They won’t be happy listening to my speech about the surgeries, clinic visits, and in-home care we provided last year?” Kathleen asked.
Josie shook her perfectly coiffed head, hammered silver earrings glinting in the low light. The big diamond on her right hand looked deadly, but from what Jackson had seen as she worked the room, Josie wasn’t attached to any one man. Her black designer gown showed a modest neckline but the back plunged low. Josie was currently using that backside view to keep at least two men interested in her comings and goings across the wide ballroom. She took Kathleen’s elbow and steered her away from Jackson.
“We’ll be right back, Jackson, honey. Why don’t you mingle?” Kath suggested.
Texas Wishes: The Complete Series Page 9