“No way, I’m going to soak up every word.” I smirked as he turned toward me and groaned as if in pain.
“Maybe I can boot out the president of your current fan-club. I’m on the PTA, ya know. I’ve got skills.”
His eyes dipped to my lips.
“Hmm…I think I’ll go out and read right now, actually, since Cody and Peter are headed out to the lake.”
As I started to scoot my chair back, Jackson put his hand on my leg under the table, stopping me. The sensation sent my body into a tailspin.
“If you become one of those swooning, young moms who wear t-shirts with Team Quinton written on the front, I will be forced to retaliate.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “How so?”
“I’m thinking butterflies—lots and lots of butterflies.”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
**********
Several hours later, I finished book one. Reading was a good distraction while still at Jacob’s house. And the cliffhanger? Horrible! How did people read these types of books before the series was completed? I’d go insane. I was already planning out my next pocket of time to read. These books were a peephole into Jackson’s soul.
Every girlfriend should be so lucky.
Girlfriend? Is that what I was?
We hadn’t discussed titles. We had hardly discussed anything. I for one wasn’t going to bring it up. If Jackson wanted to label us as an item, he would have to be the first one to say it. I was old fashioned that way I guessed. At twenty-nine, I was hardly naive, but I certainly wasn’t forceful or pushy. I could be patient.
Love was worth patience.
My stomach rolled at the thought. How had four week’s time changed me so much?
“Hey, I think Caleb and I are going to head out. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you since I got here,” Pippy said, pulling up a chair beside me.
I immediately felt guilty. I’d been avoiding her since this morning. Seeing her pretty, happy face was a reminder of my morning’s undercover work outside the library door.
“I know, sorry. I’ve been sucked into these novels. Your dad recommended them,” I said.
Pippy laughed, her eyes lighting up, baiting me to tell her that I knew.
“Yes, I know. He told me,” I said.
She threw her arms around me, “I knew he would! I just knew it! That means something you know—he never talks about his past, or his books, or-” she stopped, her face flushing pink.
“I know. We had some good conversations this weekend.”
She squealed. “What if we’re related someday! Oh, my gosh!”
My eyes grew huge. “Pippy! Please—shhh!”
“I’ve never had a sister, but of course, you really wouldn’t be my sister…you’d be like…what? My aunt? Hmm...that’s kind of weird, but still we could act like sisters-”
If only she had an inside voice. I was dying—my armpits sweating at her family tree quandaries.
“Pippy, I promise you—if and when that day comes, you will be first in line. Until then, please do not talk like that. I don’t even know what’s going on with us yet,” I said, quietly.
She nodded, her grin stretching wider by the second.
She hugged me again, and my heart went to mush, my mind again to Jacob. She pulled back from my arms, about to leave.
“Pippy?”
“Yeah?” Her face was full of vibrant wonder.
“Are…are you okay?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “Why?”
“I just…I wanted to make sure. If you ever want to talk…about anything, I’m here for you. I hope you know that.”
She nodded. “See? You’ll be a great big sister-type. That’s exactly what one would say.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Okay. Well, I mean it.”
“Thanks. It was a great weekend, I was so glad Caleb was able to meet my folks. I think they both really liked him.”
I nodded, my words caught somewhere inside.
Would Jacob be alive to see his daughter get married one day?
“It was a great weekend,” I said. “And yes, he is a very nice guy, Pippy.”
After she walked away, I felt my body relax slightly.
I had so many questions.
Too bad eavesdroppers didn’t get rewarded with answers. I slumped back hard in my chair. I would suck at being a detective.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Land Of Certain
In the Land of Certain, options are slim, outcomes are planned, and pathways are marked
Nothing is original
In the Land of Certain, everything is placed, everything is timed, and everything is controlled
Nothing is impulsive
In the Land of Certain, faith is needless, courage is useless, and trust is expected
Nothing is absent
In the Land of Certain, emotions are balanced, expressions are stoic, and thoughts are passive
Nothing is passionate
In the Land of Certain, you are nameless, you are unknown, and you are pretend
Nothing is real
For the only truth that lives in Certain, is the façade of its own deception
**********
I walked out onto the front porch, as Jacob, Jessie, Peter and Dee stood around Jackson’s car. The sight of such togetherness immediately overwhelmed me. My experience with a family this size was nonexistent, but my desire to be near it was powerful nonetheless. My chest ached as I watched them, smiling and talking as if their world wasn’t breaking.
As if their loved one wasn’t dying.
I glanced at Jacob, a wave a shame sloshing inside my belly. Helpless as I was in this situation, there was no excuse for my avoidance of him. He was a good man, one that had so obviously enriched and influenced many of the people I’d come to care about. I was a coward to hide from him—no matter how uncomfortable I was.
The truth was like an itchy blanket, trapping me beneath its rough fibers. My skin screamed at me, desiring nothing more than its removal. Yet the blanket stayed, indignant at my protests for relief.
