Loving Jackson (Wishing Well, Texas Book 10)

by Melanie Shawn

Thinking I must’ve offended her, I apologized, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ve just blocked a lot of that time out and I was trying to remember…”

  “I only asked because you don’t seem like that would be something that you’d…I mean…you don’t seem like a person that…”

  Shit. I was just digging myself a deeper and deeper hole. How could I say that she didn’t seem like she would want that sort of fame—

  “Would want that sort of attention?” She saved me from burying myself any further.

  “Yes.” Exactly.

  “It was my grandmother’s idea. She submitted me for the show.”

  Yeah, that tracked. I barely knew the woman that Josie was named after, but that sounded exactly like something she would do.

  “I didn’t even know anything about it until I started getting texts from friends that saw the cast announced online,” Josie explained.

  “Were you upset?” I was used to having a meddling family where personal boundaries were laughable, but that seemed like it was crossing a line.

  “I was just…shocked. And at first, I said no. Producers called to arrange travel and I explained that there’d been a mistake. But my grandmother insisted that I needed to get out of my comfort zone. She said that my life needed adventure and that I would regret it forever if I didn’t seize the opportunity. I put my foot down and said that there was no way that I was going to do it, but then she posted on Instagram that I was going to be on the show and the post went viral. She said that she did it for me, to push me in the right direction, and I want to believe that she did.” Her tone was tinted with sadness.

  “But you think there was a different motive?”

  I could guess what it was just from the small amount of exposure I’d had to the movie star, but I didn’t want to assume or say the wrong thing.

  “The show happened before my grandmother had a blog or the podcast and I think my grandmother was feeling a little…forgotten. Having me on TV, gave her something relevant to talk about. It revitalized her career. Especially considering how similar we look and that we share the same name. Her IMDB rating broke the top hundred and her name was trending number one. I guess once that happened, I didn’t really feel like I had a choice.”

  “I’m sorry.” I hated thinking of a young Josie feeling obligated to go through with something like that out of a sense of loyalty.

  “It’s fine. There are a lot worse things in the world than going on a reality show.”

  “My mom always says that other people’s suffering doesn’t negate your own.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She sighed and looked back out the window.

  We drove in silence for a few moments, and I was trying to think of what I could say to shift the melancholy mood that I’d created by asking her about her past when she asked, “Did you ever think that you might be in love?”

  If right now counted, then yes.

  “Or have you never even come close?” she followed up before I responded.

  I didn’t want to lie to Josie, but I wasn’t sure how to tell her what I was feeling. Instead of answering directly, I explained, “I think growing up and seeing my parents’ love set a pretty damn high bar for me.”

  “I bet,” she agreed. “I never saw that sort of love. My father never married, not that I saw him that much growing up. And my grandmother has been married nine times. So it wasn’t exa—”

  “Nine times?!” I didn’t mean to interrupt her. I was so happy that she was finally opening up to me and I hoped that my outburst hadn’t ruined that.

  Her head fell back, and she laughed. Every time I heard her laugh, I felt it in my veins. The sound must trigger a release of serotonin or something in my system.

  “It’s so funny to me when people hear that number for the first time. I guess it sounds normal to me, but it is a lot. Although in fairness, it was only to six different men,” she clarified. “She married Lewis twice and Franklin three times.”

  “Wow.”

  “Five of them happened before I was born. I was only around for the last four husbands.”

  “What was that like for you?”

  “Well, I was a flower girl for two of them, and a maid of honor twice. The dresses were pretty. My grandmother has amazing taste.”

  My lips twitched up in a grin. “I wasn’t talking about the weddings.”

  She glanced over at me, her brow furrowed. “Ohhh, you mean having so many step-grandfathers?”

  “Yeah.”

  She smiled sweetly, “They were all nice to me. And they all loved, no worshipped, my grandmother.”

  “They just didn’t stick, huh?” I could see that Josephine Grace Clarke could be a handful. It would probably take a very strong man to deal with that.

  “I think my grandmother might be addicted to the feeling of falling in love and not so much a fan of the work of staying in love.”

  I’d never heard anyone put it like that, but as soon as she did, I realized that might be part of why I hadn’t wanted to settle down. Yes, my parents loved each other, there was no denying that. And they were incredible together, they supported one another, they loved each other, my dad still couldn’t keep his hands off my mom.

  But it was still work. It was compromise. It was sacrifice. It was commitment.

  When I’d asked my mom why she would warn Josie off from me, she’d basically said that I was selfish. Sure, she hadn’t said it in those exact words, but that had been the gist of it.

  And she was right. I was selfish. I’d never put a relationship over my needs or my career.

  Was that the man that I wanted to be? Josie made me think of things I’d never wanted before, but wasn’t that a lot of pressure to put on one person or one relationship?

  I’d missed countless holidays, all of my siblings’ weddings, and the births of my niece and nephew.

  Is that what I wanted for the rest of my life?

  My eyes cut to Josie, who was looking out the window. When I looked at her, the life I had felt empty. Meaningless. I hadn’t even known her one week and I was envisioning her walking down the aisle to me. Her carrying our babies and sitting in rocking chairs with them.

