by Cindi Madsen
“Well, I’m not asking as the girl you’re sleeping with. I’m asking as your bartender. I’ve heard it all, so go ahead.”
He took a swig, then he talked about permits and this guy he had to work with who always made things way harder than necessary, and some other industry speak that I couldn’t completely follow, but I could tell he was passionate about it. That was what I was looking for in a career. Something I cared enough about to get into fights over permits so I could make my clients happy.
Or, you know, a version of that.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“Yes, actually.” He picked up my hand and slid his fingers between mine so that our palms met. “Thanks for listening, random bartender.”
I grinned at him, then leaned a little closer, enjoying the zips of electricity that shot up my arm and traveled right to my core.
I was considering closing the mere inches between us and kissing him when movement at the door caught my attention. His sister and my cousin stepped inside, and I quickly straightened, pulling my hand free of Jackson’s grip.
“What are you doing here?” Savannah asked, addressing Jackson—obviously she knew what I was doing here. “I just got off the phone with Mama, and she was wondering where you were. She said she thought you were going to be at the house. Caroline was there.”
I told myself not to look for Jackson’s reaction to her name, but I’d done it automatically. He remained impassive and impossible to read. “She asked if I’d come over…”
What? That hussy asked him to come over?
“…and I told her I didn’t know if I’d have time with the stuff I needed to finish up at work, but you know Ma.”
Oh. His mom. Not a hussy and now I feel bad for thinking that, even if I’m also annoyed that she’s still pushing the Caroline thing. I had to uncurl the fist I didn’t even realize I’d made.
“Why doesn’t she understand that work is a valid excuse for not stopping by? Especially on a random Tuesday night?” Savannah slid onto the stool next to him and smiled at me. “Hey.”
“Lemon martini?”
“She wants my famous bourbon peach cocktail,” Linc said.
Savannah looked like she wanted to argue, but she finally gave in. “Actually, I would.”
“Beer?” I asked Linc, who nodded, and then my gaze skipped to Jackson. “Another?”
“Sure, thanks.”
The annoying drunk guy hollered at me as I filled the drinks, calling me “sweetheart” and making comments on my ass, but I ignored him—clearly he’d had enough to drink already. On my way over to my friends, I slid him a glass of water, which he balked at, but I was on the other side of the bar before he could form a proper complaint.
As I neared, I overheard Savannah trying to pry information from Jackson about whether or not he was still interested in Caroline, and I perked up my ears.
“So how’s the remodel going?” Linc asked me, making it impossible to hear Jackson’s answer, but it sounded like he was freezing out his sister on the dating front. Not that I blamed him. I loved Savannah, but she couldn’t help getting involved and adding her opinion.
Unfortunately, I already knew her thoughts on the subject. She thought they could make it work if he gave it a real chance. While my best friend was a bit overenthusiastic when it came to dating advice, she was rarely wrong about relationships. Unless it involved her personally—then she was a little blind and too stringent about her rules.
Not that I had room to talk. I was ignoring several of mine while fooling around with a guy who’d said himself that he was trying to want what was good for him, and I wasn’t it. I’d said I wouldn’t get in the way and I was, and I couldn’t seem to help myself, even though I knew better.
“Ivy?”
Right. Linc asked about the remodel. “It’s coming along nicely. You should stop by sometime. The place looks totally different.”
“And working with Jackson?” Linc arched an eyebrow, and I wondered if I was caught. All this time I’d been trying to hide from Savannah when I should’ve been worried about my cousin. Especially since he’d tell his fiancée.
I treaded carefully, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. “It’s going better than expected. He definitely knows what he’s doing.” I thought about his hands on my body and then worked to quickly redirect my thoughts. “He’s infuriating as ever but good at his job.”
That eyebrow arched higher, and I raised one right back. My time with Jackson was limited, and I planned on selfishly clinging to every last minute. I told myself then I could say, Well, it’s been fun, and let him go.
My body betrayed me, hopping the fence to cause lung-squeezing panic over us ending as opposed to its usual stance against commitment. Add the jealousy over thinking of him settling down with one of the Carolines of the world and my insides were revolting.
Savannah twisted toward Linc and placed her hand on his arm, while her gaze remained on the screen of her phone. “Remind me, did you like the ranunculus bouquet or the magnolia one for the centerpieces? Apparently it’s vital that my mom and Aunt Velma know right this very second.”
Speaking of panic, I could see it in Linc’s eyes—served him right for using that eyebrow on me to try to make me spill my guts. “Um, the ones with flowers?”
The two of them started discussing pros and cons of each of the options—i.e, Savannah talked while Linc tried to keep up—and I cast a smile at Jackson, wanting a coconspirator to laugh with me about the floral drama. Only he was on the phone, shaking his head.
“…can’t make it tonight, Ma. I told you that I probably wouldn’t…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because I have a job and a house of my very own that gets lonely without me…I know I missed Sunday dinner, but I’ll be there next Sunday, I promise.” He paused, then glanced up at me and caught me eavesdropping. “We’ll talk about that later…I’m planning on it. As long as—” Resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. Yeah, love you, too.” He nodded a couple more times and then hung up.
