Nailed It

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Nailed It Page 28

by Cindi Madsen


  At that, she couldn’t help but let out a victorious, whispered, “Yes!”

  “I’m also kind-of, sort-of, totally in love with him.” I bit my lip, just saying it out loud sending happiness swirling through me, even as gnawing worry came on its heels—after decades of doubt, it refused to just go away simply because I wanted it to. “But what if I try, only to discover that my original theories were right?”

  “Then I guess you have to make a choice,” Savannah said, and I held my breath, waiting to hear my options. “Would you rather be right, or would you rather be in love?”

  When she put it like that, it made it easy.

  Love. I choose love.

  While I’d flirted with optimism before, this time I was going to commit to it. Time to prove I was as strong as Jackson believed I was. I knew exactly what I wanted. I even knew what my first step would be. I just hoped that it would be enough and that I wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Are you freaking kidding me?

  Can’t the universe just do me a solid and make this a tiny bit easier instead of harder?

  I’d hit snag after snag in my plan. After spending several hours at the bank yesterday morning, I’d failed to gain the one thing I’d so badly wanted to add to my declaration. I’d wanted that physical proof, because honestly, I could use all the help I could get.

  Not all hope was lost on that front, but my gesture this afternoon wasn’t going to be quite as big as I wanted it to be.

  If I ever got there, that was, because the flashing red and blue lights behind me made me wonder how many karma gods I’d managed to piss off. It was like life was trying to beat the crap out of me before I could make things right.

  This is what I get for waiting so long.

  What I get for—

  The knock on the window nearly made me jump out of my dress. I’d bought this one specially for this evening, going so far as to choose a longer hemline that hit my knees, which might work against me in my current situation.

  I rolled down the window and flashed the officer my most charming yet innocent smile. For good measure, I twirled a strand of hair around my finger—I’d worn it wild and wavy, the way Jackson liked, although the officer seemed pretty unaffected, a scowl permanently etched on his harsh features. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”

  “You were going fifteen over the speed limit.”

  Right. This is what I get for being in such a hurry to tell the man I love that, well, I love him.

  Couldn’t the powers-that-be see that I was trying? That I could use a break?

  “License and registration,” Mr. Not-so-friendly Officer of the Law said, extending his palm. He squinted at me and then frowned at the bottle of rather expensive wine in my front seat. “Have you been drinking?”

  I fought back the urge to ask if it looked uncorked to him—there was also a slight temptation to offer it to him, just to see if we could speed this along. “No, I haven’t. And I’m sorry about the speeding, it’s just that…” Obviously flirting wasn’t going to get me anywhere so I decided to appeal to his empathetic side, hoping he had one. “You see, I’m on my way to tell my…well, he’s not my boyfriend, but he was a few weeks ago, but then I messed it up, but even then he told me he loved me—can you believe that? And now I’m on my way to make it right, because I love him, too. But I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  My nerves stretched to the fraying point, and I’m sure the wild gleam in my eye only made the cop more suspicious. I grinned, and that only made the distrust in his expression grow. “Never gone all out to tell a guy I love him, I mean,” I said. “Not the speeding part. Not that I normally go around speeding—safety first, I swear.”

  “Have you taken anything? You’re talking about as fast as you were driving.”

  “Just caffeine. In liquid form, a la Cherry Coke.” How had I ever thought of myself as smooth? That was the last word I would use to describe me right now, which only made me worry about the giant declaration I was about to make. If the officer would stop asking twenty questions and just give me a ticket already—I was past thinking I could talk him out if it, so now I simply wanted him to give it to me and let me go.

  Better not say it like that, I thought, even though I wasn’t about to ask him to hurry. I had a feeling that’d only piss him off and convince him that he needed to assert his authority over me.

  “Sit tight while I go run this,” he said, lifting my license and registration.

  Sit tight. Like I could even do that at a time like this.

  Great. Now instead of showing up before dinner, I’m going to be crashing right in the middle, which won’t help with winning over his mom and Velma. If I even have a chance of that after what they witnessed at Savannah’s bridal shower.

  While tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel, I mentally ran over everything I wanted to say to Jackson. Like every other time I’d tried to lay it out, it always came out jumbled, one thought merging into another before I could finish it. Last night in my condo I’d even practiced in front of my herd of cats, feeling like an idiot the whole time, and big surprise, their judgmental expressions didn’t help. Hoping it’d magically come out better once he was standing in front of me was preposterous, so it was a good thing I’d fully committed to optimism. Even if the bitch was making it hard to stay faithful.

  No one had been more in the way of Jackson and me than myself, so loan officers and uptight cops could go ahead and try, but I wasn’t giving up.

  My phone rang from its position in my console, and I picked it up, answering when I saw Savannah’s name.

  “We’re about to start dinner,” she whispered, leading me to believe she must’ve stepped aside to make the call while everyone else was heading to the table. “Where are you?”

  I rested my elbow on the top of my door and pressed my fingers to my forehead, trying to fight off the oncoming headache that was equal parts frustration and anxiety. “With a cop who has a stick up his ass. I’m pretty sure he’s writing me a ticket.”

