by Drea Stein
“Ok,” she said, accepting what he said. He moved to turn on the car, and on impulse she reached out to touch his arm, feeling the electric connection that ran sprang up when their skin connected.
She quickly drew her hand back, saw that he had glanced down at where her hand had been and was now looking up at her. Maybe there had been something more to the kiss. On impulse, she said, “I suppose this deserves a thank you.”
“I don’t need a thank you. I was just being a good citizen,” he said but a dark look crossed his face. He had felt it, she was sure, that same spark of connection. But he didn’t want to acknowledge it. She took a step back. Whatever was going on, Jackson was fighting it. She looked at him, but he kept his hands tightly fisted around the wheels, eyes straight ahead. She shouldn’t push it, shouldn’t push him. She’d be asking for humiliation.
“Well then, again thank you.” She took another step back, far enough away so that Jackson could safely pull away from the curb without running over her foot. She almost missed it, the look of relief that crossed over his face, the way the tension eased out of his shoulders and relaxed fractionally.
He looked up at her and his face was unreadable. “Goodbye, Lynn,” he said. And then he hit the gas and the car took off.
Chapter 29
“Why do you think Jackson changed his mind about the closing the clinic?” Lynn asked Tory. They were in Lynn’s apartment, at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee and eating bagels Tory had brought from The Golden Pear. Tory had promised to help her do some shopping for dishes and cookware, something she had been dreading, but Lynn was getting tired of eating off of paper plates and cooking in the microwave.
Tory swallowed her sip of coffee. “Oh, I don’t think he grew a conscience if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“What do you mean?”
Tory laughed. “It’s because the poor man has been subjected to a steady stream of his friends and family telling him he was a bad person, a terrible citizen, and that if he wanted to stay here and try to forget the past, he needed to let the clinic stay open. First up was Chase—I heard him on the phone giving Jackson an earful, then later Noah Randall stopped by while Jackson was doing something at the hotel. I didn’t hear that conversation, but I did hear the one in The Golden Pear where Caitlyn and Darby tag-teamed him about his Scrooge complex.”
“Oh.” Lynn didn’t know why she suddenly felt so deflated. Why should she have thought that Jackson’s changing his mind about keeping the clinic open would have anything to do with her? Of course, it made more sense that he would have considered how it would look if he closed the clinic. It had been a calculated move, a strategic decision; nothing to do with his feelings about her.
“What is it?” Tory asked, her voice suddenly sharply curious. “Did you think you had something to do with it?”
Lynn shrugged. She hadn’t told Tory about the kiss she couldn’t get out of her mind.
“You’re not telling me something.” Tory looked closely at her and Lynn felt a flush of embarrassment start to crawl up her skin under the intense scrutiny.
“You didn’t, did you? Omigod! Did you sleep with Jackson Sanders?”
“I did not.” Lynn’s hand flew to her throat. “He just kissed me.”
“Aha! Gotcha. I knew something happened and since you weren’t about to tell me, I had to guess.”
“It was just a kiss!” Lynn defended herself.
“He kissed you and you’re only just now telling me about it?” Tory looked at her over her coffee and shook her head.
“Sorry that saving lives had to come first.” Lynn said, a touch of petulance in her voice.
“There you go. That’s always your excuse, you know. That whole ‘saving lives’ thing. What about me? You know, I fixed someone’s hard drive at work the other day—saved a year’s worth of data.”
“That’s impressive too,” Lynn answered, doing her best to sound like it was.
“It’s how I got the morning off. A little way of Chase saying thank you, plus I worked until four in the morning debugging the customer database last night.”
“Wow. Guys must love it when you talk computer speak.”
“Only the smart ones.” Tory flashed a smile. There was a pause and then she said, “So he is getting over the late, great Ashley.”
“Funny, because I don’t think he’s over her at all.” Lynn said, putting down her coffee cup and pushing her bagel away. Suddenly there was heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she thought of something. Jackson might not be over Ashley. That would explain why he seemed so determined to ignore whatever was brewing between the two of them.
“Why, what do you mean? He finally came back to town. I mean, he’s been away for years. If that doesn’t say he’s over her then I don’t know what does.”
“Then he has the most self-restraint of any guy I know.” Lynn’s mind flashed back to the way it had felt, with her back up against the door, Jackson’s hands holding her, the way their lips had met.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s it. It’s like nothing happened between us. I mean he talks to me, but won’t look me in the eye. I can’t decide if he hates me or if he’s afraid and wants to jump my bones.”
Tory smiled. “I’d go with he wants to jump your bones. But supposedly he was pretty messed after the accident. Left town right after the funeral and didn’t come back until now.”
“What happened?” Lynn had to ask.
Tory shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I was at college so I only got secondhand information. The details were murky, even the newspaper articles were kind of vague. But apparently, it seemed like Jackson and Ashley were out for a ride, going too fast or something and the car crashed. Jackson walked away without a scrape and Ashley didn’t.”
“You mean people blamed him?”