Jackson opened my door and walked around to his side of the car where his mother pulled him into an embrace that caused something inside me to shift—to yearn. A warm surge of envious-want coursed through me. I’d never known a mother’s love or affection. There were years that I’d gone without a well-meaning, well-intentioned touch. Years that were lost to the shadows of my past, but standing here, watching this, was a reminder that touch had a distinct purpose: love.
“You’re good for him, Angie. Don’t give up.” The whisper was low, yet the tender voice that spoke was unmistakable.
Jacob was at my side, smiling. His eyes held the same child-like wonder I’d seen countless times in Pippy, the same hope and life. He nodded at Jackson and winked at me. A rush of heat stung my cheeks as he pulled me into an embrace. My throat swelled as I racked my brain for words to follow such a statement. In the end though, I simply said goodbye, forcing a smile on my lips as he closed my car door.
I fought the tears that threatened to pool in my eyes and refused to blink as I looked out the window at Jackson’s family.
I hated time in that moment. The certainty of what it brought, the injustice of who and how it robbed from us.
A rebellious tear slid down my face as Jackson started the engine.
Life was so uncertain.
**********
By the time we pulled up to my apartment building, my mind was like an overstuffed suitcase. No matter what tactic I tried, I couldn’t get the darn thing to close.
There was virtually no line of thinking I could venture down without an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness taking over. Between the fallout from the interview with Divina, my upcoming meeting with Dee, Jacob’s failing health, Cody’s approaching trip home, and the new developments with Jackson and I…the list of unknowns was growing by the second.
Twice, Jackson had brushed my
hand with his while we drove, asking more with his eyes than he did with his mouth. Twice, I had simply smiled in reply.
“I’ll walk you up,” Jackson said, grabbing our bags from the trunk.
“Thanks,” I said, following him inside the elevator. Cody already had our key in his hand, anxious to get inside our room. He’d had to use the restroom for the last half-hour. As soon as the doors opened, he was off, running down the hallway to our door. Jackson laughed.
“If I knew he had to go that bad, I would have stopped.”
“Oh, he’s fine.”
“But are you?” Jackson asked, dropping the bags at the doorway, a concerned look on his face.
My guilty conscious tugged at me. Who was I to be the cause of his concern, not when his only brother was home facing incurable cancer? The fact that Jackson didn’t know I knew that information was the cherry on top of my guilt-sundae.
“It’s gonna work out, Angie.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know which of the many things he was referencing, but I knew his statement couldn’t pertain to that one.
Jackson touched my chin and lifted my eyes to his. “Hey, what is it? Are you not feeling well?” He touched the back of his hand to my cheek, as if to check my temperature, a gesture that caused me to feel feverish in and of itself.
“No, I’m not sick. I’m just worried. I heard something this morning and I probably should have told you sooner, but-”
Jackson blew out a hard breath and pulled on his neck, causing me to stop short.
“I told Pippy not to tell you. We’re going to deal with it, Angie. I promise. I just need you to be open when we meet on Tuesday morning with my mother.”
A cold chill seemed to settle inside every cell of my body.
“What exactly was Pippy not supposed to tell me?”
Now it was his turn to look surprised, although not for long. His features shadowed over again, leaving his standard unruffled expression behind a second later.
“You weren’t talking about your blog?” he asked.
“No, what are you talking about Jackson?”
He reached for my hands then, holding them together as he wrapped his fingers around them.
“I need you to promise me something, right here, right now.”
I raised my eyes to his, his stare as intense as his words.
“What?” I asked.
“Do not go on your blog site, or anything having to do with your publication—not until we set our next course of action.”
The chill was back, trying to win over the warmth of Jackson’s hands on mine.
“You’re scaring me…why not?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to scare you, Angie. I’m trying to protect you. Trust me, please. Just stay off your computer for now—whatever damage Divina has caused, it’s not an accurate representation of who you are. Reading reviews and commentaries based off fallacies will only work against you. Promise me, okay?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was true then. Divina’s hard punches had brought destruction—to my name and reputation no less. Her crushing blow wasn’t just outing me to the world as a domestic violence victim, but framing me as a deceiver.
I nodded at him reluctantly.
Jackson pulled me into his arms as I let my body melt into him. “So, it’s bad then, isn’t it? People believe her over me—that I’m a coward?”
He crushed me to him even tighter. “If I ever hear anyone call you a coward, they will live to regret their words.”
I heard the elevator ding and a rustling in the hallway as I lifted my head up slowly from Jackson’s shoulder. Staring into his eyes I knew he meant it. He didn’t see me as weak—and in my book that was about the best compliment I could ever receive. As he lowered his mouth to mine, I heard a gasp followed by two loud thumps.
Everything moved in slow motion when I turned my head in the direction of the sound behind me.
I began to blink rapidly as if that action alone could help my eyes explain to my brain what they were seeing. They couldn’t.
“What’s going on here, Angie?”
My brother stared at me like I’d just morphed into a bright blue alien right before his eyes.
Charlie smacked him hard in the chest, hissing, “Don’t be rude.”
“Rude? Are we not seeing the same thing here, babe? Because it looks to me like some guy my sister couldn’t have known for more than two minutes was about to-”
“Briggs! Stop—I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow,” I said, my heart racing a thousand beats per second.