  I had to be having a mid-life crisis, because it couldn’t be love. Could it?

  Chapter 22

  Josie

  “The way to a man’s heart isn’t through his stomach, it’s through his eyes, darling. If he looks at you and sees his world, he’s yours forever.”

  ~ Josephine Grace Clarke

  “Wow. That is really a castle.” I stared across the lake at the large, stone structure that had been the working set for the show that Mia had been a production assistant on, Fairytale Love.

  “Yep. It is.” Jackson stretched his arms over his head.

  I tried not to notice the way his shirt pulled across the back of his shoulders. Or the tiny bit of skin on his abs that was exposed. Or how his moan reminded me of the sounds he’d made when he was inside of me.

  When I felt my mouth start to water, I turned my attention elsewhere so I wouldn’t embarrass myself by drooling.

  Everywhere I looked I saw a business with a fairytale name. On the way into town we’d stopped at Goldilocks Gas N’ Go. And we’d passed the Princess & the Pea B&B, which Jackson explained that his cousin Austin owned. There was Huff & Puff Food N’ Stuff grocery store, which had the three little pigs and the wolf on the sign. On the corner sat Bite Me sandwich shop, with an Alice in Wonderland theme.

  Across the street was The Drawbridge Diner and it had a mote around it and a large dragon that blew fire every few minutes. There was also The Muffin Man bakery. And Lanterns Bar and Grill that looked like it was Rapunzel themed.

  It seemed every small town we visited was more charming than the last. I’d wished that I had the time to explore them, but our schedule was tight. Speaking of tight, Jackson was now bending over to stretch out his back and his butt was looking all sorts of tight.
>
  “Nice view, huh?”

  I jumped, startled, and also feeling like I’d been caught. When I turned around, I recognized the dark-haired beauty from pictures Mia had posted on social media. Her unique contemporary vintage style was a standout in a feed filled with Kardashian look-alikes. She was the epitome of a modern-day pinup girl. I’d followed her online just so I could admire her fashion and try to glean some of her confidence.

  Today her thick, chestnut locks fell in soft curls around her shoulders. She wore a red halter-top with sweetheart neckline and tight, black high-waisted capris that complimented her hourglass figure. Her perfectly applied wing-tipped eyeliner and red lip was a callback to my grandmother’s contemporaries Jayne Mansfield and Bettie Page.

  “Jessa?” I held out my hand.

  She pulled me into a hug. The same exchange had happened several times over the last few days. I assumed it must be a small-town thing. People were big huggers. I didn’t hate it.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” she enthused. When she pulled back, she wore a friendly smile that spread from ear to ear. “I have to admit, I’m a huge fan. My bestie Ali and I were obsessed with House of Love when it came out and we just binged it this weekend on Netflix.”

  “Oh, that’s great.” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but it was hard.

  That time in my life was horrible. I’d done my best to move on from it and see it for what it was, but it still sucked. And plastering a smile on my face every time someone mentioned it was draining.

  “And can I just say, Gio is a low-life, scum-sucking asshole and if I ever see him I’m going to castrate that piece of shit.”

  “Get in line.” A deep voice sounded from behind me.

  My head spun around and I was shocked when I saw the murderous look in Jackson’s eyes.

  “Right?!” Jessa seemed happy she’d found a kindred spirit in Jackson regarding the castration of my ex.

  “Oh um, Jackson this is Jessa Myers.”

  “Jessa Steele, actually.” She lifted her hand showcasing a large diamond that I was sure had the power to blind someone. “He put a ring on it.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. “It’s beautiful. Jessa Steele, wow, that sounds like a superhero name.”

  “I know, right?” she nodded.

  “Nice to meet you, Jessa.” Jackson greeted the bombshell brunette.

  “So, we have about half an hour before we’re scheduled to shoot with my parents. I would take you there now, but I think my mom would kill me. She’s probably doing some last-minute cleaning. I already did her hair and make-up, but I was thinking if you wanted to, I could do yours.”

  “Oh my gosh, that would be amazing!”

  I’d been handling all of that on my own, but I really didn’t know what I was doing. Thank god for beauty bloggers on YouTube.

  “Great!! My shop is just right there.” She pointed across the street to a building with The Mane Attraction painted on its side.

  “Do you want to come?” I offered to Jackson, suddenly feeling like I shouldn’t leave him out.

  “I think I’ll just take a walk. Stretch my legs.”

  “Okay.”

  Jessa and I walked across the street, and I had to admit that I snuck one more peek at Jackson’s tight backside before ducking into the shop. The man was just easy on the eyes. I didn’t think that I’d ever get tired of looking at him.

  When I sat down in her chair, she placed a cape over me, pulled out her water spray bottle and misted my hair. “Soooo, what’s going on with that?”

  “With what?” I asked as if I had no clue what she was talking about.

  “With Mr. Hottie McHotness.”

  In my reflection, I could see my cheeks flush. “Nothing.”

  “Really?” She lifted her brows and continued squirting. “Because I caught some serious sexy-time vibes between the two of you.”

  I was a private person. I always had been, even before the most private moment in my life thus far had been violated and exposed. But there was just something about Jessa that made me want to open up to her.

