Loving Jackson (Wishing Well, Texas Book 10)

by Melanie Shawn

  Loving Jackson

  by

  Melanie Shawn

  ‡

  Melanie Shawn © 2020

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from Melanie Shawn. Exceptions are limited to reviewers who may use brief quotations in connection with reviews. No part of this book can be transmitted, scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any written or electronic form without written permission from Melanie Shawn.

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, characters and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic content. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older.

  Cover Design by Wildcat Dezigns

  Book Design by BB eBooks

  Published by Red Hot Reads Publishing

  Rev. 1.0

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Educating Holden

  A Note from Melanie Shawn

  Panty Dropper

  Whisper of Love

  Other Titles by Melanie Shawn

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Jackson

  “Darling, true happiness comes from living life, not letting life live you.”

  ~ Josephine Grace Clarke

  “I thought they hated each other,” I whispered under my breath, turning my head toward my little brother Travis. We were standing in the middle of a group of at least twenty people and I didn’t want the rest of the onlookers to hear my observation.

  “Foreplay,” Travis explained.

  Foreplay. I wouldn’t have minded engaging in some of that. It had been over a year since I’d had play of any kind, fore or otherwise. Work had been all-consuming.

  I crouched down, getting a better angle to capture a moment I’d never thought I’d witness: Bentley Calhoun down on one knee asking Maisy Turner to be his wife. Full disclosure: I only knew it was Maisy because my brother told me, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to tell which one of the Turner triplets it was, Maisy, Melody, or Madison. They were identical and I’d never been able to tell them apart.

  It had been over three years since I’d been back to my hometown, but if memory served, Maisy and Bentley had been about as friendly as a nest of yellow jackets since grade school. It seemed a lot of things had changed while I’d been away.

  The last time I’d come to visit, all of my eight siblings had been single. Now five of my seven brothers and my little sister had all gotten married, and a couple of them had even started families. I was an uncle. It was crazy.

  I’d returned to my hometown of Wishing Well, Texas the night before, and hadn’t even had the chance to put my bag down when my brother informed me that he’d volunteered my services for the second time in the past week.

  The first time was when he called three days ago to let me know that Mia, his very pregnant wife, was in desperate need of a cinematographer. Her D.P. (director of photography) had fallen through for a documentary project she was producing called What is Love?

  Technically, Travis had asked if I could step in, but since he’d couched the request as a plea for help—so his wife wouldn’t be stressed to the point it could hurt the baby—there was really no way I could turn him down.

  I’d gotten the call on the final day of production of a grueling six-month project, a biopic being shot in Cambodia. Before that I’d been on location in the U.K. for two years working on an epic fantasy trilogy. And that was after I’d spent a year in Australia shooting a nature documentary. All of those had been back to back. I’d jumped from one project to the next.

  I didn’t start my next film for two weeks, and I’d planned on heading somewhere tropical for a much-needed vacation. But instead, I’d booked a flight home.

  The second time I’d been roped into doing his bidding was to record his best friend’s proposal for posterity. That request was the reason I was crouched down on the blacktop of my elementary school this hot Texas morning.

  A bead of sweat dripped down the back of my neck from the punishing mid-morning sun bouncing off the asphalt. In the back of my mind all I could think about was that I should be in bed sleeping. Or better yet, on a beach somewhere with a drink that had an umbrella. But my brother needed me, so here I was.

  I moved to the left, trying to get the perfect angle for the exact moment that she said yes, and he picked her up in his arms and swung her around as the crowd erupted in cheers.

  I’d worked on a dozen nature documentaries and witnessed the mating rituals of a multitude of species ranging from cute to cannibalistic, disgusting to dangerous.

  Male humpback whales sing to attract their mates.

  Male giraffes drink the urine of females before mating with them.

  Male nursery web spiders bring corpses of prey wrapped in silk as offerings to the females before getting it on.

  Male praying mantises are lured by the female’s pheromones and may or may not get to mate before the female bites their heads off.

  Male honeybees die after mating because their reproductive organ is torn off and left in the female.

  The human species was no less fascinating to me. It boggled my mind the lengths males would go to just to spend the rest of their lives with a female. It had never made any sense to me.

  Doing a quality check, I scrolled through the images I’d captured and, satisfied I’d gotten “the shot,” I lifted my Canon back up and began shooting small details like the red heart Bentley had given Maisy, and a close up of the newly engaged couple’s fingers intertwined as they held hands. It was those little details that really captured a moment like this.

