by JoAnn Durgin
“Michael, good to see you,” Jackson said when a curly-haired boy who looked to be about eight approached. “Want a hot dog, buddy?”
The boy’s dark eyes widened and he bobbed his head up and down. “Yes, please. Is there ketchup? I gotta have ketchup.” Serenity opened a bun and Jackson plopped a hot dog in the middle.
“Here you go. Condiments are on the picnic table right over there. Hey, David,” Jackson said as a tall, blond man walked up to them. “David Marsh, I’d like you to meet Serenity McClaren. She’s keeping me straight so I don’t crisp the meat beyond recognition. Serenity, this is Michael’s dad.”
David smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Serenity. I’d shake your hand, but I see you already have your hands full.”
“I take it you’re talking about this,” she said, lifting a plate, “and not Jackson.”
David’s laugh was hearty, and Jackson gave her a wink. “I think you’ve met your match, Doc Jack.”
Jackson breathed out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s what I keep telling her. What’ll you have?” Jackson asked, rolling over a couple of the hot dogs. “I’ve got brats, hot dogs and burgers.” The grill sizzled and Serenity hoped neither of them heard her stomach rumble. Who knew the smells of grilling meat—not vegetables—would make her so hungry?
“Great. I’ll take one brat and one hot dog.” David thanked her when she handed over two buns on a plate. A lovely woman walked up to stand beside him. “Carmen, this is Jackson and Serenity.” With her long, dark hair and olive skin, she was exotic and very pretty.
As the two men exchanged small talk, Serenity turned to the other woman. She appeared to be a few years older, in her mid-thirties or thereabouts. “Are you new in town?” A weird feeling came over her, like she’d seen Carmen somewhere before.
Carmen accepted the hot dog David handed her and Serenity walked with her to the condiment table. “Is it that obvious? New in town, new relationship...” Although she spoke with a slight accent, her English was perfect. Tucking a dark curl behind one ear, Carmen gave her a small smile. “You?”
“I grew up here but went to Atlanta to study. I moved back a few weeks ago.”
“What do you do?”
“I started an interior decorating business here in town called Inner Serenity. If you’re in the market for some decorating help, let me know and I’d love to help. I also make a mean cup of tea or coffee if you’d like to stop by and chat sometime.” After Carmen asked for her business card, Serenity told her the cross streets closest to her office and dug a card from her pocket. “It’s in the heart of the downtown district.”
“Your name is so unusual,” Carmen said, glancing at the card. “Very pretty.”
“Thanks. It’s courtesy of two free-thinking, New Age parents. For a beach town like Croisette Shores, it seems to fit.”
“Growing up in Miami, I always had a few other girls with my name in my classes, so consider yourself lucky.”
“What do you do?” Serenity asked as the other woman squeezed mustard on her hot dog. The deep red color of her fingernails reminded her of something. The woman in the hospital cafeteria. Serenity lowered her gaze, unsure what to think or whether to say anything. What could she say? Nice to meet you, but have you been following me?
David called to Carmen, and Michael stood beside him. “I’m a flight attendant, but I retired a few months ago. I’d better go, but it’s very nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Serenity watched, puzzled, as they headed toward a picnic table.
“David’s wife died in a car accident a few years ago,” Jackson said when she rejoined him by the grill. “Michael took it really hard, as you can imagine, and he’s having a little trouble adjusting to his dad’s new relationship. They moved here for a fresh start, and David’s the history teacher at the high school.”
Without Jackson actually saying the words, Serenity understood Michael was one of his patients. “I hope it works out for all of them,” she said.
Jackson nudged her shoulder, an action that was becoming more frequent. Not that she minded. “I think you’re nice. I heard your invitation to Carmen.”
“Just being neighborly.”
“Well,” he said, “here’s an idea. How about the two of us get neighborly later tonight?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Dr. Ross!” She didn’t know what to think, but against her better judgment, the idea sounded better all the time.
