by Gina Watson
They’d coordinated gifts for her father’s birthday. She’d ordered monogrammed golf balls and Jackson had purchased a Honma nine iron to replace the one that Chloe almost beat Cal in the head with when she’d found out he’d bet his friends that he could score with her in Vegas. As she smirked at the memory her phone rang from the top of the dresser.
Jackson’s face filled the screen. “Hey, Cracker Jack.”
“I love to hear your voice. Can’t wait to spend the weekend with you. I’m pulling in to the complex as we speak. Got you something special.”
“You spoil me.”
“Always. Come out to the car before it melts all over me.”
She hung up and made her way to the front door. Spotting his old Civic she walked up to the car. He stepped out looking gloriously disheveled with his day of stubble and his short hair out of place. He bent to take her lips before handing her a chocolate dipped cone. Her favorite. “Thank you for the cone.”
“You’re welcome. I wish I could buy you so much more. One day.”
“But I like dipped cones.”
His intense eyes leveled at her. “It’s so easy to please you.”
She put her arm around him. “I love you Jackson. I would rather be monetarily poor with you and rich in life.”
He chuckled. “Then I think your wish has come true.”
“Wanna bite?”
His head came down and he took a bite that demolished half the top.
“Hey!” He pulled her in close and kissed her lips. When she opened her mouth he shared his prize with her. The chocolate had already started to melt and she moaned from the delightful sensation.
They waved to Mr. Porter as he parked in his stall and unloaded his groceries. He was in his fifties and worked as an electrician. As Clara licked her ice cream cone she recalled the day he’d helped them put in a ceiling fan, patiently relating to Jackson the wiring process. They’d offered to pay him, but Mr. Porter had said he’d only accept payment in the form of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Clara made him three dozen and continued to keep him stocked with homemade sweets.
Jackson placed a kiss on her lips. “Let’s get loaded up and then I’ll need to shower. Any chance you’ll join me?”
“Love to.”
“We’ll need to take your car. I don’t have much faith mine will make it. I need to get that oil leak checked out.” Of course he didn’t have the money to pay a mechanic, nor did he have the time to take a look at it himself. At least they had her car.
Once the stuff was loaded, they went into the bedroom and she undressed him while the shower water warmed. When he was naked she swatted his perky butt and he climbed into the shower, she followed behind. He was slim but had defined muscles from jogging and riding that damn bicycle to work—over the bridge. It was dangerous and she always worried so he hadn’t done it as much as he used to, but with his car on the brink of breaking down he’d recently taken to riding it more than ever.
She sighed as the hot water pelted around them. He loved for her to lather her hands and massage away the workday. She started at the back of his neck, moving down to his shoulders and then the muscles of his upper back. She loved his butt and could hardly wait to massage further south. It was the same thing every time. She’d start on her massage and by the time she ended up at his butt he’d turn, just as he was doing now, and offer her a teasing, naughty smirk.
He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist while he rested her back against the tile in their small bathtub shower. She liked the size because there was barely enough room to accommodate them both and they had to remain close. In their passion neither of them could speak, but their communication was strong. His eyes tightened and pleaded for her acceptance, which she gave by roughly pulling him toward her. She groaned her impatience and he slowly entered her. Whenever they made love it was like it was their last time. Or their first time. She didn’t know, but she felt the intensity and his pinpoint focus. It was like he was deliberately trying to make their connection last as long as he could. She also wanted to be connected to him for all of eternity and even beyond, so she didn’t mind that he would get frenzied, but then slow to an almost stop just before she was about to experience bliss. He’d always come back around and work her up again. He kissed her, the shower water mixing with their saliva. His tongue slid down her chin and neck to her breast until he was at her nipple. He loitered, tracing the pebble with his tongue while his pace was steady but slow. She raked her nails across his back and his gaze caught hers.
“I love you,” she whispered.