  As much as I wished I were on a beach somewhere, lying under the sun with a woman, basking in the afterglow of a between-the-sheets marathon, I had to admit that I missed this. I missed the simplicity of taking pictures. My career hadn’t exactly gone in the direction I’d hoped it would when I was a kid. Growing up, I’d idolized Ansel Adams, Robert Frank, and Henri Cartier-Bresson.

  In my teens and early twenties, I’d started my career doing still photography, even winning an IPA at age twenty-one for a wildlife series. But sadly, there wasn’t a lot of money in still photography. I’d briefly considered doing headshot photography in LA or New York, or journalistic-style wedding photography, but when I was offered assistant cameraman on a National Geographic documentary, I’d jumped at the chance.

  Th
at was nearly twelve years ago, and I hadn’t stopped working since. I’d been behind the camera, but I’d been shooting television, films, and documentaries. Making other people’s visons come to life.

  I wasn’t complaining. I knew that I was lucky. I’d traveled the world, seen six of the seven wonders, and met incredible people.

  When I first started out, I’d spend my days off exploring whatever location I was at with my camera. But I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shot anything for fun, for pleasure. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost my inspiration, my passion. And lately, I was beginning to think I’d lost myself.

  “Jackson Briggs, how have you been?” I turned and found my best friend Holden’s mom Mrs. Reed standing behind me. I guessed I was sort of related to her now, since my baby sister Harmony had married her oldest son Hudson.

  I was pretty sure if my siblings kept getting married, I’d be related to half the town before long. That’s what happened when you had seven brothers and a sister and they all settled down.

  Growing up, I’d spent almost as much time at the Reed’s house as I had at my own. Holden and I had bonded at a young age over our desire to get out of our small town. He’d had big dreams of being a professional bull rider and I’d wanted to be the next Frans Lanting.

  And we both had made it out of Wishing Well. Holden travelled as much as I did, and had reached his goal of becoming an international champion with several huge endorsement deals.

  “I’m doing fine, ma’am.”

  “Have you heard from Holden lately?”

  “We text, yeah. I congratulated him on winning up in Wyoming.” Cheyenne Frontier Days was the big daddy of all the rodeos, and Holden had come out the champion.

  “Yeah, that was a big win for him.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  I knew that she worried about Holden, and missed him. She always had. He’d started competing when he was ten, and I remembered that at that first rodeo, she’d bitten all of her nails to the point that they were bleeding.

  “How long are you in town for?”

  “Just a couple of days.” I didn’t have all the details yet, since I was just doing the job as a favor, but I knew that principal production started Monday.

  “Loretta!” Mrs. Greenberg, the church organist, called out, waving her handkerchief in the air.

  “I’ve gotta take Mrs. G to the senior center. Stop by the house if you have the time. Good to see you.”

  “You, too.”

  “Jackson!” I heard my name again and turned around to see a woman that I’d never met in person, but who was definitely part of the family. My very pregnant sister-in-law Mia was rushing up to me. I recognized her from video chats and pictures. I hadn’t been able to attend the wedding because I’d been on location in the U.K. She threw her arms around my neck. Which wasn’t easy since, at six foot three, I had an entire foot on her. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “Of course!”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” my little brother Travis teased. When she let me go, though, I could see that he wasn’t really joking as he pulled her into his arms and planted a very territorial kiss on her.

  It was so strange to see Travis marking his territory. To my knowledge, he’d never even had a real relationship before meeting Mia. He was too easily distracted by shiny things. Especially shiny things with C cups and blonde hair…or red or brunette or black hair, for that matter. But now, it was clear that the only woman he had eyes for was the one whose finger he’d put a ring on.

  Her eyes looked a little glazed over when my brother finally let her up for air. She blinked several times, before shaking her head. “Did I miss the proposal?”

  “Yep.” Travis kept his arm around her. “But Jackson got some good shots.”

  “I was on a call, I can’t believe how crazy things have been,” Mia sighed.

  “You need to slow down.” Travis rubbed Mia’s belly.

  “I know. I will.” Mia placed her hand over my brother’s, both of them looking down at her belly. I lifted my camera and snapped a picture of the sweet moment.

  A phone alarm sounded, and Mia jumped in start. When she pulled out her phone her eyes widened. “Oh, I have to go.” She lifted her head to me. “Would you be able to meet tomorrow to go over everything?”

  “Whatever you need,” I assured her.

  “Okay, well, I’m off.” She clapped her hands and took a step. When she did, all the color drained from her cheeks and she winced.

  Travis didn’t miss the look of strain on his wife’s face and reached out, catching her wrist. “Whoa, where are you going?”

  “The airport. I’m picking up Josie.” A crease formed between her brows and I could see that she was clearly trying to disguise the discomfort she was in.