“Yeah. Well, Mrs. Moran did and she went around town, doing all she could to smear Jackson’s name. That’s why he left. I mean, things were pretty brutal for him here, from what I gather. I mean, obviously Chase and his friends, his real friends, stood by him, but it wasn’t easy. Of course, Ashley came out looking like a saint.”
Lynn nodded, thinking that it explained the reaction Jackson had gotten in The Golden Pear. But she caught the underlying bitterness in Tory’s words.
“You don’t sound like a fan,” Lynn said.
“I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but Ashley was one of those girls who had everyone fooled. She was blond and cute and a star soccer player. She raised money for homeless dogs and sick kids. She had a smile for everyone to their face and then a knife for their back. And she had her claws deep into Jackson. I mean, if he so much as said hi to another girl or hung out with the guys instead of being with her, she gave him hell. She was just a real, well, bitch.”
“Wow. What did she do to you?” Lynn asked, curious.
Tory looked up with a slightly regretful face. “Let’s just say I wasn’t always the hot computer chick you see in front of you.”
“Oh?”
“In high school I was a scrawny, glasses-wearing computer nerd, and Ashley was the sort of girl who ate my kind for breakfast and spat them out. Not that I wanted her dead, but I am not sure she deserved the storybook ending, or to be memorialized as a saintly do-gooder.”
Lynn frowned. Jackson didn’t seem the sort of guy who would go for a girl like that; but perhaps cool, blond, and bitchy was exactly his style.
“Well, I for one am glad you’re a computer nerd, because seriously I do need your computer skills.”
“Doesn’t everyone,” Tory said.
“I can pay you,” Lynn mentioned and she saw Tory’s eyes light up. She knew Tory enjoyed working for Chase and his company, but she also remembered Tory had mentioned wanting to start her own computer consulting business. When Caitlyn had told her she should get a website up and running for Healthy Kids Now, Lynn had no idea where to start, but trusted Tory would.
“Do tell.”
Tory said. And Lynn smiled. Now that the clinic was on steadier feet, Lynn was excited to take her program to the next level. Caitlyn and Phoebe had inspired her to start thinking bigger. She knew she couldn’t do it alone, and she was certain Tory was the perfect person to help her.
Chapter 30
“What are you doing here?” Jackson’s voice came out of nowhere and she almost dropped her hotdog. He stood eye level with her, but only because she was sitting on the third level of the bleachers. She hoped she didn’t have any mustard on her face and fought the urge to send her tongue in an exploratory lick.
“What am I doing here? Why are you here?” she answered back, looking at him in surprise. Of all the people she had thought she might see at a girls’ soccer game, Jackson was the least likely.
He nodded toward the players on the field. “Watching the game.”
She looked at the soccer team and then back at him. “Do you often watch girls’ soccer teams? Should I be worried?”
“No.” He rocked on his heels, and she got the sense that he was embarrassed. She waited, hoping there would be more, so she held his gaze with a questioning one of her own.
“The coach asked me to stop by,” he finally said, running a hand through his hair. It was longer than she had seen it, curling slightly over the edge of the collar of his leather jacket. She realized that he wasn’t wearing a suit, just jeans and a shirt. Not that she was complaining. Jackson could wear anything, or nothing at all, she was willing to bet, and still be hot. Even his slightly odd behavior was doing nothing to quell her appreciation of that basic fact and the effect it had on her system.
“Are you going to stay and watch?” she asked, patting the empty bleacher next to her.
He gave a smile, but it seemed forced. “Sure.”
He took the seat next to her, but perched on its edge as if he was ready to bolt at any moment. Still, his arm grazed hers and he didn’t pull back, at least not right away. There was the faintest bit of pressure and she again felt the electric current running between them. He turned and looked at her, an intense, direct blue gaze; she had to look away, shift herself ever so slightly away from him to break their connection.
Lynn put her half-eaten hotdog down. She was still in her scrubs, of course, but she figured she didn’t need to add a mustard stain to the patchwork of substances that had already landed on her today.
“You never answered my question. What are you doing here?” he asked, looking straight ahead.
“I’m just stopping by too. I promised that one,” Lynn pointed out the girl in pigtails, “number thirty-two, Anna, that I would watch her play once this season.”
Jackson watched. “Ok,” he said and Lynn knew what he was thinking.
“It’s not about how good she is. It’s about the fact that she’s here at all.”
“And why’s that?”
“Well, she’s one of my first.” Lynn said. He looked at her. “One of the first kids I put on my Healthy Kids Now program. Over a year ago, Anna was about twenty-five pounds overweight and drank soda for breakfast and thought a French fry was really a vegetable.”
“Ok,” he said, watching Anna more intently now.
“Over the past year, she’s lost the weight, loves vegetables, exercises for thirty minutes a day, and got straight ‘A’s last quarter.”
“All right, I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, she’s an amazing kid, now. But she was a tough case, stubborn; didn’t want to listen to me, thought she was too smart to hear what I said. So I made her promise to motivate her. I didn’t know if it would work, but apparently it did.”
“What sort of promise?” he asked.
“If she made the soccer team, I would come watch her play. I think she kind of looked up to me, so I thought the promise would give her some encouragement.”
“And did it?” Jackson asked.