A half cry, half gasp escaped his lips. “Three little words. Not enough.” His pace increased until he was assaulting her and the skin at her back stung from being pulled by the tiles. “You save me from darkness Clara. You’re everything.”
She didn’t want him to be even on the precipice of plummeting into the depths of the darkness he spoke about. “Jackson, I hope you’re happy because you make me happier than I’ve ever been or could imagine being.”
“Bug, I’m flipping rapturous. With your love I could hold up the world.”
They held on to each other with hard unrelenting grips as they came together, like they always did, intense and cleansing, whole and complete.
≈
Driving to the estate with her hand entwined in his, listening to her emo music, was the epitome of happiness. What she’d given him in the shower was the closest to heaven he knew he’d ever get. Fine with him. Paradise couldn’t get any better than Clara naked, sudsy, and writhing under his touch.
Making the turn that placed the car on the estate made his skin prickle. He sensed the end of their utopian cocoon and the beginning of despair. He pulled up under a pecan tree. The scariest thing of all was he knew she felt it too. Her eyes turned down and her wringing hands communicated trouble. Given her sixth sense, he was not surprised when he exited the car and Mr. St. Martin rode up on a horse.
“This is my boy Jackson. He’s in his final year of residency at Baton Rouge General. Jackson, I want you to meet Warren Granger. His daughter, Lexi, is inside; I’ll introduce you to her later. Told him you’d wine and dine her for the weekend. She’s got her masters in nursing. She’s twenty-seven years old. Do I smell a love connection?”
“You always did enjoy playing matchmaker,” Warren said, and then extended his hand toward Jackson. He took Warren’s cold, lifeless grip into his, not liking the way he sized him up like a bull at auction. “Baton Rouge General. Impressive.” Jackson nodded.
“We’ll just let you get unloaded and then I’ll do the introductions.” Laughing, Mr. St. Martin strode away alongside his business partner.
Jackson turned and looked across the hood of the car to see Clara, frozen in place, grief etched on her face.
“Bug, it changes nothing. I’ll get out of it. No one can compare to you.” He walked over to her and took her earlobe between his fingers. She didn’t respond, but looked to the ground. “Bug?”
Her held breath pushed from her lungs in a painful sounding gasp. “But she’s … she’s in medicine and she’s your age. Lexi’s perfect for you.”
She used to ask why he wanted her, a dumb sixteen-year-old girl. It had taken him a year of uttering reassuring words in her ear for her to start believing him. He’d finally told her she was everything good and pure he’d ever known. In comparison he was dust, a black hole. She’d stopped asking after he’d shared those words.
“No.” He shook his head. “Bug, I’ve found my perfection already.” He took her hands in his. “Hey, look at me.” Her pained eyes burned him. “All that I am, all that I’ll ever be is wrapped up in you. You alone make me who I am.”
Her smile broke. “That sounded like emo lyrics. I thought you hated emo.”
“I could never hate something you love.” He kissed her nose. “Your expressive powder-blue eyes follow me in my sleep. You’re all over my dreams. I could never exist apart from you.”
Others
started to arrive so they broke apart and he removed their bags from the car.
“What’s this bag with wine and cheese in the backseat?”
“Give it to me.”
“You want to explain why you have a bottle of wine given that you’re under age?”
“Oh pipe down with the underage speech. I’d not intended for you to see it until tonight. It’s from Moretti’s—an expiring Manchego cheese and a bottle of petite Syrah that Lucian said would pair nicely.”
“Mmm.” He licked his lips and brushed them together.
“And guess what? It’s a Viejo, aged one year.”
He smiled widely. “Are we sharing this lone bottle and my Manchego with the rest of your family?”
Her eyes sparkled. “I sure didn’t have that in mind when I packed it. Thought you could sneak into my room later tonight, like you did last time.”
“You should be a party planner. You’d earn millions.” They kissed behind the privacy of the car door.
