Something Borrowed (Brides of Cedar Bend Book 3)

by Lena Hart

  He froze then jerked the faucet shut. When he turned to face her, his expression was unreadable. “I think under the circumstances its best we give each other some space.”

  “What circumstances?” She studied him searchingly. “Are you talking about that kiss that never happened? I thought you forgot all about it?”

  His stance grew rigid and something intense flared in his dark eyes. “I’m trying.”

  Those low words caused the hairs on her arms to rise. And it certainly wasn’t out of fear. Afraid he would read the veiled excitement in her eyes, she let her gaze drop to his chest.

  “Well, I hope we can get pass this. Danny knows about it and I’m glad he does. You forced me to keep your secret and—”

  “Wait a minute. It wasn’t my secret.”

  She gaped up at him. “Are you serious? I only kept quiet about it because of you. Then you go and tell Danny anyway. I don’t understand why you did, but I’m glad.”

  Jackson sighed in resignation and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “You’re right. I should have never put you in that position. Hell, I should have never touched you. But don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

  “I’m not worried,” she said quietly. “I’d just like it if we could put it all behind us and at least be friends.”

  He stared down at her for a moment, his dark eyes ablaze with frustration and something else.

  “Fine, if that’s what you want…”

  He turned away from her and swiftly left the kitchen. Truth stared after him, feeling more alone and confused than she had before.

  “Say what you want, Jackson. I’m still coming home.”

  Jackson frowned down at his cell phone. He was in his shed, in the middle of an important project, but he couldn’t resist trying to drill some sense into his little brother.

  “Haven’t you been paying attention to the news? There’s a hurricane headed our way in a matter of days.”

  “I know,” Danny said, his stubbornness coming through loud and clear over the phone speakers. “That’s why I plan to fly into Charlotte this weekend and drive the rest of the way up there.”

  “Why would you do something so stupid?”

  “What do you mean? I think it’s a great idea.”

  “It’s reckless,” Jackson said evenly. “What if the storm hits us hard? Are you really willing to risk your neck driving four hours through post-hurricane debris?”

  “To spend a few nights with my wife? Yes. Yes, I am.”

  Jackson glared down at the phone. “I’m serious, Danny. Now be smart about this. Find yourself a charter plane and book a direct flight here after the storm passes.”

  “Hmm, that’ll be expensive. Not to mention I’d be getting in next week and much later then I wanted.”

  “You’ve waited this long,” Jackson muttered. “Your skinny ass can wait another week.”

  Danny groaned. “But I miss my wife, Jackson. I mean, I really miss her.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” The words burst out through clenched teeth and Jackson forced his jaw to relax. “But your precious wife will be waiting right here for you when you get back, so relax.”

  “Yeah, I know she will,” Danny said smugly.

  Jackson rolled his eyes, though if he had a woman like Truth he would be smug about it too.

  “So, are you guys prepared for the storm?” Danny asked. “Do you have enough water, food, and batteries?”

  “Getting there. I need to get more plywood for the windows, but I’m trying to finish up this project for the Bensons tonight.”

  Jackson ran his palm over the mission-style executive desk he had constructed. This was his first big desk project, and he was glad he had gone with the cherry finish.

  “How’s your other, more important, project coming along?”

  Jackson sighed. “If you’re talking about the contractor’s license, that’s going to have to wait until after my paid projects are done. Besides, I can still do my woodwork without some useless license.”

  “Yeah, but you’re too good at what you do not to turn this into a legit business for yourself. People will pay good money for custom furniture. With a business name and license behind you, you won’t have to shortchange yourself.”

  “Trust me, I don’t.”

  “Oh yeah? How much did you charge the Bensons for that custom cherry wood desk you’re building?”

  Jackson glared down at the phone again. “None of your damn business. Besides, the desk’s a gift for Eric, so I gave them a break on the price.”

  “That’s my point. The Bensons are loaded and could have hired anyone in the country to build that desk, but they chose you. Because you’re good at this stuff and they know it. I just want people to take you and your craft seriously.”

  Jackson lost his glare and stared around his workstation. It was nothing more than an oversized backyard shed with all his woodworking tools, but it was here he had turned his longtime hobby into a source of income. He had never imagined making it into a full-time business. But with Danny’s constant urging to go further with his craft, he was beginning to believe maybe he could turn this into something bigger.

  “All right,” Jackson said. “If you really think there’s money to be made with this stuff, I’ll look into that license.”

  Danny blew out a loud, long breath. “You damn well better.”

  It was official.

  Hurricane Alma would be making landfall late tonight.

  Truth had been monitoring the news reports for the last several days, hoping there would be a shift and the dangerous storm would shimmy back into the Atlantic. Unfortunately, all it had done was gain strength and was now a category four storm.

  When Jackson pulled up to the driveway, Truth went outside to meet him. In the back of his truck bed were long pieces of flat board, several bags of tarp, and a large case of bottled water. For someone who had appeared blasé about the impending storm, he was certainly coming prepared.