  “Actually, he wrote a warning after seeing that you didn’t have anything on your record,” he said, and I jumped, nearly dropping my phone in the process.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “But it just got upgraded to a speeding citation,” he said. “And now you get to walk a straight line for me, too. Let’s see how you do considering all that caffeine you drank.”

  Spoiler alert: in these five-inch heels, between my nerves and the gravel on the side of the road, it was going to be wobbly.

  “Can I just tell my friend—”

  The officer swung open my door. “Out now, ma’am.”

  Well, at least the universe had answered my plea about doing me a solid and making this easier. Unfortunately for me, it was with a resounding no.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  After walking in a straight line while touching my nose and reciting the alphabet backward—which hello, who can do that quickly without the song?—I could think of a dozen better tricks to find out if people were over the alcohol limit. But he knew I wasn’t drunk, so it was a power trip involving wasting as much of my time as possible. Anyway, to say my optimism and mood hadn’t been beat up would be a lie.

  I almost said screw it, turned around, and headed for home, postponing my attempt to win back my man another time. Like, say, when I felt less stabby. But I didn’t think I could handle anything else karma decided to throw at me, so I decided I’d better fix things with Jackson ASAP. I couldn’t think of the other option—I wouldn’t let myself.

  I thought I’d already been at maximum nervousness, but as soon as I parked behind the other cars lining the Gambles’ driveway, the nauseating swirl in my gut upped it to the next level. So glad to be proved wrong about that.

  My feet hurt from walking around in front of the cop, and if someone in the neighborhood hadn’t seen me and reported it to either Lucinda or Velma by now, I’d be shocked. The headlights and flash
ing lights had done a great job of spotlighting me, after all.

  Oh, crap. The wine. I backtracked and grabbed it out of the passenger seat. It probably wouldn’t help as much now that I was so late, but I needed something in my hands to help with the trembling anyway.

  Every window glowed a warm yellow, and I could imagine the Gamble family seated around the table. Considering my epically bad luck, Caroline would probably be there as well, along with her parents. And Jackson would’ve decided that he was done waiting for me to pull my head out and picked tonight of all nights to take my advice and go for her, leaving me an hour too late.

  Savannah would definitely interfere before letting that happen. That thought, along with her pep talk two nights ago, gave me the strength to ring the doorbell.

  I smoothed a hand down my hair, hoping I didn’t look as beat up as I felt.

  Savannah answered the door, and I nearly burst into tears at the sight of her—I had no idea how badly I needed a friendly face until I saw hers. “Oh, hon.” She threw her arms around me and hugged me, and I squeezed her right back. “I thought it would be you. I’m glad I nearly tripped my dad in order to be the one to answer the door. Are you okay?”

  “Well, after thirty minutes of proving I’m not drunk and getting a hefty speeding ticket, I’m not great, but I think I’m okay. I’m super nervous, though. Why did I decide to do this at your parents’ house with your entire family here?”

  “Because love makes us do crazy things. You’re talking to the girl who climbed onto a stool in front of an entire bar-full of people—some of whom were my clients—and poured out her heart to win back the guy she loved.”

  “At least I’m in good company.”

  “And if it makes you feel better, I’m an even better coach than a dater.” She scrunched up her nose. “Is dater a word?”

  “Focus, Savannah. I need you with me.” I tried to peek through to the dining room, but I could only see the kids’ table. On the bright side, Evan flashed me a thumbs-up. Even though he didn’t know what I was about to do, I still took that as a good omen. “So your hot, infuriating, sexy, perfect brother is in there?”

  “I’m not sure about all those adjectives, but yeah. He’s in there.”

  I lifted my chin. “Here goes everything.” I strode into the room, and several people looked up at me. I think they were expecting Savannah, who’d stopped a few feet behind me—either as a sign of support or blocking my exit or perhaps both—and some of them did double takes.

  Jackson shuttered his expression, the warmth draining from his easy smile, and my stomach dropped all the way down to my shoes. I’m too late.

  No, I can’t be. I can fix it. I have to fix it.

  I cleared my throat. “Hi, everybody. Sorry I’m late. Not that I was, um, officially invited, but I did plan to crash on time if that makes it any better. And I brought wine.” I lifted it like they’d need proof, and with me, maybe they did.

  Blinks all around. Except for Aunt Velma—she had a pursed-lipped expression. Yeah, sorry not sorry for messing up your plans to set up your nephew with the perfect girl from the perfect family.

  I set the bottle on the table and turned to Jackson. My heart knotted, and adoration and attraction surged to the forefront. He looked so sexy, hair combed back, jaw fresh-shaven and kissable, and green eyes trained on me. From this angle standing above him, I noticed the top button on his gray button-down was undone but hidden by the navy tie I wanted to yank on to get him to stand up and wrap his hard body around me.

  Which I supposed would be inappropriate considering the present company, especially the kids, who were taking advantage of the distraction by piling vegetables into napkins.

  I nearly laughed, and I knew it would come out sounding completely maniacal. Laughing would be so much easier than words, though. I wrung my hands together, and if the heat in my face was any indication, it was bright red. “Do you guys think you could excuse Jackson for just a minute?”