Inside he greeted most of her brothers and went upstairs to stow the luggage just to get away from the leering eyes and snide comments about the Granger girl. Truthfully, it was hard for him to watch all of her brothers happily married and making googoo eyes at their wives. It made him yearn for the day they’d be accepted as a couple. His gut seized when he realized they probably never would be.
He dropped her bags on the bed in the room that had served her during her childhood years. As he looked around the room with its handwritten passages and colorful Chinese lanterns, he thought the décor was whimsically original and thoughtful just like her.
In the hall he ran into her mother. “Mrs. St. Martin.”
“Jackson, honey, you look tired.” She placed his jaw in her palms and kissed his cheeks. “You don’t come around enough. How’s your residency going?”
He loved this warm woman who was the only semblance of a mother he had. Her sincerity with him, despite the fact that she had seven other children, always boosted his spirits. He liked that she made his time special. “The hours are long.”
“I just read about the huge accident on I-10. They took a lot of the victims to Baton Rouge General. Guess you saw them both going and coming didn’t you?”
“Yes ma’am.” He felt his eyes go unfocused at the graphic memories.
She clasped his hand in hers. “Will you have coffee with me in the morning? Just you and me.”
“I’d love to.”
“Great. I’d like to catch up with my favorite son.”
He smiled, knowing she said that to each of her children.
“Hope you plan on staying the night.”
“Yeah, we thought we’d stay through Monday.”
Her brow furrowed and it was then that he realized he’d referred to Clara and himself as a we.
“I mean Clara and me, she rode with me.”
She smiled at him, squeezing his forearm. “I’m so grateful she has you to look after her. I don’t worry so much about her alone in that big city.”
He couldn’t say anything at her overt display of trust in him, but his insides burned with the lie.
Chapter 6
Inside, Clara went around and hugged each member of her family—her family that had grown by leaps and bounds. She held Daria in her arms. Isa and Cash’s baby was just an infant, but she was the most beautiful baby Clara had ever seen. Cash had a few new tattoos that he was showing to the crowd. Scrawled in beautiful cursive script over his heart were the words, Isabela and Daria. Her eyes filled with tears at the happiness her brother projected. And he wasn’t the only one. They had all found someone and so had she. She just couldn’t show any outward signs of it in front of her family, but she longed for the day when that would no longer be the case. She thought maybe they should tell Cal first since he was pretty easy going, but it was hard to predict how he or any of her brothers would take the news. She was ready to start an honest life with Jackson. There would never be anyone else for her.
“Who have you got there?” She knew that deep smooth voice.
She smiled up at Jackson. “You remember Daria.”
“Wow, she’s grown since I saw her last.”
“Do you want to hold her?”
“Sure.” Clara gingerly laid the baby in his arms. Daria cooed and Jackson erupted into the cutest baby voice she’d ever heard. Watching him with the infant made her heart swell. She didn’t want to have kids right away, but she wouldn’t want to wait too long after they married. Maybe two years, that way she’d be an official adult. But there was that video they watched at school. Jackson’s deep sapphire gaze met hers and his eyes held many secrets in their depths. A slight smile on his lips was visible to her. Most people probably would have missed it, but she saw it. She knew what his every breath meant. He was imagining their family just as she had been. Video aside, she wanted to make babies with Jackson.
“Clara Grace.” Clay was beside her and pulled her into a huge bear hug until her feet no longer touched the ground. “I’ve missed you coming around the house.”
Since the wedding she’d made herself scarce because she was trying to give him and his new bride some privacy. “I miss you too.”
“Let’s remedy that, shall we? Come with us next weekend. I plan to take Eve to that place you love so much in New Orleans.”
“Jackson Square.” Clara wasn’t doing a good job of concealing her excitement and Eve smiled at her bouncing.
“The French Quarter Festival is next weekend.” Clay said.
She turned to Jackson and he too was smiling at her. “When are you leaving?” Clara asked.
“We thought we’d go up on Friday.”
“Hmm, well I have to work but I guess I could meet you later.”