“Did you miss an important date?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“I’m where I want to be,” he said, his eyes leveled on me, and heat uncurled in my stomach.
“Was that Mom?” Savannah asked, and I straightened and wiped what she would call a twitterpated smile off my face. “How can she be texting me every five seconds and be on the phone with you?”
“I’m going to go do my job while you guys discuss the mysteries of your mother and her powers of meddling in both of your lives at once.” I tapped the bar and moved away from them. What I needed to do more than my job was distract myself from the overwhelming feelings I was experiencing before they went and got me in trouble.
I filled a few drink orders and then checked glasses, even though it was slow and I knew we had plenty. When I turned around, Savannah stood in front of me, but her attention was on riffling through her purse. Finally, she found whatever she was looking for and glanced up. “I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow, so Linc and I are going to call it a night. I just wanted to say good-bye.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
Savannah hesitated, something in her posture making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. “We still need to have a talk about your new guy…” She glanced at her brother, and I was sure I was caught, and I hoped that she would forgive me, but I just knew a lecture was in my future at the least. “We really need a girl’s night sometime to catch up without the guys around.”
Oh. A girl’s night. It was only a coincidence that she glanced at her brother, and obviously I have a guilty conscience.
“Totally,” I said, my telltale heart thumping like crazy.
“But no dance clubs. Last time was…” She shook her head. “I’d just rather have a night in. Just us.”
Last time I’d been in an awful funk and decided my life needed a shakeup. A big part of dragging her to that club with me had been an attempt to deal with my ugly fallout with Jackson.
I’d told myself that once I met some other hot guys, I could forget about the one still on my mind. Sadly, it hadn’t worked, not even a little.
What if I’m setting myself up for another funk? I couldn’t help thinking I was trying a little too hard to convince myself this temporary arrangement wouldn’t end the same devastating way. Spending longer together this time around might only make the after part worse.
“No dancing, I promise,” I said. “Well, unless it’s in the privacy of our living rooms.”
“Deal.” Savannah leaned over the bar to hug me. “Do me a favor?” she asked.
“Anything for you.”
“Just…go easy on my brother. I can tell he’s stressed out right now, which means he might be a little short tempered and grumpy, but he means well.”
Dammit. I wanted to spill my guts like the guilty person I was. “I will. We actually work surprisingly well together, as long as one of us takes charge per room and the other is just the helper.”
Savannah laughed. “I can see that.”
Linc came over and wrapped his arm around Savannah’s shoulders, and then they walked out of the bar, leaving me, Jackson, and a few leftover drunk people.
A quick glance at my watch also told me I had an hour left on my shift before balancing tills and the cleanup that’d take about another hour. I wanted to throw in my towel for the day, hop across the bar, and crawl into Jackson’s lap.
But that would be frowned upon. Besides, it had only been about twenty-four hours since I’d been in that position. How could I be missing him, even with him right there?
I finally decided to stop being a wimp and go indulge in some more conversation with a guy who could keep up with me. Possibly even handle me, not that I’d ever admit that to him. “How you doing?”
Jackson exhaled and lifted heavy-lidded eyes to me. “Wishing I was in a certain living room, pinning a certain blonde against a wall.”
I swallowed, finding the gesture harder than usual. “I do like a guy who doesn’t bother to mince words.”
“No word mincing here.” He scooted closer, his hand covering mine. “Now, where were we before my sister came in…”
“Hey, sweetheart! I need a refill!”
Oh great, Drunky McGee is getting belligerent. To punctuate my point, he slammed his glass down on the bar and raised his voice. “Are you deaf? I need a refill, toots.”
Who knew guys actually used toots anymore? I glanced over my shoulder, hoping Jesse would step in, but he must’ve gone on his break or headed into the kitchen to talk with the guys.
“Need me to take care of that?” Jackson asked, the line of his jaw tightening.
“I got it.” I sighed and pushed away. I told the guy I was calling his belligerent ass a cab—in nicer, customer friendly terms, of course. He swore at me, but that was nothing new. While I was in the vicinity, I decided to round the bar and go close out my other tabs. The nights when it was slow, where we covered both the tables and the bar, were always my least favorite, especially since they moved at that crappy molasses pace.
On the way back, mere steps from being back on the better side of the bar, Drunky McGee nearly toppled his stool so he could smack my butt as I passed by.
I whirred around and jabbed a finger in his face. “Touch me again, and I’ll make you a soprano for life.”
He was clearly too stupid to get my meaning, but before I could expound, Jackson was right next to me.
I put a hand on his chest, holding him back. “I told you, I’ve got this.”
“But I want to get it.”
I held firm. “This is something I deal with all the time. I can handle myself.”
“I know you can. But it’s okay to have help sometimes.”
“If I need help, I’ll let you know.”
Jackson looked like he wanted to argue, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to spring, but when I applied a little more pressure against his chest, he gradually backed down. A whole two or three inches. He played sentinel as I convinced Drunky McGee to pay his tab—I hinted a generous tip was in order and, since his math skills were greatly impaired, helped him with his addition—and wrestled him into a cab.