  “Sure, dear,” Lucinda said. “I’ll set a plate for you, too.”

  “Better hold off on that just yet.” Because if this attempt to make things right went down in fiery flames, I was fleeing for sure.

  Jackson slowly stood, and I tilted my head toward the other room. He led the way with long strides that I worked to keep up with, and as I passed by her, Savannah slapped my ass.

  “Go get ‘em, girl,” she whispered, and I heard both her mom and Velma scolding her for such a rude gesture.

  Jackson spun to face me, and I nearly ran into him—I didn’t know we were stopping already. He put his hands on my waist to steady me, then yanked them away like touching me had burned him.

  Why didn’t he look happier? Why didn’t he look…anything? He changed his mind. I’m about to pour out my heart, and he’s going to tell me he’s over it. Over me.

  Wait. That’s not very optimistic. Shit, shit, shit.

  He crossed his arms, and it made his shirt pull tighter across his chest and exposed a few inches of his sexy wrists. Who knew wrists could be sexy?

  Focus, Ivy. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he said, his voice not betraying what was going on in his head right now.

  “So how’ve you been?” Ugh, why couldn’t I get my mouth to cooperate? This wasn’t how I was supposed to start my big speech. Come on. We practiced this.

  “Really, Ivy? To be honest, kind of shitty.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His face fell, the first hint of emotion he’d let show.

  “I mean, I’m sorry it took me so long.” I started to reach for him and then pulled back my hand. “The truth is I was scared. Terrified, actually. I’m not good at relationships, and I’ve tried so hard to keep my heart protected. Then you come along, and I know you said that you knocked down one brick wall only to find another, but one wall was enough for you to get in.” My voice caught, and I had to work to keep going. “Renovating that house with you…it was amazing, and I loved every second. Even though you also drive me crazy. Seriously, you’re the most infuriating person I know.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up.

  “But you’re also sweet and fiercely protective and way more patient than I deserve, and then there’s the dead-sexy thing.”

  The other side of his mouth got in on the smile.

  I stepped closer to him, so close only a breath separated our bodies, yet it was still too much space. I reached up and ran my hand down the side of his face, leaving my palm against his warm skin. “You asked me to put my faith in you, and you should know that it’s not that I don’t have faith in you. Because I do.” Crap, how could the waterworks be attempting to break free already? I was barely started with everything I wanted to say. Blinking as fast as I could, I blew out a breath. “I just didn’t have faith in me, and because of that, I knew there couldn’t be an us.”

  “Ivy—”

  I moved my fingertips over his lips. I was finally getting going, and if he spoke, I’d lose my momentum and everything I wanted to say and most likely the thin thread of control on my emotions, too. “Anyway, that was what I thought. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how even though that house held most of my happiest childhood memories, the ones I’d made there with you over the past couple months were even happier. Then Dixie got an offer on the house, and I panicked. Because it’s our house. It’s where I fell in love with you.

  “So I begged her not to take the offer and to let me buy it instead. I want to live there with you and to build a future with you. But I’d need…” I swallowed my pride and shoved every ounce of courage I had into the next word. “Help. I’d need your help. I really wanted to hold up a deed and show you that I bought our house and wanted to live there with you, but the bank won’t let me buy it without an offer on the condo, since my salary also fluctuates so much, and to be honest, even with my new job, I’m not a hundred percent sure I can afford the monthly payments by myself.”

  My heart beat so hard and fast that I swore it
was about to burst out of my chest, but finally my mouth was cooperating, so I kept talking just as hard and fast. “But it doesn’t even have to be that house if you don’t want to live there. My main point is that more than anything, I want to be with you and go home every night to you, and I just need you, Jackson. And also, in case I didn’t say it already, because I’m starting to lose track of what I practiced saying, and what I actually ended up saying…” I inhaled a deep breath and let it out. “I’m in love with you. I love you so much it scares me, but I’m not going to let that stop me anymore.”

  A weight lifted off me now that I’d finally told him everything, and it felt like I’d taken my first full breath in weeks.

  And like everyone had earlier when I crashed their family dinner, he just blinked at me.

  “Am I too late? Is it crazy to think that we should buy a house and move in together so soon? I know it’s a big step, but I’m ready for a big step with you. If you are. If not, then I can just live in the house, and maybe eventually—”

  Jackson yanked me to him and crashed his lips into mine. He kissed me like he meant to memorize every inch of my mouth, while his hands were working on getting reacquainted with my body. It immediately responded, wanting more while thinking this had to be a dream. I couldn’t have everything I wanted, could I?

  That was when I reminded myself I was optimistic now and threw myself more fully into his embrace and the mind-blowing kiss.

  “You scared me for a second,” I said when we came up for air. “I thought you were going to say I was too late.”

  “For a second?” Jackson reached up and brushed his thumb across my tingly lower lip. “You scared me for three long, awful weeks. When you told my mom not to set a place for you, I was sure you were about to reiterate that we were over for good.”

  “As I recall, I tried telling you that before and you didn’t listen.” I bit his thumb, and he groaned.

  Then he glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “I better be careful. I bet my entire family’s eavesdropping.”

 

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