“Now, see? This is the real Serenity. The fun-loving, genuine, giving—”
“I get your point,” she said. “Don’t spoil the moment by reminding me of my shortcomings.”
“Point taken.” He started whistling and she moved over to straighten the condiment table. No wonder he’d more or less accused her of being hot and cold. It’s how she’d survived the past five years and it would take some time to work it out of her system. If she ever did.
A half hour later, the crowd seemed to wind down. Another guy came over and told Jackson to go eat and he’d take over the grill duty. “Time to live dangerously,” Jackson said, plopping a sizzling hot dog on her plate.
“Right,” she said, giving him a mock frown as she grabbed a bun. “But don’t put any chips on my plate or you’re in big trouble, mister.”
“I’m shaking in my shoes.”
After loading her plate with salad and an ear of corn, Serenity canvassed the park for a table. Most were already occupied, but seeing Mrs. Marciano waving to her, Serenity led the way to a table occupied by a young couple, Mark and Sarah Coltrane, and their three kids. Friends of Deidre and Wes, she’d known them before they were married. Life moving on as it should. In some ways, seeing their children made the pain of losing Liam all the more real.
“A word of warning,” she said, whispering in Jackson’s ear after they’d climbed over the park bench and sat down side-by-side. “Dustin’s a prankster. He’s the one to your immediate right.” Jackson smelled so good, his skin warm.
“Bring it on.” She giggled and bowed her head as he took her hand and said a quiet prayer.
The first few minutes, Mrs. Marciano asked Jackson questions. “Why do I feel like I’m the one getting grilled?” he whispered, leaning so close his lips touched her ear, sending shivers everywhere.
“I can tell Mrs. Marciano likes you.”
He chuckled, low in his throat. “Better than the quarterback?”
“Most definitely,” she said, doing a little nudging of her own with her knee beneath the table. Jackson’s surprised glance told her how much he enjoyed it when she initiated the flirting.
“Haven’t you ever eaten a hot dog before?” Ten-year-old Katelyn watched as Serenity surveyed her hot dog, turning the bun in her hands, debating which end to nibble. “You’re looking at it like you don’t know what to do.” Katelyn would faint if she told her she’d never consumed macaroni and cheese from a box mix or tried a Pop-Tart.
“My mom wouldn’t let me eat them when I was your age,” Serenity said. “I’ve never had one with mustard. Normally, I like ketchup.”
“Then how come you put mustard on it this time?” Katelyn asked. Leave it to kids to ask the hard-hitting questions.
“Because I want to eat it the way Jackson likes it.” Without looking at him, Serenity sensed Jackson’s satisfaction with that statement.
“How come?” The girl seemed fascinated with the way she picked off a section and sampled it instead of digging right in and chewing a big bite. “My mom says you gotta do things your own way or you’re a copycat. If Jackson jumped off a bridge, would you...”
“That’s quite enough out of you, young lady,” Sarah said. “Serenity has a right to eat her hot dog any way she wants without any comment from you.”
“Yeah, it’s a free country.” Peyton scrunched his nose in his sister’s direction.
“You see, Katelyn,” Serenity said, tossing a glance at Jackson, “I don’t look at it as copying, but more like an experiment.” Taking a bigger bite for emphasis
, she chewed slowly, savoring the taste.
“Whaddya think?” That from Peyton, watching for her reaction.
She wiped her mouth with the napkin and grinned. “Not bad at all.”
Doubling over beside Jackson, Dustin clutched his stomach and gagged. It only took a second to figure out what was happening. Jumping up from the bench, Serenity ran to Dustin, wrapped her arms around the boy and hauled him off the bench from behind.
“What’s she doing, Daddy?” Katelyn’s question barely registered as Serenity performed the Heimlich with swift, sure thrusts. A piece of hot dog spewed out and landed on Katelyn’s plate.
“Eww! Gross!” Squealing, Katelyn scrambled down from the picnic bench and threw herself into her mother’s arms.
Dustin crumpled and cried as Mark reached his side. Peyton stared at the scene with wide eyes and then looked over at her. “Wow. That was way awesome.”