  “No. You’re not. We’re going to Dr. Simmons.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just tired—”

  “That’s not a tired face.” Travis was already pulling out his phone. “We’re going to see Dr. Simmons.”

  Mia put her hand on Travis’ shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

  “This isn’t up for discussion. Jackson can pick up Josie.”

  That made the third time my brother had volunteered me for something—this time for an errand that would take up the rest of the afternoon and evening. Driving to DFW and back to Wishing Well on a Friday night was not going to be quick. Without traffic, it was a three-hour round trip. With traffic, it could easily be double that.

  “He doesn’t even have a car,” Mia pointed out.

  “He can take Dad’s truck.” Travis turned toward me. “Right?”

  My first instinct was to give him shit for so freely offering my services, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He was genuinely concerned for his wife and unborn baby.

  “Yep. No problem.”

  “Are you sure?” She stared up at me, searching my eyes for any sign that it was an inconvenience.

  “He’s sure.” Travis lifted the phone to his ear.

  “I’m sure.” I hoped to put her mind at ease. The last thing I wanted was to cause her any unnecessary stress.

  Mia didn’t look convinced, but she hesitantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll send you the flight info. Thank you so much!”

  She didn’t get another word out before my brother whisked his wife away.

  When I looked back, I saw that the newly engaged couple of the hour was gone, and most of the onlookers that had gathered were now dispersed. It was then that I realized I didn’t have a ride, since I’d come here with Travis.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t the only brother who’d attended the proposal. My oldest brother Sawyer was there because he was married to Maisy’s little sister Delilah and, at six foot six, he was hard to miss. I started across the blacktop after him.

  Sawyer was another one that I’d been shocked to hear was getting hitched. As the eldest of nine siblings, my brother had been a confirmed bachelor. As far as I’d known, he’d planned on staying that way. The only single Briggs siblings left were Wyatt, Beau, and me. The others had been shot with cupid’s arrow and were down for the count.

  When I’d asked Travis the night before what the hell was going on with all my brothers, he said, “When Briggs men fall, they fall fast, they fall hard, and they fall forever.”

  Not this Briggs man, I’d thought to myself.

  “Hey, man,” I got his attention as I got closer. He turned back. “Can I get a ride back to Mom and Dad’s?”

  “I can give you a ride.” I heard a female voice offer, from behind me.

  I turned and saw one of the Turner triplets. It was either Madison or Melody, I couldn’t be sure which.

  “Oh thanks, but I haven’t had the chance to catch up with my…” I motioned and glanced over my shoulder and saw my brother’s retreating back.

  He’d left without saying a word, which was totally in character for him. He’d always been the strong, silent type. He intimidated most people because he was six foot six and b
uilt like a mountain, but if you really knew him, then you knew he was just a big ol’ softy.

  A big ol’ softy that had just ditched his little brother.

  I turned back to either Madison or Melody, I still had no clue which one. “A ride would be great. Thanks.”

  Her smile widened, and after saying obligatory goodbyes to the few stragglers, I followed her to her car. We got into her Honda Accord and no sooner had I shut the door than she said, “Did you know that I had a crush on you all through high school?”

  “No.” Since I wasn’t even sure which one of the Turner triplets this was, I could honestly say I didn’t.

  “I think every girl in town had a crush on you or one of your brothers.”

  I supposed that made sense considering there were eight of us. It was basically a numbers game.

  “And I fell for the ‘wild’ one.”

  “Wild one?” I hadn’t heard that before. I thought I was mainly known for my photography. I considered my youngest brothers Travis and Trace the wild ones since their nicknames were TNT, thanks to an unfortunate incident with fireworks.

  “Yeah, Sawyer is the brooding one. Wyatt is the smart one.”

  Well, that was true enough. My second oldest brother had a crazy high IQ. I knew that he worked in the tech field, but had no clue what his job was.

  “Then there’s you, the wild one. Beau, the musician.” She continued listing off my brothers by birth order. “JJ the athlete. Cooper the playboy. And Travis and Trace were the troublemakers.”

  “Wow.” I had no clue that’s what we were all known for. “Why am I the wild one?”

  Her head spun toward me and her eyes widened. “Are you serious? You and Holden were always doing crazy things. You guys used to surf on the top of the church van.”

  We had done that. We’d seen it in the movie Teen Wolf and for some reason thought it was a good idea. It had ended with Holden falling off and getting a concussion.

  “You guys jumped from the crop duster into the river.”

  My mom had thrown a fit about that one. I’d “borrowed” the crop duster from the farm and both Holden and I had taken turns flying and jumping. No injuries with that one, other than my pride when my mom had read me the riot act in front of my entire graduating class gathered at the river.