  “I thought you said a few boards on the windows would be enough,” Truth said as he hopped out of his truck and went around to the back.

  “That was before it became a category four hurricane.”

  He lifted the stack of boards with a low grunt and started toward the house. Everything was suddenly becoming all too real and she stood there frozen, watching as he deposited the boards on the porch then returned to the truck.

  Stories of past hurricane disasters filled her mind and the hairs raised on her arms. In all her twenty-five years, she had never experienced a hurricane, not even in her Caribbean island home of Barbados. Yet, now she would be forced to live through one thousands of miles away from home—and with her husband thousands of miles away from her.

  Truth shook her head and focused her thoughts on right now.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I got it.”

  She frowned at his easy dismissal then decided to ignore him. She went to the truck and began unloading the items that were manageable for her to carry.

  When they got the truck empty, Jackson began shuttering the windows and storm-proofing the roof. Truth went inside the house and began filling buckets with water and coolers with ice. She gathered all their food and emergency supplies on the kitchen counter then collected provisions for Little Monster.

  Within hours, they had the house secured and was ready to hunker down in wait. Outside, heavy gusts of rain sporadically slammed against the house, letting them know that the storm wasn’t too far away. Little Monster whimpered at her heel and followed her into every room.

  Truth understood the puppy’s anxiety as the winds began to wail outside. Even as the pup followed her into the bathroom, Truth didn’t have the heart to chase her out. Little Monster cowered beside the tub as Truth took a quick shower. When the lights began to flicker, the puppy’s whimpering grew louder.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie,” she assured her, just as eager to get out of the tub. “I
t was just a little hiccup.”

  She turned off the shower, and Little Monster’s whimpers only seemed to get louder. With a sigh, Truth pulled back the curtain and found Little Monster huddled by the door.

  “It’s okay, honey. We’ll be out of here soon.”

  Just as Truth reached for her towel, the bathroom door swung open. She let out a startled shriek and nearly dropped the thick cloth.

  “Jackson.” Truth scrambled to cover herself, but her hands where trembling too much to get the terrycloth wrapped around her. “Can’t you knock?”

  “Shit. Sorry.” Yet instead of shutting the door, he simply stood there, his eyes transfixed on her barely wrapped body. “I heard Little Monster crying in here and thought she was trapped.”

  Truth clutched the towel closer to her, her knees locked tightly together as a strange warmth began to unfurl in her belly. “Well, as you can see, she’s not. So please leave.”

  He blinked then tore his gaze away from her. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.” He bent down and scooped the puppy into his arms. “Come on, girl.”

  Little Monster’s whimpers stopped as she licked his face. Jackson pulled the door shut behind them.

  Mortified, Truth leaned back against the wall of the tub and shut her eyes.

  Oh. My. God.

  She couldn’t believe what had just happened and could only pray he hadn’t seen too much.

  Three

  Her tits were perfect.

  Not too big for her small frame but not as small as he had imagined either.

  Jackson tried to get the image out of his mind, but it was impossible. The shape of those round, smooth breasts were imprinted in his head and he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Not on Little Monster who was gnawing at the center table leg, and certainly not on the news coverage of the hurricane.

  The soft sounds of Truth’s footsteps managed to draw his attention, however. Jackson kept his gaze glued on the television. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to pretend to unsee what he’d seen. When he tried not to think of her round breasts and narrow waist, images of the butterfly-shaped birthmark just above her crotch filled his mind.

  Truth sat down beside him on the sofa, and Jackson tried to ignore the light, sweet aroma of her body wash. He had tried keeping his distance from her these past few weeks, hoping the space would diminish some of his attraction toward her.

  It hadn’t.

  It seemed the harder he tried to ignore her, the faster she seemed to find her way into his thoughts.

  “What’s the latest?” she asked.

  Jackson cleared his throat, trying to ease the tightness that had formed there and was now steadily making its way down to his shaft.

  “It’s still headed our way,” he said. “But they say by the time it gets further inland, it’ll downgrade to a category one. Maybe even a tropical storm.”

  “That would be nice. Have they said anything about reopening the airports?”

  “No, why?”

  “Maybe Danny can get an earlier flight, instead of making the long drive.”

  Jackson turned to her and frowned. “So he’s still sticking with that stupid plan?”

  She stiffened beside him, her attention focused on the television. “It’s not stupid. Danny’s my husband and there’s nothing wrong with him trying to come see me.”

  “If he’s smart, he’ll wait until after the storm passes to make the trip.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts, pulling the oversized navy blue flannel shirt closer to her body. He recognized his brother’s shirt and he drew his gaze back to the television, before his mind had a chance to conjure up the memory of her soft looking skin underneath.

  “Well,” she muttered, “there’s something I want to tell him in person so I’m glad he’s coming.”

  “What did you have to tell him?”

  She hesitated then smiled shyly. “I kind of wanted to tell Danny first.”

  Jackson studied her still profile and he froze as a sudden thought came to him. “You’re pregnant.”