I tried not to be irritated that Jackson followed me outside for that last part, but at the same time, it was nice. But I couldn’t get used to it, and I could handle it myself, and it definitely fell on more of the boyfriend side of the line than the hookup side.
As the cab pulled away, I smoothed a hand down my shirt, caught my breath, and slowly turned to Jackson. “You can’t just loom like an overprotective, jealous boyfriend while I’m at work.”
Jackson’s eyebrows drew low over his eyes. “This isn’t jealousy; it’s concern.” He swept his arm toward the bar. “I don’t understand why one of the other guys couldn’t have handled it. How often do you end up alone like that?”
There were plenty of nights Jesse or Dan goofed around out back or in the kitchen, leaving me to mostly go it alone. They came if I got busy enough to text for help, and it meant more tips so I didn’t mind. While I hadn’t even seen him tonight, I was sure Tony was in his office as usual, not paying attention because it was quiet. But there was no reason to explain any of that to Jackson, because that wasn’t the point. “This is part of my job, and I can handle it.”
“Oh, so now you’re a bouncer, too?”
I crossed my arms. “Yes.”
He crossed his right back. “Fine. Then I’ll be your back-up bouncer.”
“You can’t be here every night.”
He took a step closer. “Wanna make a bet?”
I opened my mouth, but before I could figure out what to say, the door swung open and Jesse looked out at me. “Just checking on you.”
“Oh, now you check on her,” Jackson mumbled.
“I’m fine,” I said, a little too loudly and too defensively, but I was done with whatever was going on, especially since I didn’t even understand it. How could we get into a fight over me doing my job?
I strode past Jesse, pushed into Azure, and checked on my last table on the way to the bar.
And when I finally reached my post, I hated how everything inside me still felt too heavy and thick and wrong. Hated that I’d fought with Jackson after having such a great start to the night. So much for understanding he was stressed and giving him a break like Savannah asked me to, and so much for him being here every night.
Not that I wanted that anyway.
Chapter Eighteen
I didn’t know exactly how to act the next morning when Jackson came in. I knew he was upset about last night because he was gruff and short with his words, but when I tried to bring it up, he’d held up a hand and said, “Let’s not get into it.”
So we didn’t. We didn’t talk at all. Just went to work in different rooms. I took the upstairs while he tiled the downstairs bathroom.
Black Widow followed me as I moved from task to task, meowing back when I talked to her. She seemed antsy, which wasn’t something I thought a cat was capable of portraying, but she was up and down and constantly meowing at me, and if she were a dog, I’d ask if Timmy fell in the well.
“What is it?” I squatted and scratched under her chin. “Is your boyfriend driving you crazy, too? I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend, but calling him a tomcat seems a bit mean, since he was trying to be chivalrous, I suppose. But girls like us, we don’t need chivalry, do we?”
Black Widow meowed, but I couldn’t translate if she was agreeing or disagreeing.
“Maybe certain guys need to be chivalrous, whether ladies appreciate it or not.” The deep voice made me jump, and I dropped the putty knife I’d been using to patch the master bedroom wall. “And I’m not going to just stand by and let some guy treat my girl like that, even if it means she’s gonna throw a damn hissy fit.”
I shot Jackson a scowl. “I don’t even know where to start with that. I’m not your girl, you were the one throwing a hissy fit, as I recall, and I can’t believe you were ea
vesdropping on our private conversation.”
He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “I can’t believe you get upset that I care about your safety.”
Black Widow meowed.
“I care about yours, too,” Jackson said to her, and affection swirled through the frustration.
I tried to bite back my smile, but I couldn’t help it. Staying mad just for the sake of winning felt more like losing, and I decided it didn’t have to be a big deal if we didn’t make it into one. I straightened and walked over to him. His muscles tensed as I neared, his apprehension clear, which almost made me laugh. Then it made me wonder what he expected me to say or do.
I placed my hand on his arm. “Look, I don’t want to be upset anymore. We don’t have long to enjoy our”—I dragged my finger back and forth across that sexy line in his forearm—“benefits arrangement, and I don’t want to spend it fighting.”
Jackson peered down at me, his pupils darkening. “I’m thinking of another F-word I’d rather spend it doing.”
“Why, Jackson Gamble, you call that chivalry?”
He hooked his finger in my belt loop and tugged me to him. “It’s impossible to be a gentleman all the time.” A spike of heat shot through me as he dropped kisses along my jaw. He dragged his nose across my cheek and captured my lips with his. But before I could fully catch hold and move the kiss to the next level, he pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Would it really be so bad for someone to care about you?”
“Yes,” I automatically said as my lungs went to collapsing on themselves.
He sighed. “Ivy.”
“Jackson.” I smoothed a hand down his chest, trying to find the right balance to keep him close but not too close. “That’s not what this thing between us is about.”
He covered my hand, pressing it flatter against him. “I can’t just turn caring about you off like a switch. Believe me, I tried…”
My throat tightened, but I told myself not to freak out. Just smooth over the situation instead of turning a molehill into a big-ass mountain. “Fine. I’ll take it as a…friend.”