by Jane Linfoot
Bryony reeled at that. One headstrong, interfering brother on high alert, so anything could happen here. Weak and floppy as she was, from somewhere she had to find the strength to rein him in. ‘Technically I ran out on him, when you whisked me away from hospital.’
Brando gave a grimace. ‘Whatever. I assume you know he’s disappearing to Spain?’
So like a man to read it all wrong.
‘He has to go, he’s got work to finalise there, but if you must know he ran it by me.’
‘He seemed very anxious to come here on the way.’ Brando put his hands on his hips, and gave a derisory sniff. ‘I’ll be interested to hear what he has to say for himself. It better be good.’
Brando was so overstepping the mark here. Bryony picked her jaw off the floor, to plonk him firmly back in his place. ‘You need to butt out. You’re talking like a Victorian father, about something that’s none of your business.’
At least the prickles of fury that stabbed at the back of her neck were fuelling her with energy. Brando jumping to defend her honour was not good news. He and Jackson meeting like angry bulls, both behaving like numbskulls. What an awful thought.
‘We’ll see.’ Brando craned his neck to get a better view of the sky. ‘Sounds like he’s here now.’
She let out a hollow laugh. ‘Unwanted guests, being flown in by chopper? Does it remind you of anything?’
Brando made a leap for the door. ‘You stay here, I’ll bring him in.’ He bolted, and this time he didn’t grin at her over his shoulder.
This was Brando getting his own back for the way she’d flown Shea in, much to his horror. Only that had worked out for the best, because she’d been in charge, whereas Brando really had no idea what the heck he was doing here. As the thrum outside got louder, she sighed, got up, and made herself saunter to the window. Definitely no need to rush.
Outside, Jackson, blasted by the down-draught from the rotor-blades, was running across the grass, all dark dishevelled hair and cheekbones, and her pulse went into overdrive. How wrong was that? Then their eyes locked, he raised his hand into a vigorous wave and his face broke into a smile that almost flipped her heart clean out of her chest.
Jackson. Beautiful, amazing, Jackson. Who hated families and longed to be free.
It had taken her all of five minutes to fall in love with the idea of having a baby. But like the world trip, a baby was her dream, whereas for Jackson it was his idea of hell. And no way could she trap him into that.
Chapter 48
‘Great place you’ve got here.’ Jackson knew he was stating the obvious, but any conversation was good if it filled the chasm of silence that had opened up in the room. He might have been overawed by the understated luxury and understated good-taste, but one unfortunate splodge of what looked suspiciously like tea in front of Cherry’s feet on the otherwise immaculate white carpet made the room feel instantly less intimidating.
It was hard to get his head round the fact that his baby was actually growing inside Cherry, when she barely looked any different, but the knowledge made him want to go and wrap his arms around her. Fat chance of that now that he’d been shown, very formally and deliberately, to a seat across the room.
Unusual for Cherry to have her feet on the floor, given that she was tucked in the corner of a sofa, and would usually have had her feet firmly folded underneath her. As it was, she was slipping her feet distractedly in and out of her Jimmy Choos. He awarded himself a silent point for brand recognition there. Maybe not quite so sure of herself as her high head and jutting chin suggested, given the way she was fidgeting. If he’d been next to her, instead of in the armchair he’d been directed to by Brando, he might have tried a whispered quip about thinking he’d landed at Downton Abbey by way of an ice-breaker. As it was, the expanse of floor between them stretched like a polar sea and her eyes were cool and guarded behind their invisible ice-wall of defence.
Jackson muttered a silent curse for whatever he’d dropped himself into here. Brando hadn’t sounded unreasonable when he’d spoken to him on the phone, but judging by his face now, the helicopter ride that Brando had pressed onto him earlier was a long way from the friendly and helpful offer Jackson had assumed he was accepting.
He drummed his fingers on the soft grey velvet of the chair arm, and his wandering glance alighted on a guitar, propped casually against a sofa. Brando’s glowering glances in Jackson’s direction suggested he’d happily smash this over Jackson’s head. There certainly wasn’t going to be any matey small-talk about engines today.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ Shea pushed through the door, and as she slid onto a sofa next to Brando she pushed back a mass of chestnut curls and slipped Jackson the hint of a sympathetic smile which he held on to very tightly. God knows he could do with some support here.
