Jackson looked at Grace, who returned his wide-eyed stare. It felt like he’d been caught with his hand in a jar of off-limits candy. “Uh…”
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. “I knew it. I knew there was no way you’d be engaged that fast. I was right.”
“Just because I haven’t been to the tavern doesn’t mean we aren’t engaged. It just means we’ve had other things to do,” Grace said, mimicking Hannah’s stance.
Hannah clenched her jaw as she stared down Grace. “Okay, fine.” Her posture softened, and she raised her hands, signaling she was backing down. “I guess with the house needing so much work, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you haven’t been there yet.”
Jackson studied her. Maybe Hannah had changed. She’d never given up that easily. Grace wasn’t like him, backing down from her like he always did. Still, he had an uneasy feeling in his gut, and he couldn’t put a finger on why.
Grace kept her arms crossed. “I don’t understand why you’re trying so hard. You wanted Jackson to sell the house, which tells me you wouldn’t want to live here. If you don’t want to live here, why do you want him back so badly?”
Jackson had to hand it to Grace. She sure knew how to handle a situation. And he liked that she was feisty, especially where Hannah was concerned.
“The only reason I’m here is to prove that I’ve changed. It’s not as easy as you think,” Hannah said, her lips taking on their familiar pout.
“Okay, I’ll give you that. Change is hard. Just when you think you’ve got it, old habits rear their ugly head.” Grace pulled out her phone. “It’s two, which means we have five hours until we’re supposed to meet Quincy tonight. How long do you need to get ready?” Grace asked as she looked at Hannah.
Hannah shrugged. “Maybe an hour?”
Grace turned to Jackson and touched his arm. “Do you need a longer shower? I know you’ve been sore. I don’t take that long, so it’s okay if there’s not much hot water left.”
Without so much as a second thought, Jackson cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “I’ll make sure I leave you hot water. Thank you for thinking of me.”
She covered his hand with hers. “It’s not all that hard.”
For the first time in he didn’t know how long, he felt his cheeks burn. She’d made him blush. Man, he wanted to kiss her. But the next time he kissed her, it wasn’t going to be in front of Hannah, because the next time he wanted to be able to stop when he wanted to, and he wanted to know if she was really kissing him back. “You ready to get back to work?”
“Guess we should since we’re going to be dallying tonight.” One last quick grin, and she walked back to the spot she’d been working on.
Hannah caught his gaze and an eyebrow arched. “I’ll admit I was wrong.”
“Remember that.” Jackson turned back to the wall he was working on. Now that no one could see his face, he smiled like a Cheshire cat. Dancing with Grace. He couldn’t wait to see what that would be like.
For half a breath, he was plumb stoked about going to the Tavern. Until he remembered she didn’t want a relationship. She wasn’t over her fiancé. Even if she hadn’t said a word, he could see that.
Sure, she’d kissed him, and it had felt real. But all of their kisses had taken place in front of Hannah. Those meant nothing, and he’d let himself get caught up in what was only a show. Why had he let himself think they could be something? Why was he always throwing himself at people who didn’t want him?
With every thought, he sanded harder and harder. The sweaty sheen created by the exertion caused the white dust to form a thin film on his face and arms. When he realized how viciously he was attacking the wall, he stopped. He looked as though he’d been hit with a bag of flour.
Jackson pulled his shirt over his head and wiped his face. The stuff was even up his nose. Tonight while he was showering, he’d have to double check to make sure he got all the dust washed off. He lifted his gaze and found Grace gawking, mouth hanging open and all.
Her cheeks looked sunburned, and she spun on her heel, putting her back to him.
“Is there a problem, Grace?” he asked. Probably shouldn’t have teased her like that, but he couldn’t resist.
“Nope,” she squeaked and cleared her throat. “No problem at all.”
He tugged his shirt back on. “You sure?”
She shot him a side-glance. “We have a time problem, cowboy.”
A few hours later, they stood back and examined the day’s work. Another day, and the dining room would be done. There was one small crack, but Grace had contacts, and she’d found an expert who could repair it.
