The January Cove Series Boxed Set Books 1-8

by Rachel Hanna

  "Not really. At least not seriously."

  "Let me ask you something, Jackson. What do you want? I mean what do you see in your future? Family? Being eternally single?"

  Jackson sat there for a moment seriously considering his brother's question before answering. "I'd like to have a family someday." In a way, he surprised himself. He almost looked around the room to make sure he was the one speaking.

  "You've got to set your life up for it now. You've got to start making some tough decisions about your business because no one is going to want to marry a man who's married to his business. You've got to give up some of that control. You built the company, it's a strong company and you need to start trusting other people to help you run it. You need time off. You used to be this really fun loving guy and now you're nothing but a workaholic. There's no room in your life for a woman, and I think that's why you haven't found one."

  "Wow. That was deep, Kyle. Maybe you should get your psychology degree."

  "Don't get defensive. You know I'm right. Just think about it." Jackson nodded and the brothers continued eating their lunch before parting ways at the front door.

  Rebecca stood behind the counter of her coffee shop, staring out the plate glass window at the very few people walking down the street in January Cove. She enjoyed the small town life a lot more than she thought she would when she left New York. There were just too many memories there, too many milestones that had been passed. While being around people who knew her and the places that she and her husband had been should've been a comfort, it was too painful. Even twelve years later, seeing their favorite pizza place or walking past the park bench where he proposed was too much for her.

  Still, sometimes in the dead of night when she woke up with nightmares, she wondered if she'd made the right decision for her and her son. She pondered over whether leaving home was the best course of action.

  Of course, now it was a little too late to worry about that. She'd set up her life here in the small coastal Georgia town. Jolt was doing well enough, and she was starting to develop a following especially on Friday nights when she had live music in the café. She knew that a new start was what they needed, but it didn't make it any easier to leave everything that she knew behind.

  It was getting close to closing time, and she had lots of things to do inside of the coffee shop that evening. For one thing, she wanted to get a head start on the painting. The color in the café was a drab beige color that the previous owner had done. But she wanted the place to be a lot more funky and fun, a lot more beachy. So, her plan was to paint it a pale shade of blue and add all kinds of ocean accents around the room. She had been looking at local thrift stores and garage sales for weeks, finding everything from a big wooden fish to hang on the wall to some old netting used on a fishing boat that she would tack up across the ceiling. She wanted the place to feel like the coolest little beach coffee shop anyone had ever seen.

  As she walked across the room and closed the front door, she looked up and down the street at all the little businesses. Many of them had closed and reopened even since she'd been there, and it often worried her whether or not her coffee shop would make it in the long run.

  She locked the door and turned the sign to closed before heading around the back of the counter. Once she had counted up the money for the evening and balanced out the cash drawer, she lowered the lights and went upstairs to change her clothes.

  She threw on the cruddiest clothes she could find and asked Leo if he might want to help her with the painting but he said no, of course. He was busy watching some reality show that was coming on TV that night while he was simultaneously playing some game on his iPhone.

  She wished that he wouldn't shut her out like he was doing, but she knew not to push it. Obviously losing his father had been a bigger impact in his life than she even realized. Maybe he was just being a bratty fourteen-year-old boy full of hormones. Either way, she was trying to tread lightly right now.

  She walked back downstairs and started popping open the paint can. She decided that she needed some music in the too quiet coffee shop or else she might just go crazy. The sound of silence was not her friend, and it allowed her to think too many things from her past.

  The only problem was that her thoughts right now weren't about her past. Instead, they revolved around Jackson Parker, and she really didn't want to admit that at all. He was a nice guy, as it turned out, but she wasn't looking for love. As much as she was lonely and would love someone to be there to comfort her, she knew her focus had to be on her son right now. And the truth was that no man in his right mind would want to take on a teenage boy who was acting the way Leo was. She was destined to be alone until he was grown, she thought to herself.

  She turned on the 80s music channel and started bopping around the coffee shop. Something about dancing to Madonna and Michael Jackson made her happy. Even though she knew the glass windows would allow people to see her dancing, she didn't really care. After all, she was off duty and didn't have anything to prove to anyone. Besides, the lights were turned down low enough that hopefully no one would notice her horrific dance moves. The downtown area was a virtual ghost town the day after Thanksgiving anyway, so she decided to let loose and have fun.

  She dragged the ladder from the back storage room and set it up against the far wall. She couldn't help but dance as she heard some of her favorite songs including Thriller. She was dancing around on the ladder and swooshing the paint up against the wall having a good time when she felt someone looking at her through the window.

  Oh crap, she thought to herself.

  She turned around to find Jackson was standing in the window with a sly smile on his face waving at her. She smiled back and went to step down off the ladder but slipped and fell right on her butt in the open paint container at the foot of the ladder. Jackson looked horrified in the window, especially since he couldn't open the door and help her because it was locked.

  She waved her hand at him and said she was okay before she ambled up to her feet, paint dripping down her jeans. This was not the way that she wanted to impress a man. And this is exactly why she didn't date. She was obviously out of practice. Her dance moves might actually have been better than her dating skills, and that thought scared her.