Brando leaned back, flexed his shoulders against a pile of cushions, and cleared his throat. ‘So, Jackson, thanks for coming.’ Brando cracked his knuckles, narrowed his eyes. ‘Facing up to your responsibilities from the outset will make things easier in the long run.’
Jackson noticed Brando’s cheek muscles clenching as he went straight on the attack. Across the room, Jackson saw Cherry’s mouth drop open, mirroring the shocked sag of his own. He tried to find a suitable reply, but Cherry had already jumped in.
‘Jackson’s going traveling, so it really won’t concern him.’ He noted the word ‘it.’ So, she was still avoiding saying the word baby then. And she seemed hell-bent on getting him out of the way, unless this was her way of getting him off the hook.
If Cherry had claimed Jackson was about to embark on a spree of mass infanticide, Brando’s expression couldn’t have been any darker.
Brando turned on Jackson. ‘A time like this, and you’re disappearing?’
‘Yes, no, I mean…’ Jackson, aware he was stumbling, fought to get a grip. ‘We’d talked about a trip.’
‘You’re going to the Pacific Rim, Jackson, you know you are.’ Cherry’s protest came through gritted teeth.
‘Where exactly?’ Brando screwed round, and his black eyes pierced Jackson. ‘It’s a big place.’
Under Brando’s sudden scrutiny, Jackson wasn’t certain he even knew where the Pacific Rim was.
‘It’s not a reality, it came from a restaurant menu.’ Jackson shook his head, and blew through his teeth. ‘It sounded a good idea at the time.’
‘You were very excited about it for something that wasn’t real.’ Cherry was nailing him down now. She and Brando, both gunning for him.
‘You know world tours are your dream, not mine, Cherry, but I was enthusiastic.’ He owed it to Cherry to be honest here, but somehow explaining he’d only been up for it when he thought she’d be coming too was setting himself up for a fall. He dragged in a breath, felt his voice grate as he spoke. ‘I’d thought we’d go together.’
It was out there now – not so hard. Obviously a futile hope, though, given the dagger-looks Cherry was slinging in his direction.
‘So, you two are together then?’ Brando swooped on the word, and snatched it triumphantly, then his face softened and his shoulders dropped.
At least it appeared to have had a calming effect on Brando, whereas Cherry’s eyebrows peaking towards the impressive plasterwork ceiling suggested she was becoming more irate by the second. Jackson locked eyes with her, took a breath and swallowed. ‘I’d like to think we could be together, yes. I’d hoped so before, but it’s even more important now she’s having our child.’
Cherry’s eyes broke away from his and rolled towards the chandelier above her head. ‘Now you are being ridiculous, Jackson.’
Jackson’s stomach dropped, and though he’d known it was a tentative suggestion, he still felt his chest deflating at Cherry’s downright dismissal.
Brando dived in again. ‘Bry, you have to give the guy a chance to do what’s right here.’
Jackson gave a grimace. He might be mistaken, but it felt like Brando’s hard line softened by a miniscule amo
unt.
Shea, sitting next to Brando on one of the sofas rubbed Brando’s forearm, pursed her lips and sent Jackson a helpless shrug. Meanwhile, given the way Cherry was chomping her lip and pulling at her hair, all Brando’s anger appeared to have transferred to her, and then some.
Her brows descended, and she rose in her seat as she pulled her spine rigid. ‘You all seem to be forgetting I’m old enough, and responsible enough to handle this myself.’ Cherry, mouth welded into a horizontal line, torched them with her glare.
‘Fine.’ ‘Whatever.’ ‘Of course.’ Brando, Jackson and Shea replied as one.
‘Well, back off, stop crowding me then.’ She growled at them, through gritted teeth.
Shea leaned forwards, and put her hand on Cherry’s knee. ‘It’s only because we care.’
‘Whatever.’ Cherry’s scowl deepened.
‘Right, well now that’s cleared up, we should give you a moment…’ Shea stood, yanked Brando to his feet and propelled him in the direction of the door.
‘Jackson’s just leaving…’ Bryony’s words hit the door, as Shea pulled it firmly closed behind her.
