by Joanna Blake
About Casey. About how our lives had changed when she got sick. About how I had just agreed to go on a date. I tried to imagine what kind of guy I would meet out here in the country. What kind of guy would want to even date me.
I used to be considered a catch. But look at me now. Wearing dirty jeans. I hadn't had a manicure or a blow out in a year. I shrugged. What did it matter? I had said I would go out with someone if they asked.
It wasn't my fault if no one did.
Even though he was the last man on earth I wanted to go out with, his image kept popping up in my mind. His cool gray blue eyes. His broad shoulders. His strong jaw and handsome face.
His smug, smirking, handsome face.
Jackson Delancey.
Chapter Five
Jackson
"Mornin' Jackson, you here for that fencing?"
I nodded, tossing a couple of boxes of nails onto the counter. We had plenty of employees to do the work on the estate, but I liked to be the one to order the supplies. I let Mrs. Garretty handle the household stuff, but when it came to the horses, stables and paddock, it was all me.
There was a reason my brothers called me a control freak.
Peter looked up from behind the cashier and flushed. He stammered, his eyes glued to someone standing behind me. I had a sudden feeling I knew just who it was.
"I'm sorry Miss Randall, we're out of the patch kits. I looked everywhere."
"Please, call me Angelina."
My head turned to the side before I knew what I was doing. My whole damn body swiveled toward the sound of her voice. I could not help but smile when I saw her standing beside me.
She had that damn kerchief on her head again. It should have looked silly but it didn't. For some damn reason it looked sexy as hell. So did her designer denim overalls. They hugged her bottom and showed off the round shape of her luscious tits. I let out a low whistle. Those melons were definitely a healthy handful, even for a big man like me.
"AHEM."
I lifted my eyes to meet her flashing green ones. In the darkness the gold was hardly visible at all. I realized you could only see the sparkly bits in the sun or a bright light. It felt like a secret, knowing that about her.
She was adorable.
She was also not at all pleased to have caught me checking out her jugs.
My smiled widened.
"Miss Randall."
She glared at me. I raised my eyebrows, waiting for her to tell me to call her Angelina.
She didn't.
"It's Ms. I'm not a schoolgirl."
Pete let out a sharp bark of laughter. Now it was my turn to glare at him. But only for a second. It was next to impossible to keep my eyes off her.
I decided not to fight it.
In fact, I decided that I was going to bed her. Tonight. It was the only way to get her out of my system. Which meant I should probably stop deliberately antagonizing her. I changed tactics, giving her my most charming smile.
"What's the patch for?"
She scowled at me, which only made her look cuter. Damn if the woman didn't look good no matter what she was doing. I had a feeling she would look good digging a damn ditch. Especially if she was pissed about having to do it.
She reminded me of an angry, adorable hissing little kitten.
I shook my head. Cute as they were, kittens were known for having sharp claws. And teeth.
"Everything in the house is leaking! There's a leak over the porch. In the attic. And one of the pipes is leaking into the basement every time we use the bath."
I closed my eyes, imagining her in the bath. Her face would be soft and her eyes closed as her big juicy breasts bobbed on the surface of the water. I pictured myself leaning down and bobbing for apples. I'd take a little nip before I pulled her nipple into my mouth and...
I opened my eyes to find that she was watching me suspiciously. I realized I had looked like an idiot. I was literally grinning like a kid in a candy shop.
It was a good thing she had no clue what I was thinking. I leaned against the counter and smiled at her, hoping to set her mind at ease. A woman had to trust a man to let him between her thighs.
Her sweet, plump, silky thighs.
"I know a good plumber if you need one. And a good roofer. Hell, I know just about everybody around here."
She looked surprised at the offer and then she shrugged.
"Thanks but Pete already gave me a list."
For some reason that raised my hackles. She'd been here a handful of days and Pete was already doing her favors? Pete's family had owned the feed and supply store for generations. I liked Pete, even if he couldn't ride a horse for shit.
Squash that.
I used to like Pete.
Pete was watching the exchange with glee. He was obviously thrilled to watch Jackson Delancey crash and burn with a woman. Hell, I couldn't blame him. It's not like it ever happened before.
Not even once.
I decided to put a big dent in his day. I grabbed my nails and signed the invoice for the fencing. Then I turned back to Angelina and spoke loud enough so Pete would be sure to hear.
"Suit yourself Ms. Randall. I'll see you at dinner tonight."
I winked at Pete as I turned and walked away, whistling.
He did not look happy at all.
Even he knew he didn't stand a chance against a Delancey.
Angelina
"Wear the green one."
"What?"
"The green top. It brings out your eyes."
I was riffling through one of the cardboard wardrobe boxes still in the living room. I looked around. The house looked like a war zone. And none of the workmen I'd called were available to come for at least a week.
Or longer.
At least there wasn't any mold in the house itself. We would know because Casey reacted to it immediately. Sensitivities to chemicals, strong odors and mold was another charming side effect of the drug's toxicity.