  She walked carefully over to the door, dripping paint behind her onto the nice hardwood floors. It made her sick to think of what she was going to have to do with those floors just to make them look nice again.

  She opened the door and Jackson immediately stepped in and grabbed onto her so that she didn't fall down.

  "Are you okay? I'm so sorry that I made you fall!" he said pushing the door closed behind them and locking it.

  She looked down at the floor with blue paint splattered all over it. "It's not your fault. I had music going and I wasn't paying attention…"

  "Come on, let me help you get this cleaned up before it damages the floor."

  "I think it's too late. Hardwood floors and paint. I don't think those mix very well," she said shrugging her shoulders and covering her face with her hands. Still, Jackson ran behind the counter and got some wet paper towels and immediately got down on his hands and knees and started wiping up the paint. Luckily, it was coming up fairly easily because it was still so wet. She watched him for a moment, thinking how nice it was that there was a man in her life right now who was willing to help her. Even if he had caused her to divert her attention and fall off the ladder.

  "You don't have to do that. I can…" she said trying to reach down and take the paper towels from his hand. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with seriousness, and shook his head.

  "Rebecca, you have to let people help you sometimes. Go change your clothes, and I will get this all cleaned up. Okay?" he said. She knew that he wasn't asking a question, but giving her a demand. As she was okay with that. “Oh, and you have a little paint right here...” he said softly as he stood up and reached out, touching her right cheek. She froze in place, her breath seeming
ly caught in her throat.

  “Thanks,” she whispered trying not to let him see her trembling. What was he doing to her? He smiled slowly, and lowered his hand. “I’ll be right back,” she said before backing up.

  She went upstairs, and Leo was still watching television and completely paid her no attention. She changed her clothes and washed up before heading back downstairs. Jackson had gotten the floor completely cleaned up and had turned the music down. He was sitting in one of the café chairs when she walked back down the stairs.

  "Listen, I'm so sorry that I made you fall. I was just watching you dance, and I was enjoying the show."

  "Well, it's not your fault, as I said. And, my dance moves leave a lot to be desired. It's been a long time since I've been out dancing. I only did that during my single days... before I was married."

  "I love to dance. In fact, I think I'm one of the only Parker siblings who likes to dance. I'm not sure that I'm good at it, but I like to do it."

  She smiled at him for a moment, all too aware that his personality was filling up the space. She felt a little bit like her lungs were deflated, and she couldn't seem to take in a deep breath. What was this guy doing to her? Just the mere thought of him dancing with her had her in knots.

  "My husband liked to dance," she said without thinking. She wasn't even sure why she said it, other than to remind herself that she had once had a husband that she loved. That's when it hit her that she was feeling guilt over the fact that Jackson Parker was making her feel things she hadn't felt since she met Tom all those years ago.

  "He did? I know a lot of men don't like to dance because they think it's girly. But, I think it's cool if you know how to do it." Jackson seemed undeterred by her mention of her late husband. And why should he feel threatened? Tom was dead. There was no getting around that. Tom wasn't coming back.

  Suddenly, Rebecca felt overwhelmed by grief. The kind of grief that she had right after September 11. It was like a distant memory of him dancing had conjured up images that she could barely take. Suddenly, without any ability to stop it, her eyes welled up with tears and she had to turn around and dab them with a napkin that was lying on the counter.

  Jackson got up and slowly walked toward her. Then she felt his strong hands on her shoulders, and his touch made her shiver. She hadn't felt that kind of touch from a man in so long.

  "I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes memories flood back and the emotions just grab me."

  He slowly turned her around to look at him, but she continued to tilt her head toward the floor. With his finger, he lifted her chin up to make eye contact.

  "Rebecca, I can't begin to understand the level of grief that you've gone through. Yes, I lost my father, but that's not the same thing as losing the person that you planned to spend the rest of your life with. It's not the same as being left alone to care for your child for the rest of your life. It's not the same as watching every hope and dream you've ever had go up in smoke, literally. It’s not the same as being reminded of his death every time someone mentions that terrible day in September. You’ve never gotten a real break from any of it. So I can't say that I understand your pain, but I appreciate it. I wouldn't ever want you to stop having memories of your husband. It sounds like you two had a wonderful love affair, and you shouldn't ever let those thoughts go. But, if I can give you one piece of advice?"

  She nodded her head, still unable to speak.

  "Don't get so bogged down in the grief that you can't move forward. There's someone else out there for you, someone else who will love you. Not like your husband, but like himself. It will be different, and it should be different. You can't go around comparing every man you meet to your late husband because we are all different. But you deserve to be loved and cared for again. You deserve to have a partner in your life, and you deserve to have someone who will make room for your late husband in the relationship too."

  Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. She'd never heard a man speak such beautiful words. And it had never occurred to her that the man that she chose to spend her life with would have to make room for Tom too. He would always be a part of her, if not just in her memories then also in the form of Leo. In that moment, she realized that it was time to move on, and that she could take Tom with her on that journey.