“Is this just gorgeous? A good dusting and some polishing, and it’ll be just like it was,” Grace said.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jackson replied.
Grace hooked a thumb toward Hannah. “And Hannah. She helped too.”
His ex-wife beamed with pride. “I did, didn’t I?” It was a new look, one he’d never seen before. At least, not where work was concerned.
“You’ve been a great help,” Jackson said. “Thank you.”
Hannah nodded. “Well, unless you want to go first, I’m getting a shower so I can get ready. Maybe I’ll meet my future Mr. while I’m there tonight.” She bounced out of the room and took the stairs at a trot.
“Well, blow me over with a feather.” Jackson chuckled. “She seemed to like what you had to say.”
“She deserved some credit. Doesn’t mean I trust her one bit, but I’m not going to deny what someone’s due. We all worked hard, and it shows.” Grace stretched and yawned. Her ponytail hung down her back as she tilted her head back and rolled her shoulders.
Jackson wondered how she was able to keep going like she was and not fall over. “If you’re tired, you don’t have to go tonight.”
“If I don’t, Hannah will be suspicious. I don’t want that.”
“You know, we don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Grace froze and relaxed so fast he almost didn’t catch it. “You want her hounding you again?”
“No.”
“Then what choice do we have? Besides, I hate that snide smile she gets when she thinks she’s right. Bugs me to death.”
He laughed. “You don’t back down from a fight, do you?”
“I don’t know how. My mom says I get a bone and won’t let it go. How’s that’s any different from what she does? She’s a lawyer, but does that matter? No. If you aren’t a lawyer or a CPA or something—”
Jackson put two fingers to her lips to stop her from talking. Her eyes locked with his. “Grace, I like you just the way you are.” He took his fingers away. “You going to save me a dance tonight?”
“I only have one promised to someone else at the moment,” she said softly.
“Good.”
She lowered her gaze. “I need some water. Do you?”
“You know you don’t have to wait on me.”
Grace jerked her head up. Oh, he’d prickled her good. Her eyebrows knitted together, and her lips pinched tight. “I am fully capable of deciding for myself what and how I want to do things. If I’m offering to get you a glass of water, it’s because I want to, not because I’m waiting on you. Now, you put me in a French maid outfit, and we’re having a different conversation. Asking if you’d like something to drink isn’t waiting on you. It’s polite.”
Man, he liked it when she got all spit-fire like. It only made him want to get her upset on purpose. “Consider me schooled.”
“Good.” She patted him on the cheek. “I’m glad you can be taught.”
Just as he was about to wrap his arm around her, Hannah called out, “Next!”
Jackson didn’t know if he wanted to thank her or cuss her. One more minute, and he’d have kissed Grace. And a minute after that, he may have regretted it. If he didn’t get a handle on things soon, he wouldn’t know which way was up. “You go ahead and get your sho
wer.”
“But…”
“Scoot.”
She lifted on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
He winked at her, and the color of Washington apples flooded her cheeks and raced to the tips of her ears before she walked away.
Yep, it was official. He was in trouble.
Chapter 17
Squished between Jackson and Hannah in the cab of Jackson’s pickup wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. On top of the sandwiching between two exes, Hannah’s choice to pour on a gallon of perfume was making Grace’s stomach a little queasy. And the miles to town seemed to drag.
“You’ll like this place. It’s not super loud, even on Fridays. They do have a live band each week, but it’s country music. Hope you like that style,” Jackson said.
Hannah laughed. “I don’t care if it’s ‘White Christmas’ put on repeat. I just wanted out of that house.”
“I like country music just fine,” Grace said.
“Aren’t you glad to be out?” asked Hannah.
Grace shrugged. “It’ll be fun to meet people who live here, but I love the house. Once it’s fixed up, it’ll be amazing. I can see sitting on the front porch in a swing, the cool night breeze blowing through my hair as I drink a glass of tea. It’ll be perfect.”
Jackson covered her hand with his. “Absolutely perfect.”
