Loving Jackson (Wishing Well, Texas Book 10)

by Melanie Shawn

  Walking down the corridor at Mountain Ridge, it was like I was living out my nightmare.

  With each step that I took, the dread that someone was following me increased. But, just like in my dreams, every time I glanced over my shoulder, there was no one behind me.

  My chest was tight, and I could feel the walls closing in on me as I moved my feet as fast as they would carry me. My lips tingled, and the world around me drifted out of focus.

  The last hour had passed in a blur. We’d arrived at Mountain Ridge and Amanda and Justin, the owners of the resort, had shown us to the press room, where we’d set up to wait for Kyle. Reporters were everywhere. I’d kept my head down and Jackson had worked as a human shield for me.

  I hadn’t asked him to. But every time someone walked by, he positioned himself between me and the passerby. He’d been a support rock star today, so, I carried a little guilt over the fact that I’d just bailed on him while he was packing up the equipment, but I’d felt like I was suffocating. I’d had to get out of there.

  My hands were numb as I pushed open the door and walked outside. I inhaled a deep breath of fresh, crisp mountain air. The scent of pine needles and flowers filled my nostrils as I closed my eyes. Slowly, I blew out my breath and then repeated inhaling and exhaling slowly until my world steadied itself.

  The claustrophobia was just beginning to subside when my phone rang. I must’ve forgotten to silence it during the interview. That was how out of it I’d been.

  I was sure that it was Jackson asking where I’d gone, but when I pulled it out of my pocket, I saw my grandmother’s face. Pine needles crackled beneath my tennis shoes as I walked to a clear area in hopes for better cell phone reception. I answered it on the third ring. “Hi.”

  “Darling, how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. I just finished the interview with Kyle.”

  “Kyle Austen Reed, now he is a real movie star.”

  That was a high compliment coming from my grandmother, but it was also deserved. I’d grown up around celebrities. Some of them lived up to the hype, but a lot of them didn’t. Kyle Austen Reed definitely did. He had that indefinable “it” factor that drew people to him. He was charming, good-looking, and talented, but the main reason that I believed he maintained his status was the indefinable “it.”

  My grandmother also had that quality. And, as the saying goes, real recognizes real. She instantly identified that particular quality in others.

  “How is my dear friend?”

  “He’s great and he sends his love.” My grandmother’s affection for Kyle was not one-sided. Their admiration was mutual.

  “And you? How are you, my sweet darling girl?”

  Emotion began to well in my eyes. My grandmother adding “sweet” to “darling” was the most expressive she got in declarations of pride, love, or empathy. I felt each one of those things in that single word. Instead of empowering me, they made me want to crumble into pieces and cry.

  “I’m okay.” My voice shook. “I’m thinking about flying home early.”

  The plan had been for me and Jackson to spend the night here and then fly back to Wishing Well the following day. I’d intended to spend the next two weeks in the small Texas town working on the project side by side with Mia. But I knew that my producing partner would understand if I flew home instead. I could easily do all of my work online, and I’d only intended to return to Wishing Well as a distraction from my life, which would’ve been titled Monotonous in Manhattan if it had been an episode of Sex in the City. But right about now, monotonous was looking pretty damn good.

  “What about Jackson, darling?”

  I blinked in surprise. I’d been expecting my grandmother to send a private jet to come get me since she’d just used the adjective sweet. The last thing I’d ever thought I’d hear her say after learning that I wanted to come home was what about Jackson.

  “What about him?” I heard the defensiveness in my tone.

  “Do you really think you should cut your time short with him, darling?”

  I wasn’t cutting my time short with him. He was the one leaving on a jet plane. The tears that had begun to fill my lids reached capacity and one slid down my cheek. “I have to go, Grandmother. I’ll call you later.”

  I hung up the phone and my shoulders slumped with the emotional weight of a three-ton elephant. The elephant being an amalgamation of my past, my present, and my future and where, or even if, Jackson fit.

  “Josie? Is that you?”

  The dread in my stomach was doing the chicken dance as I slowly turned around, expecting to see a reporter frothing at the mouth to capture my reaction to Gio’s statements. Instead, I saw a stunning, dark-haired beauty staring at me expectantly. It took me a moment to recognize her as popstar Karina Black. We’d met years ago at the Academy Awards, when my grandmother had received her Lifetime Achievement Award.

  Those award shows might appear glamourous, but in reality, they were long and quite boring. I’d been highly entertained by Karina’s quick, dry wit. I’d never laughed as hard in my life as I did that night.

  “Karina, hi!” I hugged her. “What are you doing here?”

  I knew that she wasn’t here with Kyle. I’d just spent the last hour speaking with him about his wife, and him explaining that he believed in love at first sight because of her. And Karina was madly in love with another singer, Ryan Perkins.

  “I live here.” She spread her arms out. “This is my hometown.”

  “It is?” I had no idea that she was from Hope Falls.

  She nodded. “Yep. And my bestie Amanda owns this place.”

  “I met her, she’s so sweet.” The pretty blonde was friendly and had discreetly asked me if everything was okay, and insisted that she was there if I needed anything. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the unfortunate circumstances I’d found myself in, but she’d communicated her support silently.