“She’s out there now. She’s their backup player, so she’ll only be on the field for another couple of minutes, but…”
“That’s not the point,” he finished for her.
“And since then, about fifty kids have gone through the program at the clinic alone. I’m working on making it more official, so that other places, like hospitals or schools and even other clinics, can use it.”
“Really?” he said.
“You sound surprised?” Lynn countered. She was staring straight ahead, watching Anna, but she felt his gaze on her, so she finally turned and looked at him.
“Actually, I’m not surprised at all. Sounds like a good idea.”
She looked at him, suddenly not sure what to say, so she just nodded and looked back at the field, hoping to distract herself.
“Go, Anna!” Lynn called as she watched the girl catch a pass and then dribble it up the field. She made it a respectable halfway before the opposing team managed to swipe the ball from her. But it was a start.
The whistle blew and the coach called for a sub. Anna, her pigtails flying and her face red, came off the field to a round of applause and cheers from her parents. She waved at them and came straight toward Lynn.
Lynn hopped down and gave Anna a big hug. “That was amazing!”
“You watched!”
“A promise is a promise,” Lynn said.
A man trailed behind Anna. He had on sweatpants, a visor, and a whistle around his neck.
“This is my coach, Coach Dave,” Anna said.
Lynn said hi, but realized that Coach Dave’s attention was not on her, but behind her.
“You came,” he said. She turned and saw that he was speaking to Jackson, who had risen and was standing uncomfortably behind them.
“Dave,” he said moving forward. Lynn watched as Coach Dave pulled Jackson into one of those awkward one-handed hugs that guys always seemed to do.
“Well, Anna did an awesome job today. But let me tell you, without this guy we wouldn’t have a field to play on.”
Jackson shrugged, but Dave wouldn’t be deterred. “Yup, let me tell you up until a few years ago this place was weed lot. But thanks to Jackson and his donation, now the kids have a place to play.”
“Least I could do,” Jackson said.
Lynn thought that Jackson was embarrassed, since the top of his ears were turning red. She looked around. She hadn’t given much thought to the town athletics fields, but she supposed they were pretty nice as far as junior soccer and little league fields went. This field was tidy, neat and small-town picture perfect under a blue autumn sky, the trees ringing it wreathed in their autumnal coats of orange, scarlet, and yellow. There were bleachers, baseball diamonds, and separate fields for soccer. There was the snack shack building that had sold her the forgotten hotdog, plus a playground with little kids swinging and hurtling down slides.
There was even, now that she noticed it, a nice bronze plaque. She had to strain a bit to see the inscription, but then Coach Dave led Jackson over to it, keeping up a running commentary on turf versus grass, number of teams in the league, and other things. Lynn trailed along, watching the rigid set of Jackson’s shoulders.
The plaque, when they got to it, affixed to the side of the snack shack, was impressive. It showed the relief of a female soccer player and underneath it read, “Dedicated to the memory of Ashley Moran, beloved athlete. Made possible by the generosity of Jackson Sanders.”
“I told you I didn’t want any recognition,” Jackson said, turning on Dave. Lynn took a step back. She recognized the look in Jackson’s eyes. It was similar to the one he’d had after he decked Bode.
Coach Dave slapped Jackson on the back, seemingly oblivious to Jackson’s anger, “Oh man, I couldn’t let that happen. Without your donation, none of this would have been possible. People deserve to know, man. It can only help you.” At this, Coach Dave’s hand dropped low.
Jackson drew up himself up so he practically towered above Dave. “I didn’t do this to look good. The whole point was that I didn’t want anyone to know. Take it down. I’ll pay for a new one.” Lynn sa
w that Jackson’s mouth was set in a hard, thin line.
Coach Dave seemed about to say something more, but even he had the good sense to realize Jackson was upset.
“Whoa, sure thing, Jax. Whatever you want. Didn’t mean to upset you. Just thought…”
Lynn took a step forward and put her hand on Jackson’s arm. He turned to look at her, and she saw a flash of anger die down to be replaced by something else. Pain, regret maybe.
“I just don’t want to make a big deal about it.”
Dave, relieved that Jackson didn’t seem like he was going to get any angrier, held up his hands. “Sure, no problem. Like I said, I’ll get on it right away.”
“Thanks.” Jackson turned around and started to walk away. She put an arm out to stop him but he looked down at it, and then up at her and she saw his face was contorted in sadness. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, to smooth his hair and tell him it would be ok, like she did with one of her patients.
He seemed to read her mind because he took a slow step back. “Lynn, I am not one of your patients. What I have can’t be healed with some aspirin and rest.”
“I know,” she started to say but he cut her off.
“No, you don’t know. I don’t know what you’ve heard...” He swallowed. “You might think you do know, but you don’t, you can’t. No one else ever will. I came back home because I couldn’t, didn’t want to stay away any longer. But not everyone is happy I am here. And I can’t drag you down with me, so this,” and he held out his hands to encompass her, “can’t happen. It’s not a good idea,” he finished, almost as if he were telling himself.
He took another step back and she stopped, not following him and taking a deep breath. Really how much clearer could he be?