“I bet guests would love to see free-range chickens running around. They’d know they were getting fresh eggs every morning.”
“I don’t know about guests, but I would,” Jackson said. “I’m planning on having a few.”
“Maybe a cow too?”
“I think so. Fresh milk tastes good.”
Hannah groaned. “Oh please. Store-bought is just fine. I’ve tasted both and couldn’t tell a difference.”
Grace snorted. “You got milk from a defective cow, then. Fresh milk can’t be beat. It’s sweeter and creamier than store-bought.”
“Have you lived on a farm, Grace?” Jackson asked.
She nodded. “I had a friend in middle school up through high school. Her dad had a ranch, and he produced dairy cows. On the weekends, I’d hang out with her. Breakfast on Saturday mornings usually consisted of eggs, pancakes, and bacon served with fresh milk and butter. Best thing I ever put in my mouth. It’s been a while, but it’s something I’ll never forget.”
“Maybe I need to try fresh milk again,” Hannah said.
Grace patted her leg. “You’ll love it.” She paused. “You know, you look really pretty tonight, Hannah. That dress looks really good on you.” Maybe if Grace showed Hannah she could be nice, they could be friends. They certainly didn’t have to be enemies, so what was the harm in trying?
“Thanks, Grace. I got this dress on sale in New York about two months ago. I didn’t even know why I’d packed it, but I’m glad I did now.”
“Those Willow Valley guys won’t know what hit ’em,” Grace said and bumped Hannah with her shoulder.
Jackson squeezed Grace’s hand. She looked at him, and he smiled. That was him telling her that he liked what she was doing. Being nice to Hannah had made him happy. Why was that so important to her? It hadn’t started like that, but in the last couple of days, the desire to see his smile and hear his laughter had grown. She couldn’t get enough of it.
She could have clapped like a seal when he blushed earlier in the day. Those cheeks of his had turned bright red, and it was the cutest thing next to a kitten. And that laugh, goodness gracious, was it something. It had become her favorite thing. It was deep, like his voice.
Oh, what was she thinking? Well, she knew what she was thinking. Jackson was having an effect on her. Something she hadn’t planned on and didn’t want. All she wanted was to get that house finished, not find a man.
Jackson pulled into the parking lot of the tavern, parked, and cut the engine. “Well, this is it in all its small-town glory.” He pushed the door open and stepped out.
Fresh air. Grace’s lungs cheered. Her nose did a cartwheel. She climbed down after him and took a big gulp of balmy air. It felt fantastic.
“That perfume was too much, huh?” Jackson asked.
“Did she bathe in the stuff? I mean, I feel like I’ve been attacked.”
He leaned down, put his mouth against her ear, and whispered, “That was nice of you to compliment her, but to me, you’re just gorgeous.”
“I’ve got jeans and a t-shirt on.”
“And never have a pair of jeans been happier.”
She smacked Jackson on the arm. “You stop that.” Although, she could say the same about him. That man could fill out a pair of jeans better than anyone she’d ever seen. Grace thought Bret was an attractive man. Jackson was suck-your-lungs-empty gorgeous.
Jackson slipped his fingers between hers. She would have pulled her hand away if Hannah wasn’t around. Or so that’s what she told herself. His hands were big, strong, and rough. They made hers feel tiny. Well, he made all of her feel that way. It made her wonder how it’d feel to be held by him when no one was around.
She shook her head. No more thoughts like that needed to happen. “So, do you come here a lot, Jackson?”
As they reached the front door, he held it and said, “Some.”
Following Hannah, Grace passed by Jackson into the dance hall. As the door shut behind him, he pulled his hat off and raked his hand through his hair.
The place was bigger than she thought. It wasn’t as country as she’d pictured it, at least, not for a small town like Willow Valley. On a scale of one to ten, she’d give it an eight on her honky-tonk scale.