She heard Jackson’s low voice filter over her shoulder. “I was actually going to go up Saturday evening after my shift.” She knew that was a lie, but was grateful he’d interceded.
“Oh, I can ride in with Jackson.”
Clay wrapped his arms around both her and Eve. “Great, a weekend with my two favorite ladies. Can’t wait. I’ll look forward to it all week.” He kissed her cheek.
Clara heard the bellow of her father before she actually saw him. “There’s my Clara Bear.” She went to his open arms. “When did you get in?”
“Dad, I was in the car with Jackson.”
“I didn’t see you.”
No because you were too busy playing match maker.
“I rode in with him.”
“I’m glad he looks after you if I’m not around to do it. Sure wish you’d move back home kiddo.”
“I know Dad, but I’m okay, really okay.” He kissed the top of her head.
Jackson returned Daria to Isa who left to feed and put her to bed. Cash followed behind them.
Clara took the seat perpendicular to the couch where Jackson sat. He told Clara a story about some celebrity chick that had come into the E.R. The set they filmed on collapsed and she sprained her ankle. Clara felt eyes on them and turned to see a busty bottle blond lustfully eyeing Jackson.
Mr. Granger followed behind the woman. Dad joined them from the kitchen holding two glasses filled with ice and an amber liquid.
“Warren, a little aged bourbon.” They clinked and toasted to their children.
“Jackson, may I present my daughter, Lexi.” He didn’t stand, just shook her hand from the couch.
“Nice to meet you.” Jackson nodded stoically. Lexi’s voice was high pitched and saccharine sweet. She took up the space next to him on the couch, their thighs touching. Jackson repositioned himself, and slid over to reestablish the lost distance. He met Clara’s eyes and pleaded, silently saying, I’m sorry.
“So you’re at Baton Rouge General.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll be transferring there next week.”
Oh, how peachy! She was pretty in a really obvious Dallas-housewife-reality-TV-show way. She wore a dress that was fancier than any Clara had ever owned, he
r breasts on display. In fact, it was amazing one of the melon shaped mounds hadn’t sprouted legs and walked out of her dress. Her hair was really long and wavy. So long and perfect it almost didn’t seem real. Her nails, long and thick, appeared fake, and possibly her lips that seemed too puffy to accommodate her face. Out of proportion, her thick lips drew the eye toward their pink, wet surface. Her synthetic tan made her appear a little too bronzed in the low light of the living room.
Her appearance was fussy, but men seemed to like fussy and Clara wondered if Jackson liked the look. Lexi was a bit of forced sophistication with her sheath dress and platform shoes. Clara wondered if she should purchase shoes like that. How did one even walk around in those things? Maybe she could practice.
Looking down at her own attire, Clara grimaced. She’d worn a blue jean skirt, white T-shirt, and pink flip-flops with big blue bows. She took the shoes off and threw them behind the chair and then she slid her legs beneath her. From the corner of her eye she saw Jackson watching her every move. Her every move. Not the sophisticated woman next to him, but her. He mouthed, you’re beautiful, and she smiled at him.
Lexi was talking about her new job and relocating to the area from Dallas. Bingo. She definitely looked like those women on TV and Clara couldn’t figure out how she worked with patients given her long acrylic fingernails. Wouldn’t she scratch someone or put an eye out? If Clara were to get Lexi as a nurse she’d send her back for a real one.
“I’m glad I’ll be focusing on case management and won’t have to see any actual patients. I never really enjoyed the whole nursing thing.”
Yeah, she’d definitely cast her back for a new nurse.
“If you loathe patient care, why’d you become a nurse?”
Good question Cracker Jack.
“I’m not sure. I was going to become a doctor, but then I got bored and wanted to just be done with school. I wanted to do dermatology so that I could use all the skin care products on myself. I love products. Can you imagine how convenient?” Jackson frowned. “Anyway, since I had most of the classes completed, I chose a degree in nursing.”