  "You okay?" he asked looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. He still had his hands on her shoulders, and she'd almost forgotten that they were there. It felt so comfortable and comforting that she didn't want him to move them, but he eventually did and shoved them into his pockets.

  "I'm fine. It doesn't happen often, but every now and again those memories just come flooding back. It's just not fair. It's not fair what happened to us. It's unfair that some lunatics who wanted vengeance on our country were able to come into it and just take away all those lives. It's not fair that I didn't get to say goodbye and that I loved him. There was no warning. He was just gone. There wasn't even a body to bury. Leo was too young to understand. None of it's fair."

  "You're right. I'll never forget where I was and what I was doing on that September day, but it can't compare to what you must be feeling. And whether it's been one year or twelve years or twenty years, you're always going to remember that day. You're always going to wonder what could have been. And I would say that's normal."

  "Thank you. I don't normally talk about this with anyone, even my close friend in New York. But it's nice. It's nice to get to talk about it again."

  "Any time," he smiled, and again her stomach started doing flip-flops.

  "So, what are you doing walking around by yourself on these deserted streets tonight?"

  "Well, I was actually coming here to talk to you."

  "Talk to me? About what?"

  "I was wondering if you and Leo might be interested in taking a little day trip with me tomorrow."

  "A day trip? To where?"

  "Well, there's a little island that we can get to by boat. Pretty deserted. Not many people go out there, but it's a great place for a picnic and maybe to throw the football around. Would you be interested in joining me?"

  "I don't know…"

  "Come on. It sounds like you need a little getaway."

  "Don't you have to get back to Atlanta?"

  "I decided to stay through the weekend. No one's going to be working for the next couple of days anyway, so there's really no reason for me to be back at the office as soon. I think you could both use some time to relax."

  She looked down and her face turned red. "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean to ruin your Thanksgiving. It just goes to show that Leo and I need to spend our Thanksgivings alone so that we don't interfere with other people," she said.

  Without warning, he reached over and touched her hand which was resting on the counter. "Rebecca, the last thing you need to be is alone." Their eyes met for a moment, and she could feel electricity ricocheting around inside of her body. She felt like what he was saying to her was a lot more than what it sounded like on the surface. Maybe he was interested after all, but was she interested in him? Was she interested in finally moving forward?

  "But what about the coffee shop?"

  "Most places on the strip are completely closed for the holiday week, so why don't you just take a day off? Better yet, how about I get Kyle to come over and run the register for you?"

  "Do you really think he'd do that?"

  "Of course he would. He likes you, and he could drink all the coffee he wanted while you weren't here." Rebecca started laughing.

  "In that case, okay. I can't really afford to lose the income, so if Kyle doesn't mind watching the place for a few hours, I'd be totally open to that. Now Leo, on the other hand…"

  "Don't worry. You just be ready tomorrow morning around nine o'clock. I'll come by here, and I will convince him that hanging out with us for the day is his best option."

  "Well, you must be a magician then."

  "Maybe I am."

  Without warning, he leaned down and ga
ve her a quick kiss on the cheek before smiling, turning and walking out the door. She was left there stunned, holding her cheek with her right hand. Had Jackson Parker really just kissed her? What on earth was going on in her life?

  Chapter 8

  Jackson walked around the side of the building and leaned against the cool brick. What in the world did he just do? He was only here for a short time visiting family for Thanksgiving, but he seemed to be unable to keep away from Rebecca. There was no question that she came with a whole lot of baggage, and he didn't have time for that right now. He had a business to run back in Atlanta and deals that were blowing up, but suddenly he didn't care as much about all that.

  “Hey, Jackson. Everything okay?” He looked up and noticed Tessa walking down the sidewalk in front of him.

  “Oh. Hi, Tessa. Yeah. I'm fine.” He sounded shaken, and he wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was the fact that he'd just kissed Rebecca Evans on the cheek or that he had promised her he was going to get her son to agree to come to the island with them tomorrow.

  “I don't know you very well yet, Jackson, but you sure don't seem fine. You look like you just saw a ghost.” She was offering him a sweet smile and touching his shoulder.

  “Actually, I am a little more anxious this morning than normal.” He smiled and put his hands in his pockets.

  “Does this have anything to do with Rebecca Evans?” She asked crossing her arms and jutting her hip out. How did women always know stuff like that? It was like they were mind readers. Maybe men just weren’t as complicated as they hoped they were.

  “Why would you say that?” he asked trying to keep a smile off his face.

  “Because I saw how you acted around her on Thanksgiving. She put you on edge, for sure. I consider myself to be a pretty good judge of character, and I think you have the hots for Rebecca Evans.” She wagged her finger at him and laughed.

  “I'm not sure if I like you anymore.”

  “That's okay. You’ll learn to love me. How about we go take a walk on the pier and chat? I might be able to help you.” He thought about it for a moment. Did he really want to take a walk and chat about Rebecca? For some strange reason, he did.