A live band was playing, and they were in the middle of doing a cover of “I like it, I love it” by Tim McGraw. They weren’t too bad either. As her eyes adjusted, she could see booths lining the walls, leaving a fairly good-sized dance floor in the middle, which wasn’t overcrowded with people.
Quincy stood and waved them over to a booth in the very back. They crossed the room, dodging dancers, and stopped at the table.
“Now, isn’t this nice?” Quincy asked. “Grace and Hannah, you both look great. Are you glad to have a night off?”
Glad? Her mind wasn’t, but her body was saying, Bless you, Quincy. “It’s great. The live band sounds good. I can see people really enjoying coming here. It’s just enough country to be fun but not overbearing.”
Hannah surveyed the room, standing on the tips of her toes. “Hey, Quincy.”
He tipped his head toward her. “Hannah.”
“I think I’m going to go mingle,” she said and headed onto the dance floor.
Grace slipped into the booth and scooted to the wall. It was clean, which was good. Jackson sat beside her and leaned forward with his arms on the table as Quincy sat across from them. The band finished the song and started another fast one.
“I saw how the house is coming, Grace. You’ve gotten a lot done,” Quincy said.
She’d worked hard, but so had Jackson. He sanded that plaster wall to a surface so smooth you could skate on it. “We wouldn’t be near as far along if it weren’t for how hard Jackson’s been working. Hannah lending a hand is helping too.”
“Don’t let Grace fool ya. She’s the reason we’re as far along as we are. She’s up before me every morning.” Jackson bumped her shoulder with his and held her gaze. “She’s incredible.”
Grace’s cheeks burned. “He’s just being nice.”
Quincy laughed. “Jackson? Nice? I think I need my ears cleaned.”
“What was he like when he was a little boy?” Grace asked.
Jackson’s lips quirked up as he shook his head. “No, don’t ask that.”
“Too late, it’s been asked.” Quincy grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Aw, Uncle Quincy, don’t.”
Quincy sat back. “What am I supposed to do? She asked.”
“Tell her I was an angel and that I sang in the choir.”
Grace chuckled. “Even I’d spot that lie a mile aw
ay.”
Quincy pointed a finger at her. “See, that’s a smart woman.”
“Oh, I know she’s smart,” Jackson said and winked at her.
How did he figure out she liked it when he winked at her? Butterflies tickled her stomach, almost making her squirm. He was going to have to stop doing that.
“Anyway, this boy was a wild one, and when he turned ten, it was like he got a double dose of mischief and daredevil the moment he blew the candles out. He was running fast and furious all over the place. One day, he’s blazing through the house and goes for the handle on the screen door. It had glass that would slide down over the screen. Well, his hand slips, and, somehow, his arm goes right through that glass. He’s screaming and hollering. There’s blood everywhere. He broke his arm in two places.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open. “Two places? How did he manage that?”
“The doctor was as mystified as I was.”
Jackson shivered. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. That hurt.”
“Slowed you down all of two seconds,” Quincy said. “Of course, as he got older, that wild streak got smaller and smaller.”
“I—” Jackson started to speak.
“Excuse me for interrupting.” An older gentleman with graying hair and a beard stopped at the table.
“Pastor Chuck, how are you doing?” asked Quincy.
A pastor? Normally, Grace would question a preacher being in a place like a tavern, but it was the only restaurant in town aside from a Dairy Queen. She loved DQ, but sometimes you needed variety.
“I’m doing just fine. Blessed like the rest. How are you?”
Quincy shrugged. “I’m fine. Like you, I’m blessed with enough work to keep a roof over my head and food on my table.”
“Can’t complain about that.”
“No, sir, you sure can’t.” Quincy leaned forward with his arms on the table. “What brings you to our table? Is your car giving you trouble?”
“Oh, no. I was eating dinner with the Charlene, and I was told these two were looking to get married the second week in June. I won’t be in town. The men’s Bible study is taking a trip to Israel, and I’ll be gone two weeks.” The pastor’s gaze traveled from Jackson to Grace.
The Cowboy's Fake Marriage (Sweet Fake Marriage Romance Book 1) Page 12