Charlie smiled then, walked over to me, and threw her arms around my neck. In that moment I realized Jackson’s arm was still tight around my waist. Apparently, he wasn’t nearly as bothered by the interruption as I was.
Charlie beamed. “Introduce us to your friend, Ang.”
Jackson took a step toward her, hand outstretched like a gentleman.
“This is Jackson Ross. He’s my—he’s the CEO of Pinkerton Press.”
Jackson raised his eyebrows at me slightly, nodded politely. I was so overly aware of each eye on me in that moment that I suddenly wished the hallway was made of quicksand.
Charlie reached back and grabbed Briggs’ hand and pulled him closer toward us.
“Jackson this is Briggs, my brother,” I said. “Briggs this is-”
Jackson reached his hand out to him then, lip curled in a smirk.
“Just call me some guy.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The fact that Briggs and Charlie had caught an early flight to surprise Cody and I should have been the focal point of the evening. Ironically though, the surprise had been a little bigger than they had anticipated. SURPRISE!
When I spoke to Briggs a couple of days ago after the interview crisis, I’d left Jackson out of our conversation—now I realized why I had. Briggs was a great brother, no doubt, but he would always see me—no matter how old I was—as his sister.
Standing now between two alpha males was enough to make me sweat through my clothing. Thankfully, Charlie broke the ice yet again and asked where Cody was.
“He’s inside…he’ll be so excited to see you guys,” I said.
Briggs grunted.
Jackson stared.
Shoot me now.
Charlie put her hand on the doorknob and looked back at us. “Why don’t we all do breakfast together in the morning—Jackson, can you join us?”
His eyes danced in delight at the request. For the life of me I would never understand how he could thrive in the midst of awkwardness—yet he did.
“That sounds great.” He looked at me again. “Just let me know where and when. Thanks for the weekend, Angie.” He leaned in and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek before adding, “And don’t forget your promise.”
Jackson nodded at Briggs and then turned and walked away. For a split second I contemplated running after him. If not for Cody, I would have. Any escape would have been better than the upcoming conversation with Mr. Perma-scowl himself.
Briggs crossed his arms over his chest. “I hope you aren’t too tired after your weekend getaway, ‘cause suddenly I’m in the mood for conversation.”
“Lighten up, Briggs. I’ll tell you everything, okay?” I pushed him a little to knock a smile back onto his face.
“You bet you will.”
With that, my evening had officially begun.
**********
After Briggs and Charlie settled into their room, we went to dinner at one of the local pizzerias two blocks over. Cody filled them in on our adventures at the lake house—specifically his paddleboat rides. Though Charlie had looked interested, Briggs had looked irritated. I held out on Cody’s bedtime for as long as I could, but one could only put off the inevitable for so long.
We sat now in the small living quarters of my apartment, staring at each other.
“Spill it. What’s going on with you and Romeo,” Briggs said,
leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Briggs—give the girl a chance,” Charlie scolded, turning to me and smiling. “He seems very nice, Ang…and he’s not hard on the eyes either.”
I laughed as Briggs shook his head.
“Well, to be really honest, I’m not totally sure what to call it yet. Nothing is official, but…there is definitely something there. I wasn’t looking for this—and he wasn’t either.” I laughed, thinking about the first night we met. “But I feel something very real for him.”
Charlie swooned, cupping her hand to her heart and leaning back against the couch. Briggs was silent—never a good sign.
“Angie, I am so excited for you! When did all this start? What’s he like? What have you guys talked about for the future?” Charlie asked, her voice getting higher and higher with each new question.
“Charlie—we don’t even know this guy! How can you so blindly encourage a romance you know nothing about?” Briggs threw his arms in the air as I shushed him, pointing to Cody’s door.
“I haven’t said anything to Cody yet,” I said, quietly.
“Apparently, you haven’t said anything to anyone, Angie.” Briggs whisper-yelled, which caused Charlie to giggle.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, Briggs. I know you want to protect me, but Jackson is not Dirk, and I am no longer a stupid eighteen-year-old girl. You aren’t the only one who has learned the hard way in life. I have too. I would never jeopardize Cody, or myself—you know that, right?”
He held my gaze and nodded. “Angie, I know you aren’t the same girl who chose Dirk, but I won’t pretend that the idea of you in a relationship doesn’t scare the crap out of me—because it does. I don’t even know him!” He stood up and started to pace, running his hands over his face.
“Then get to know him.”
He stopped walking and looked at me.
“I don’t know what the future holds, Briggs, but these last four weeks have changed me—in here,” I said, pointing to my heart. “I used to think that I was too tainted by my past to ever feel for someone what I feel for Jackson. I used to think I was too broken—too damaged—to ever be seen as more than just a victim, but I don’t believe that anymore. If God is as good as I say He is to all my girls at The Refuge, than I choose to believe that He can redeem anything and anyone. Even me. My story is still being written Briggs, and for the first time in eight years, I want someone to share it with.”
All Who Dream (Letting Go) Page 17