“Thank you, Serenity,” Mark said, and Sarah echoed the sentiment as she released Katelyn and moved around the table to gather the now whimpering Dustin in her arms, sitting on the bench and rocking her younger son back and forth.
Serenity nodded, embarrassed. “I’m glad I could help.”
Mrs. Marciano sat watching the scene, appearing stunned, but she quickly recovered. “I always knew that girl was special,” she said to Peyton, gesturing to her, “but I had no idea she could actually save somebody’s life. Good neighbor to have, wouldn’t you say?” Peyton nodded with enthusiasm.
“You’re my heroine,” Jackson said as he finished cleaning the grill and Serenity repackaged leftover buns a short time later. “What you did for Dustin was amazing and Peyton’s crushing on you big time. Where’d you learn how to do that, anyway?”
“Mama made sure I learned the Heimlich by the time I was in middle school.” She gathered leftover packages of buns and supplies, noticing Jackson’s muscles on full display as he used serious elbow grease on the grill. Her mother always said a good man worth having was one who wasn’t afraid to roll up his sleeves and work hard. Funny how her mother kept coming to her mind lately.
“Good to know in case I’m ever choking.”
“Surely working with children, you know it, too.”
His cheeks flushed, a rare sight. “Yeah, I do. But unlike you, I’ve never had to use it, thank the Lord.” He grinned. “I know you’re better at the Heimlich than you are at eating a hot dog. There’s an art to it, and I think I’m going to have to teach you.”
She sniffed. “No, thanks. A hot dog-free existence is fine with me, especially after what happened today.” A few minutes later, finished with their task, she prepared to leave. “Ready to go?”
The look he gave her could only be described as sheepish. “Some of the guys are planning a game of touch football. Only for an hour or so. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Why should I? Go. Have fun.”
“Thanks.” He grinned like a little boy. “Want to come and be my personal cheerleader?”
“I’m sure some of the other ladies will watch from the sidelines. I need to take Mrs. Marciano home.”
Digging in the pocket of his shorts, Jackson pulled out his car keys and tossed them to her. “Take my car. It’s parked closer than yours.”
Serenity eyed him. “Are you sure?”
“It’s hot and too far for Mrs. Marciano to walk.”
She meant more as a matter of Jackson trusting her to drive his expensive car. “Thanks.”
“Welcome. Coming back, I hope? You know, to return my car.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Serenity?” Jackson stepped closer.
She turned. “Yes?”
“It’s a British import, remember. Steering wheel’s on the right.”
“I’ve been in your car before.”
“But you haven’t driven it before. Big difference.”
“I’ll just take my car then,” she said. “No big deal.”
“No, no,” he said, raising his hand. “I trust you completely.”
“Do you have a name for your car? I mean, I understand that’s what guys do.”
He laughed. “Believe it or not, I haven’t named it.” Tilting his head, he grinned. “I’m thinking about Prudence.”
“Right,” she said, giving into her laughter. “I must be going now. To drive that ridiculously expensive import of yours. I sure hope I can remember the rules of the road and not drive on the wrong side or something.”
“Serenity?”
Dropping one hand to her hip, she whirled around. “Yes?”
His smile was incredible and seared straight through her. This man was getting to her.
“Peyton’s not the only guy crushing on you.”
Her heart took a flying leap. Curling her fingers around the keys, she gave him her best smile. “I’ll be back.”
~CHAPTER 22~
Although he tried to hide it, Serenity caught Jackson’s wince as he dropped down beside her on the grass an hour later. The man played hard, and from her limited experience, even she could tell he was better than most at the game of football—agile, fast and powerful. Now, he’d pay the price for all that diligence. Why men did it to themselves, she’d never understand, but they always seemed to have something to prove, one way or another.
Jackson rubbed his right knee with his hand in a back-and-forth motion too precise to be random. The fall he’d taken had been hard and a direct hit. Most of the other players had already departed and she knew he’d waited, smiling through clenched jaws as if nothing was wrong, not willing for them to see his pain. Leaning back on both elbows, he stretched out his legs, the muscles around his mouth tight, his lips pressed firmly together.