  “Yes, she is,” Karina eagerly agreed. “That’s the beauty of our friendship, she’s sweet and I’m spicy.”

  Her description reminded me of me and Mia. I was definitely the sweet to her spicy.

  “And Hope Falls is amazing. On our way in I swear,” I held up my hand as if I was on the witness stand, “that I saw a Great Dane and a Chihuahua walking down the middle of the road, and they stopped and got an ice cream.”

  Karina nodded, not looking at all surprised. “That would be Scooby and Scrappy. They are my friends Nikki and Amy’s dogs. Those two sneak out and go downtown all the time. I’ll let the girls know that their escape artists have struck again. I’m headed to our monthly book club now, which is really more of a wine and gossip club. Do you want to come?”

  I wished I could, escaping for a few hours and drinking all the wine sounded like heaven. “I can’t. I’m working.”

  “Oh, I just figured you were here for vacation. What are you working on?”

  “It’s a documentary. I’m here interviewing Kyle.”

  “Austen Reed,” Karina finished imitating his voice. “And how is Josephine Grace Clarke?”

  “She’s good,” I chuckled. It felt so nice to not be preoccupied with what was going on with me.

  We were still chuckling as Jackson stepped out. When his eyes met mine he let out a sigh. “Josie, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Jackson, this is Karina Black. Karina this is Jackson Briggs.”

  “Hi, Karina,” Jackson held out his hand.

  Karina tilted her head to the side as she shook his hand then didn’t let it drop. “Did you work on the concert for Uganda relief?”

  “I did.” Jackson nodded.

  “I thought I recognized you.” Karina smiled.

  “Nice to see you again.” Jackson was being polite, but it was clear that he was preoccupied. I was 99.9 percent sure that his concern was still directed toward me.

  Karina might’ve picked up on his energy because her smile turned into a little smirk. “Well, I have to get going. I don’t want to
be late for book club.”

  After giving me a quick hug and promising to keep in touch, Karina was off, leaving me alone with Jackson.

  He turned toward me; his eyes filled with concern. “I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”

  “Sorry. I just needed to get some air. I’m okay now. We can go back in.” If I was going to leave early, we had to pack up and then make the hour and a half drive to Sacramento so I could catch a flight back to JFK.

  “We don’t have to go back in now.” He didn’t say, because there are still a shit ton of reporters inside, but I knew that’s what he meant. “Do you want to take a walk or something?”

  My grandmother’s words came back to me.

  What about Jackson?

  I just don’t think you should cut your time short with him.

  I could rush home, or I could spend one more night with a man that I knew could take my mind off of my troubles. Our time together was coming to an end, saying goodbye to him now would be like ripping off the Band-Aid instead of prolonging the inevitable. But since the inevitable was going to happen, and one more night with him might be all I had, forever… There were pros and cons to both scenarios—ultimately, my self-protection kicked in.

  “No, I just want to pack up and get out of here. I’m going to see if I can get a flight back home tonight.”

  I watched as his lips pursed and his jaw ticked. It was clear that he didn’t love my plan, but he didn’t argue with me. “Okay.”

  His hand rested on my lower back as we walked back inside. We made it halfway down the hall before we were met with three reporters who came around the corner and spotted me. They began rushing toward me. My heart sank and my stomach churned.

  Apparently, word had got out that I was here.

  “Josie, have you seen Gio’s interview?”

  “Did you release the tape?”

  “Did you set Gio up?”

  “Was the whole thing a publicity stunt?”

  “Is it true that you want Gio back?”

  Jackson shielded me by stepping in front of me, his arms blocking the press from getting any closer.

  I was once again struck with déjà vu. This exact scene had played out dozens of times when the story first broke ten years ago. I’d never commented on any of it. I’d let my grandmother’s publicist issue statements while I retreated into my shell, kept my head down, and avoided answering questions at all costs.

  That might have been the right thing to do then, but it didn’t feel right now. I was older. Wiser. And I was done being the victim. Gio had been the only voice that people had heard, and it was time for me to have a voice.

  “It’s okay.” I rested my hand on Jackson’s arm and stepped around him facing the firing squad. If they wanted answers, I would give them answers. And if anyone didn’t like it, fuck ’em.

  Chapter 29

  Jackson

  “Darling, if you never jump, how do you know if you can fly?”

  ~ Josephine Grace Clarke

  “I’m just checking on her,” I mumbled under my breath as I stood in front of Josie’s door. “That’s it.”

  I knew I was lying to myself, but that didn’t stop me from doing it.

  My phone buzzed and I jumped, feeling like I had when I’d been caught sneaking out after curfew as a teenager. I had to remind myself that I was a grown man and there was nothing wrong with checking on Josie. Also, whoever was calling had no idea that I was about to knock on Josie’s door.

  When I looked down, I saw that it was my mom. Maybe she did know what I was doing. Her and the eyes in the back of her head.

  I stepped away from the door. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Mia just told me about Josie, is she okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “What do you mean you think so?”