Jackson leaned forward in his seat. At least if he kept his butt on the chair, he’d be harder to dismiss. ‘We’ll talk when I get back from Spain then.’
‘There’s nothing to discuss.’ Bryony appeared to be examining the huge modern oil painting hanging over the fireplace, in great detail.
‘What about meeting up?’ It was understandable she should blank him on the baby if she was still in shock, or denial, but he wasn’t going to let her drive him out of her life that easily. ‘Given what we’re going to share, shouldn’t we work towards something more permanent?’ Noting her appalled expression, he threw in a calming qualifier. ‘Maybe.’
What had he just said? If he hadn’t been sitting down, hearing those words, coming out of his mouth might have made him fall over in shock. But he was pushing the boat out here, given there was so much ground to cover.
‘Jackson, we’re practically strangers.’ Not happy with that then, given the way her eyebrows and her voice soared. Cherry was doing a good impersonation of Incredulous of Edgerton Manor. ‘We’ve spent two weeks together all told.’
Somehow it seemed longer to him.
‘Don’t underestimate it, Cherry. Two weeks, together all the time, and it certainly changed me for the better.’ And from where he stood, Princess Cherry hadn’t come out of it too badly either, so long as you overlooked the pregnancy part, obviously. ‘And I like being with you.’ One afterthought, thrown in only because it was true.
‘Liking someone isn’t a basis for permanence.’ She visibly shuddered as she said the word.
She was missing the point. ‘Okay, tell me what is then? All your friends, who’ve had their Vera Wang moments…’ He hesitated, sought to lock eyes with her, to see she got what he was talking about. Her eye roll wasn’t quite the confirmation he’d had in mind, but it would have to do. ‘Somewhere along the line, all those women had to take a leap of faith, to get to that point.’
‘But Jackson, this is different, I hardly know you at all.’
And maybe she had a point, because this pale, stony, intractable woman, clutching her cardigan sleeve, blocking him at every turn, had very little to do with the fun, feisty woman he’d sparred with six weeks ago. Only the sensation of banging his head against the brick wall of her will was agonisingly familiar. She still appeared to have the ability to drive him right around the bend but in a different way this time.
He gritted his teeth. ‘Okay, I get that you don’t want to see more of me, but where do I fit in with the baby?’ Harsh, flinging it into the open like that, but given he suspected she was seconds away from ejecting him, he had no alternative.
He’d expected her to flinch, or falter, but she came right back at him.
‘Basically you don’t.’ She drew herself up high, against the cushions. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot. The world is full of single parents and with the presenting work I’ll easily be able to support a child. And Shea and Brando are in London a lot, and with Cressy and all my other friends I’ll be absolutely fine. Leaving you free to explore your tropical paradise.’
Why did she bang on about this paradise? He tried to fight the sensation that his chest was disintegrating.
‘Cressy?’ His voice cracked with derision. Cherry had to be scraping the barrel there. ‘Given the way Cressy legged it on Friday with the first guy she got her hands on, somehow I doubt she’ll be much help.’ And no idea where that random observation came from other than a frantic need to retaliate for the way she’d excluded him so neatly. Wild images flashed through his brain. Cherry, in a hospital gown, a baby in her arms. Him on a sun-lounger on some palm-fringed beach being force-fed coconut ice-cream. He didn’t even like coconut ice-cream dammit. Or sand. Hating every second. Why the hell would he head off to the other side of the world when the thought of walking out of the room and leaving her here now was making him feel like he had iron bands clamped around his head?
She rounded on him. ‘Are you implying I’m not competent to choose my own child’s babysitters?’ Her shout shrilled up an octave and ended in a shriek. ‘This is exactly why I have to do this on my own.’
He opened his mouth to reply but she’d gathered her momentum now, and she was in before he’d found any words to say.
‘As for you condemning Cressy, what about you and your track record?’ She stabbed the air with one finger of her good hand. ‘Jackson Gale, blowing in, blowing out, a different woman every night.’
And she had him there. What’s more, he’d walked into that one.
‘I know it looks bad, but…’ His half-formed excuse was obliterated by her howl of disdain.