“What can I do to help you, Jackson?”
“Sit here with me and hold my hand for a minute. And then I’ll probably need some help getting into the car and into my house. This one’s going to take some time getting over.”
“Should you go to the emergency clinic?”
His brow creased. “No, I don’t think it’s necessary. They’d only charge me a hundred bucks to tell me to do the very thing I’ll do when I get home. I’ve had surgery. It helped for a while but then the pain returned.”
Squeezing his hand tight, Serenity sat in silence, hoping her presence would give him even the smallest measure of comfort. He made a sound when he shifted, and bit his lip. Positioning herself beside him, she placed her palm over his right knee, leaving it there. She didn’t know the first thing about knee injuries, but wanted to ease his pain in some small way. “Old football injury?”
For a fleeting second, something flickered in his eyes. “Something like that, yes.”
“Is there anything I can do to make it feel better? I can tell it really hurts.”
He drew in a couple of deep breaths, grimacing. Something about his obvious discomfort drew her to him even more. Although she hated to see his pain, it somehow made him more vulnerable, and that strangely appealed to her. For a change, Jackson needed her. “I’ll show you.” Placing his hand overs hers, Jackson moved them in a small circular motion, slow and steady. “Exert a little pressure, but not too much. The warmth of your hand helps as much as anything else.”
“Lay back and relax,” she said. “Just tell me when to stop.”
“How about never?” Crossing his arms behind his head, Jackson stretched out on his back.
She continued moving her hand in the circular motion, pressing down and kneading slightly every now and again. Jackson’s eyes were closed, his lips parted. As she worked, she was overwhelmed by a swell of emotion. It frightened her, but thrilled her, all at the same time.
Bending at the waist, she planted a soft kiss on his knee and allowed her lips to linger. Lord, I hate to see him hurt. Let my ministrations help him in some small way. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek gently against his knee.
Jackson ran his fingers over her hair. “Come here. You’re too far away.” His voice was husky, full of tenderness.<
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Crawling beside him, Serenity cradled his head in her lap, stroking his hair, sifting through the silky strands. “You have the most gorgeous hair in the world,” she said, admiring the natural highlights. “A lot of women pay tons of money for highlights like these.”
“How do you know I don’t?”
“Because you wouldn’t. Would you?” She paused her fingers. Please say no.
“No, so you can release that breath you’re holding.” He winced again. “I can think of much better ways to spend my money, but thanks for the compliment. I think.”
“Does your knee hurt often?”
“Often enough to remind me it’s there. A direct hit tends to exacerbate it.”
“Sorry. Want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly, Doc Serenity. I’d rather talk about anything else in the world, if you don’t mind.”
“I thought you liked talking about wounds.”
“Other people’s wounds fascinate me, not my own.”
“Maybe we should examine why that is, counselor. We need to get you home, and I still have your car keys. Do you want me to bring the car closer to the field or do you think you can walk?”
“Depends. How far away did you park?”
“About five hundred yards.”
He blew out a sigh and struggled to sit up beside her. “With your help, I think I can walk. Make that limp.” Taking his arm, Serenity wasn’t sure if she helped or hindered his effort.
“Thanks for catching me when I fall,” Jackson said, his breathing heavier than usual and coming out in spurts.
“It’s my honor.” She assisted him into the car as best she could. He grunted and grasped the top of the car as an anchor as he swung his long legs into the vehicle.
Ten minutes later, she pulled in front of Doc Rasmussen’s cottage. Coming around to the passenger side, she assisted him out of the car as best she could. With his arm draped around her shoulder, he hobbled beside her to the front door. Leaning on her, he seemed taller and bigger. Jackson rested against the wall as she inserted the house key. Once inside, he picked up speed as he made his way across the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. Closing the front door and putting his keys on the small table beside him, Serenity hesitated, not sure what to do first.