  She whipped her head around to face him. “What? No!”

  He didn’t know why, but her vehement denial flooded him with an unexpected relief.

  “I passed my NCLEX exam,” she rushed out. “I’m officially a registered nurse.”

  Her face lit up with pride and joy. Jackson couldn’t help returning her smile.

  “Congratulations. You worked hard for it.” Though he had spent little time around the house, he had seen how devoted she was to her studies. “When Danny gets here, we should go out and celebrate.”

  She shrugged. “That’s sweet, but not necessary. It was my third time taking the test so I had a bit of practice.”

  “A pass is a pass, Truth, and you busted your ass for this. Don’t take that for granted.”

  “I’m not, but I’d be content with a just glass of champagne at home. My main focus now is becoming a damn good nurse.”

  Jackson smiled. “I think you’ll make a fucking great nurse.”

  She beamed, her face turning a soft rosy pink beneath her golden yellow skin. He found her prettier when she got all bashful and his smile widened.

  “Thanks, Jackson.”

  Those simple words did something weird to him and he tore his gaze from her and cleared his throat.

  “Sure.” Needing to put a little space between them, Jackson rose to his feet. “I think Danny has some wine stashed away. It’s not champagne, but it should do for now.”

  Truth followed him up. “I’ll go get us some snacks.”

  Jackson bit the inside of his cheek. So much for getting some space. They took two steps toward the kitchen when the lights flickered then turned off. He didn’t get to finish his muttered curse before it came back on.

  When he turned back to Truth, her dark brown eyes were wide and stark. She also had a death grip on his arm.

  “It was just a glitch.” He patted her hand. “We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  She glanced down at her fingers digging into his forearm and immediately let go of him.

  “Yeah, right. Sorry,” she muttered. “We should probably bring one of the flashlights back with us. Just in case.”

  By the time they made it back to the living room, their arms were crowded with snacks, bottled water, an open bag of tealight candles, a box of matches, a bottle of red wine, two wine glasses, and a flashlight.

  The wind outside howled mercilessly, and the house shuddered slightly from the impact. He didn’t worry too much because he knew the foundation was solid, but in that moment he was more than a little relieved that he had gotten the windows boarded up.

  “It’s getting closer,” Truth muttered as she sat back down on the coach.

  Jackson followed her down, trying to ignore the way her cotton shorts pulled up and exposed a good portion of her thighs.

  “The worst of it should pass over us late tonight and we’ll sleep right through it.”

  Truth grabbed the wine bottle and corkscrew. “The only way I’ll sleep though this storm is if this gets in my system ASAP.”

  She poured two tall glasses and handed him one. He stopped her just as she brought her glass to her lips.

  “Shouldn’t we make a toast or something?”

  She leaned over and clinked his glass with hers. “Cheers.”

  Jackson chuckled and watched as she swallowed a healthy portion before setting the glass down. He took a few sips then set his down beside hers.

  She stared pointedly at his very full glass. “Not much of a drinker, huh?”

  “Not for wine. I’m more of a beer or rum kind of guy.”

  She shrugged and picked up her glass again. “More for me, then.”

  Fascinated, Jackson stared as she downed the wine and poured herself another glass. “For a little thing like you, you really know how to pack it in.”

  She chuckled. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Good, because it was,” he assured her. “Wh
ere did you learn to drink like that?”

  “Now, don’t go judging me. I’m not really a big drinker. I used to bartend while I was in school and overtime I built up a tolerance.”

  Again, he was intrigued. “So, nursing student by day, bartender by night?”

  “That’s right. I had to pay my way through nursing school and with my regulars, I made great tips doing it.”

  “Hell, if my bartender looked like you, I’d find an excuse to drink too.”

  Jackson regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He was attracted to her. That was no secret. But he didn’t want things to turn awkward again between them because of it.

  Luckily, she just laughed and shook her head. “I actually worked in a bar in DC. You’d be surprised how much politicians drink.”

  “No, I can believe it. You on the other hand… Every time I think I have you figured out, you up and surprise me.”

  She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “Yeah?” Jackson cocked a brow. “What makes you say that?”

  “Danny told me what you did and why you were in jail the day we arrived. Not many people would stand up to a bully or get involved in those kinds of situations, but you did and lost a potential client because of it.”

  “Danny may have exaggerated some things. For one, that guy wasn’t really a client, and I damn sure wasn’t planning to get involved.”

  “But you did stop him from beating on his son, right? I don’t condone violence, but I think what you did was commendable.”

  Jackson shrugged, though the thought of the incident was enough to infuriate him all over again. “What kind of man punches his own son in the face? The kid was only twelve. All he wanted was to go out with his friends.”

  Jackson felt her eyes on him, and didn’t like how her intense scrutiny was making him feel. He leaned forward and began sifting through their snacks to give himself something to do.

  “You didn’t have to punch him back. You could have reported him.”

  He tensed. That had been the same thing the officers and Danny had told him. But he’d never been good at thinking before reacting, especially when he was riled.