‘How the hell are you going to commit to being a father, when you can barely bring yourself to commit to a one-night stand?’
For a second her eyes bored into him, brimful of recrimination, then she dropped her gaze, shifted, and re-cradled her plaster-cast in her good hand. She may look helpless, but she had him on the ropes here.
‘Good point, well made, Cherry.’ In the face of that devastatingly accurate hit, any protest from him would sound hollow. He’d come here hoping they could work something out, and she’d wiped the floor with him. How the hell had this gone so wrong? He swallowed to get rid of the saliva pooling on his tongue.
‘I think I’d better go now.’ He pushed himself up out of the chair, limbs like lead. ‘Sorry for crashing in, I was only trying to help.’ He needed to find the refuge of the helicopter before he did any more damage, dammit. And he was kicking himself now because he hadn’t done as she’d asked and stayed away. ‘I’ll maybe call you when I get back?’ He hesitated in front of her, took in her bare feet, resting on top of her shoes, pink nail varnish on her toe nails.
‘Whatever.’ She grasped a cushion, pulled it onto her knee, hugged it to her with her good arm, but didn’t meet his eye.
‘I’ll be off then.’ His hand connected with the door knob, and his heart lurched as he saw her lips part. One tiny, crazy part of him was still hoping she was going to ask him to stay.
‘Just don’t expect you’ll ever make me change my mind, Jackson.’
His heart-rate subsided again. One more statement from her, winding him like a punch in the guts. He grabbed one last glimpse of her, as her face slid behind a curtain of hair. Two months ago she’d been the strongest, most vibrant woman he’d ever set eyes on. Now all that was left was her grim determination, and dammit that it was him she was fighting. He clamped his jaw closed, swung out of the room, and strode towards the entrance hall.
One time he’d been a winner, but now he felt like the biggest loser ever. As for making Cherry change her mind? Somehow he doubted anyone on earth would have the power to do that. And the fact she was having his baby only seemed to make her more determined to have nothing to do with him.
Chapter 49
‘You do realise you’re behaving like th
e bitch queen of all time here?’ Cressy, perched on the desk edge and stabbed her lunchtime baguette towards Bryony in frustration. ‘You’re having his baby and in a whole month you haven’t returned one of Jackson’s calls?’
Bryony frowned, and took a bite of her third sandwich of the morning. ‘There haven’t been that many.’ This last week her wobbling nausea had been replaced with a cast-iron constitution and an insatiable appetite. Somehow she’d expected him to be more persistent. She’d been ready to shun his flowers but they never came, and no way was she going to admit that had left her with a more than a pang of disappointment. Nor was she going to say that despite being tied up with bouts hanging over the toilet, the excitement of going for baby-scans and coping with working with her arm in a cast, she’d had a gnawing in her gut which she suspected had a lot to do with the fact she was missing Jackson like mad. She’d hoped it would go away, but it hadn’t, dammit.
‘If a guy looked at me the way he looks at you, there’s no way I’d be giving him the brush off.’ Cressy’s baguette was wagging at Bryony again. ‘I’d ditch my no-commitment rule and grab him by the boxers with both hands. On those gala evening photos he looks ready to devour you.’
‘Jackson does a great line in lust.’ Bryony wasn’t about to admit how many evenings she’d spent staring at those pictures. All alone in her flat, deep down she wished there was a way to be with him without her feeling that she was forcing him into it. If they’d only got together first that would have been so different. She’d almost felt that was about to happen, almost felt ready to let it, but being pregnant was pretty irreversible, and it changed everything. She knew how resentful men could get long term when they’d been press-ganged into something, especially footloose guys like Jackson, and even if he was hiding those feelings now, they might come out later. Her dad had run out on her mum, and left a marriage he’d gone into willingly. From her own experience at home, men were unpredictable. Now it came down to it, would she put her trust in someone as unreliable as a man? It was agonising to know how much she liked him, and at the same time know it was impossible to make this work. If a tiny part of her longed for him to come back and over-ride all her objections, she was trying to ignore it. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt this vulnerable, and she had to think of the baby, as well as herself. Hard as it was, it was surely easier all round for her to go it alone now, and avoid all three of them getting hurt later.