  “I mean that right after she spoke to the reporters, we checked into our rooms at the resort and I haven’t seen her since.”

  After her badass statement to the press, she’d decided that she wanted to stay at Mountain Ridge, like we’d originally planned. I’d been hoping that our rooms would be connected, but instead I was down the hall from her. I’d given her an hour before I’d gone to knock on her door.

  “Mia said that you were there when the press descended on Josie.”

  “I was.”

  “Why didn’t you do anything to stop them?”

  “I did.” And thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt. I kept that last part to myself. I might be a grown man, but I still had better sense than to sass my mom, even if she was being overbearing. “But Josie wanted to speak to them. She doesn’t need my protection.”

  As much as it pained me to admit that, it was true. My primitive instinct to protect her from danger was outdated and unnecessary. Josie was perfectly capable of handling herself.

  “Good for her. I’m so glad she finally decided to stick up for herself. I forget that not all children come by the ability to do that naturally. All of you kids either inherited that particular gene or you adapted real quick. With nine of you, sticking up for yourself was just basic survival.”

  I’d never thought of it that way. I’d always envied only children. No hand-me-downs, no sharing rooms, no toys being broken by your younger siblings. But the tradeoff for all those annoyances was never being lonely, always having someone to play with, and developing interpersonal skills that came in handy in adulthood.

  “You let Josie know I’m here if she needs anything. If she wants to talk about it or not talk about it.”

  That was something that my mom had always said to us kids. Whenever we were upset or she sensed that something was on our minds, she’d say, “I’m here if you want to talk about it, or not talk about it.” There were a lot of times that not talking about things with my mom was exactly what I’d needed.

  “I will, Mama. Love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  I hung up the phone and was putting it back in my pocket when Josie’s door opened. My breath left my lungs like they’d been vacuum-sealed. She looked like an angel. Her face was scrubbed clean and her hair was twisted up in a bun on top of her head. She had on a white robe with the Mountain Ridge logo on it, and the only thing I could think about was what she was wearing beneath it. Or should I say, not wearing.

  “Hey.” She smiled, tugging the robe tighter. “I thought I heard you out here.”

  “I was coming to see you, but my mom called.” I lifted the phone as if it were proof that my mom had actually called.

  Her brows knitted in concern. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, she was checking on you, actually.”

  “On me?” She touched her hand to her chest.

  “Mia told her about what happened with the reporters, and she wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “She did?” Her lip trembled and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

  “Yep. She said she’s proud of you, and to let you know that she’s there if you need anything. If you want to talk about it, or not talk about it.”

  Josie sniffed and I could see that she was getting emotional at my mom’s offer. It broke my heart that it seemed to surprise her so much when people cared about her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and show her just how much I cared about her, but since I was standing in the hall, it didn’t seem appropriate.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Oh, yes!” She shook her head as she stepped back as if the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.

  “How are you doing?” I asked as I walked in.

  “I’m good.” She shut the door and turned toward me. “Or I’m in denial. I’m not sure.”

  “Hey whatever works.” I put my hands in my pockets because I didn’t trust myself not to reach out and touch her. She was just so fucking beautiful.

  I continued, “I know I told you before, but you were amazing. You handled yourself with grace and class. Every time the reporters tried to bait you, you pivoted the conversation back to your narra
tive. It was…really impressive.”

  And hot. Seeing her not only hold her own, but dominate the press was ridiculously attractive.

  She’d pointed out that she was eighteen when she’d been violated in a very public and traumatic way because she trusted someone she shouldn’t have.

  She asked the reporters how they would feel if it had been their sister or mother in her situation.

  She asked them if they would want one of their loved ones’ past being dredged up again ten years after the fact.

  She told them that she was being used as a pawn in an unwinnable game, explaining that by addressing the situation, she was giving the story more traction, and by not addressing it, the outcome was the same.

  She explained that she was being violated again and that by covering the story, they were not only complicit in her continued trauma, they were perpetuating it.

  “I mean it. You were fucking brilliant.”

  “Thanks.” Her head dipped and she looked down at the ground, the way she did every time I’d given her a compliment. It was too bad that her reaction only made me want to compliment her even more. I wanted to tell her how cute she looked when she blushed, and how pretty her eyes were when they fluttered beneath her thick, dark eyelashes. I wanted to tell her how kissable her lips looked when she pursed them.

  But since that wasn’t what I thought she wanted to hear, I asked, “Did you speak to your grandmother’s publicist?”

  That was the first call she’d said she needed to make when we got our room keys.

  “Yes.” She looked back up at me, her amber gaze meeting my eyes. “I also spoke to my grandmother.”

  “What did she say?” My first instinct would be that she’d be proud of Josie, but Josephine Grace Clarke was nothing if not unpredictable.

  A wide smile spread across Josie’s face. “She said it was about damn time. And then she made me repeat to her everything I said four more times. She cheered every time I came to the end.”

  It made me so happy knowing that she had a support system. I knew that what I’d told my mom was right, Josie didn’t need me to protect her. But that didn’t make me want to protect her any less.