  It could be because the person that I would normally talk to was out of the question, since she was related to Jackson, if only by marriage. Still, I didn’t feel right gossiping about Jackson, or kissing and telling. It wasn’t professional.

  “We’re just friends…I mean colleagues.”

  Jessa stopped spraying and spoke through clenched teeth. “Does he know that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He has the look.”

  My head tilted to the side as Jessa pulled out a section of my hair with a large, round brush and ran a blow dryer along it. “The look?”

  “Yeah, the look. The look that men get when they are in love. It’s the look they get when they want to mark their territory. It’s the look they get when they will kill anyone that hurts you. It’s the look that says they want to rip your clothes off but then hold you gently afterwards. It’s the look that says ‘mine.’ You know, the look?”

  “I don’t think he has the look.”

  Although…he hadn’t seemed happy when I was talking to Hank.

  He had said he’d wanted to kiss me since the first time he saw me.

  And, although he didn’t rip my clothes off because I was already naked, there was a good chance that he would have if there had been anything to rip.

  And I had fallen asleep in his arms the night before.

  “Oh, he does.” She moved to another section of my hair. “Believe me, I’ve seen it my entire life. My dad is straight up twitterpated with my mom. I bet we won’t be there five minutes before you’ll see the look. I will say though, it’s easier to spot the look when the look isn’t directed at you, which is probably why you haven’t seen it. Because Jackson for sure has the look.”

  “No. It’s really not like that.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Jessa or myself. “We just met, and he’s leaving the country in a few days for his next job.”

  “How long you know someone, and geography are irrelevant. Neither negates the look, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

  Jessa made quick work of my blowout and then gave me a fresh makeup look. We chatted about Mia and all the behind-the-scenes Fairytale Love shenanigans. Before I knew it, she was ripping off my cape.

  “Wow.” I ran my fingers through my hair as I looked at my reflection. The makeup she’d done was understated, but really made all of my features pop. My eyes, my lips, and my cheekbones were all highlighted. “This is amazing! Thank you! You are truly an artist.”

  “It helps when you have a drop-dead gorgeous canvas.”

  I shook my head and stood and grabbed my purse. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s on the house!”

  “No, I can’t do that. Please.” I pulled out my wallet.

  “I’m not going to take your money. But if you wouldn’t mind letting me take your picture to put up on the website, I’d appreciate it. If not, no worries.”

  “Of course!” I agreed.

  The impromptu photo shoot lasted for only a few minutes and then we headed out. Jessa was locking up the shop when I spotted Jackson at the end of the street talking to three elderly women.

  When Jessa turned around, she saw the same thing. “Oh no. They have him surrounded.”

  “Is that…?”

  “The Needlepoint Mafia.”

  I’d heard Mia talk about the three women that ran the town. They stood out to me because of the name, The Needlepoint Mafia, which was their knitting group. Apparently, they were also matchmakers, although to my knowledge they’d never admitted to playing cupid. But from what I’d heard, once they decided to set their sights on someone, that person was in love within a matter of months—or even weeks or days.

  “The tiny one that looks like a strong wind would blow her over is Mrs. Chen. Mrs. Dobrinski is the Mrs. Clause look-alike. And Mrs. Weathersby is the one holding a basket full of her banana bread
, and her claim to fame is that she was a Rockette.”

  “They look so…harmless.”

  “I know. But don’t let their unassuming appearances fool you. They may look like nice, little old ladies but they are ruthless and relentless when they set their minds to something. And hot, successful men are their favorite prey. We should probably rescue him.”

  “Okay.” I had to admit, I did feel a little bit intimated by them. But, it was only fair to come to Jackson’s rescue since he’d done the same for me when Wishing Well’s version of The Needlepoint Mafia had cornered me at the well.

  As we approached the group, I noticed that Jackson was blushing. Actually, blushing. I wondered what these women could’ve possibly said to him to make that happen. With my fair skin, any sort of embarrassment was broadcast in HD. But with Jackson’s golden sun-kissed complexion, he had to really turn red before it was evident.

  “Good afternoon, ladies. I see you’ve met Jackson Briggs.” Jessa turned to me. “And this is Josie Clarke.”

  “And are you two an item?” Mrs. Chen asked.

  “Is this the girl you were thinking of when we asked if you were seeing anyone and you didn’t answer?” Mrs. Weathersby added.

  “Is this the one that was making you blush when we asked who she was?” Mrs. Dobrinski waggled her brows.

  The rapid-fire questions came one after another. I stood, speechless, at a total loss for what to say.

  Jessa linked her arms through mine and Jackson’s. “Well, ladies, as much as I’m sure that Jackson and Josie would love to answer all of your questions, we actually have to get going. Mom and Dad are expecting us. Bye!”

  Without waiting for the trio’s response, Jessa escorted us to the safety of our rental car and told us she’d meet us at her parents’ house.

  On the drive, I went over my notes, but all I really wanted to know was what they’d said to make Jackson blush. Was it really about me, or had they just said that to embarrass him? It was kind of nice to think I had the power to make a grown man blush. Especially if that grown man was Jackson Briggs.

  Chapter 23