We joked that we could loan ourselves out to real estate companies.
'Casey the Mold Detector' and 'Angelina the Spider Hunter.'
We made quite a team.
I turned up the hepa air filter in the living room just to be safe. Then I went into her bedroom and turned that purifier up too. The lights flickered slightly and I groaned and called out to Case.
"Add electrician to the list!"
She chuckled as I came back into the room. She'd dutifully jotted it down on the yellow pad that was becoming a very long, very intimidating list. The fact that she always found humor in every situation was one of the things I loved about her the most.
Most people would bitch and moan about what she'd been through. Or worse, they would give up and just consign themselves to life as an invalid. But Casey was strong. Even in the darkest moments, she didn't get bitter.
She also didn't give up.
And if she didn't, well, I couldn't either.
It was a funny thing to look up to your little sister.
I grabbed the green silk tank and my favorite jeans without really thinking about it. Then I pulled on a drapey knit cardigan. I slipped my feet into some high-heeled booties and I was done.
"No makeup? None of your jewelry?"
I looked at Case.
"I told you this isn't a date."
Casey raised an eyebrow at me.
"Well, I want to look pretty even if you don't. Anyway, you promised to give things a chance around here. Even with the cowboy."
I sighed and got out my tiny makeup bag. I wiped everything off with an all-natural disinfectant wipe before I started working on Casey's pretty face. The last thing she needed was an infection.
I turned on one of Casey's favorite playlists and leaned over her, carefully smudging some stain onto her lips and cheeks. Then I ran a soft brown pencil over her eyelid.
She fluttered her eyelashes at me and I laughed.
"Your turn."
"Alright you win."
"I always do. One of the
perks of being the sick one!"
I shook my head at her twisted sense of humor and slipped into the bathroom to apply a tiny bit of makeup. Then I rummaged through a box until I found some of my jewelry. I didn't have much left, having sold most of the most expensive stuff off. But I'd amassed quite a collection at trunk shows in New York back when I had disposable income.
I sighed. I missed those days sometimes. Dinners with friends, weekend trips and happy hour. Shopping for the latest styles without a second thought. But being here with my sister, taking a second chance at life, well that meant more than all the rest of it piled together.
And then some.
I selected a gold bangle for Casey along with a pair of small sapphire studs. Small gold hoops and a necklace with a modern looking evil eye design for me.
If I had to spend the evening with Jackson Delancey, I had a feeling I would need it.
When I presented myself to Casey she let out a low whistle.
"What? You're a fox."
"More like a chihuahah."
I laughed and shook my head, wheeling her out of the house to the car. It took both of us to get her into the seat and buckled in. I climbed in beside her and smiled.
"Might as well get this over with."
"Ange, you promised."
"I will be cordial but I am not going to flirt with the man!"
"Come on Angie, flirt a little."
I sighed as I pulled out onto the main road.
"We'll see."
Chapter Six
Jackson
I was pacing back and forth while I reviewed the plans for the upcoming Fourth of July Horse Show and Picnic. It was one of our most widely attended events and it had to be perfect. I stopped and looked at my audience. Daniel and Jake were staring at me with matching expressions on their faces.
Not attentive, as I expected.
No, they looked amused.
"Have a drink brother. Relax."
Jake stopped Daniel from getting up to pour me a drink. He looked at me strangely, as if I had grown a third head. I frowned at him, starting to get annoyed.
"Are you sure you are recovered Jacks? That was one hell of a hangover you had the other day."
"I'm fine. I can pour my own damn drink."
Just to prove the point I walked to the bar.
"Are you nervous about something Jacks? The girl coming to dinner maybe?"
I turned to stare my cackling brothers into submission.
"Don't be ridiculous. I forgot she was coming. Is that tonight?"
Even Daniel rolled his eyes.
"You never forget anything Jackson. Everyone knows that."
"Forget what?"
Elle and Francesca came into the expansive living room with a fresh bottle of wine and glasses. We had servants of course, but we didn't stand on ceremony here. We got our own damn drinks.
Well, most of the time anyway.
"Nothing."
I was grateful for the interruption but I certainly did not want to open that topic of conversation again. Particularly when she was about to arrive.
Angelina Randall.
The girl had been haunting my thoughts all damn week. It was disconcerting to say the least. I didn't like it. In fact, I hated anything that was out of my control
This girl- and my reaction to her- was definitely not in my control.
Not even close.
DING DONG
I straightened up and walked to the front door. I stopped, my hand on the knob. Maybe I should have let someone else answer the door? Did it make me seem over eager to be the one to let her in?
I shook myself mentally. What the hell was I thinking? I was a man. Men didn't think about this sort of thing. We saw what we wanted and we took it.
I told myself firmly that she was just another girl. A remarkably pretty one, true, but a girl all the same. And a really bitchy one at that.
I forced a cool expression on my face and opened the door.
What I saw there took my breath away.
Angelina Randall looked like a cool drink on a hot day. Fuck, she looked like a cold drink in the middle of the damn Sahara! I could imagine crawling into an oasis and ignoring the water just to get to her.
She didn't just clean up nicely. She cleaned up spectacularly. Her long hair was brushed and loose, flowing over her slender shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling, matching the emerald green top she wore. A top that skimmed over her curves in a tantalizing way, making me want to reach out and touch her.
Her lips were red and kissable. I was staring at them hungrily when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Daniel stepped in front of me and smiled.
"We're so glad you could make it. Please, come in."
Angelina
"My brother is rarely at a loss for words."
We'd been introduced to everyone and were sitting in front of the fireplace in the Delancey's living room. I had to admit, I was a bit overawed by the grandeur of the place. I'd almost let Casey drink her wine before I snatched it out of her hand.
"You know you can't Case."
She shrugged, looking sheepish.
"I know. You should drink it though."
"I'm driving."
Daniel spoke up.
"We can get someone to drive you home between the six of us."
He grinned at me. He was such a nice man. They were all nice.
Except him.
Jackson Delancey had not said one word to me as of yet. No, he was staring at me like I had grown a third eye. I tossed my head, determined to ignore the rude man.
It wasn't easy considering the way he looked in a dress shirt and tight jeans. The shirt was tailored to perfection, cut extra wide to accommodate his thick shoulders. Even so, you could see the bulging muscles beneath plain as day.
"It's not like it's far. Go ahead and enjoy yourself."
Grudgingly I nodded, then took a sip. It was good. Really, really good. It had been a while since I let loose...
"This is delicious, thank you."
Francesca quickly refilled my glass. She was a stunning Italian woman, apparently living here with Daniel. Eleanor was equally beautiful. She was recently engaged to Jake, the youngest brother.
That left Jackson, who was apparently a confirmed bachelor. At least from what his brother's were saying. He was ignoring them.
In fact, he was ignoring everything and everyone.
Except me.
The man hadn't taken his eyes off me since he opened the front door. It was bizarre. But I could feel the weight of his gaze.
His eyes were almost... hot.
"Soup's on!"
I couldn't help but smile at the colorful way Jake Delancey phrased things. I could see tattoos peaking out from under the collar of his shirt. He was big and handsome like his brothers, even if he did look a little bit wild.
But he was clearly sweet as pie and doting on his fiancé.
I noticed that Elle wasn't drinking. And she kept touching her stomach. Jake was very attentive.
I would never pry, but it was clear she was pregnant.
It was also clear that it was a secret.
Everyone was chatting as I sat there, wondering if I would ever have a baby. I tried to image it... a loving husband, a child, a home. And Casey being well of course.
That mattered more than anything.
"Mitochondria."
"What's that?"
"It's a vital part of your cells. In my case they were damaged from a drug I took."
She smiled at me.
"Angie's been taking care of me ever since. And fighting the big pharma companies. And the doctors. She's unstoppable."
Jackson snorted.
"I'll say."
"Jackson!"
"What? It was a compliment."
I watched the brothers squabbling. It seemed like Jackson was not used to being told what to do or say. Everyone stood to go into dinner and I followed suit. I could not help but notice that even though all three
brothers were big and strong, Jackson was just a teensy bit bigger. Taller. Thicker.
More manly.
"Allow me."
He leaned over Casey.
"Do you mind if I escort you?"
She nodded and looked at me over her shoulder as Jackson carefully pushed her chair into the dining room. She was trying to tell me something but I was too distracted to figure out what. I could not help it.
I was too busy watching his ass move in those tight jeans.
I had to admit it.
It was a very, very nice ass.
Chapter Seven
Jackson
Dinner was a drawn out affair. As usual when we had guests, Mrs. G pulled out all the stops. I hadn't told her to do anything special for tonight, but clearly someone had.
Course after course had arrived. Appetizers. Fresh baked bread. Homemade butter. Soup. Salad. A fish course. A pasta course. A meat course. It went on and on all night. Now we were on dessert.
During the meal my brothers and the girls had slowly drawn Angelina out of her self-imposed shell. I was realizing there was more to her than met the eye. She didn't like to talk about herself at all apparently. It's not that she was shy exactly. She was... guarded.
The girl didn't trust easily, that much was obvious. Her sister Casey on the other hand, was a ray of sunshine. Despite everything she'd been through, she was one of the happiest, friendliest people I'd ever met.
Her sister could take a few lessons from her.
I said little, just watching Angelina over the candles. It was hard to look away from her lovely, expressive face. She was self conscious, but not about her looks. She was angry, but not at us. She was worried, but that was natural, considering what they had told us about Casey's story.
Apparently, certain antibiotics could damage tendons, muscles and nerves, right down to the DNA. That's why she was in the chair. But she wasn't giving up.
Neither of them were.
I had to admit to a certain grudging admiration for the fired up way Angelina talked about their mission. They wanted to start an organic farm. No pesticides or anything but what nature intended. No genetically modified crops.