Right now, Megan wanted to leave the sterile smell and get back out into the crowds and find some animals to photograph to make up for missing the Grand Parade. She hoped Kristie would answer her text soon. The last thing Megan wanted to be doing was sitting in the first-aid room all afternoon.
The door swung open and the guy who carried her here ducked back inside. Despite the wrinkles of concern on his forehead, and even in the aftermath of her injury he still looked hot as hell. He stood awkwardly at the door. “How’s it going?”
Even though her head ached, an idea came to Megan’s mind. “You’ll keep me company this afternoon, won’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more like a demand. She desperately needed to get out and take photos and keep her job. She could hear her mum’s voice in her head about taking unnecessary risks, but this guy seemed nice.
Of course, so had her past boyfriend who had turned out to be a jerk. Megan was sure this was different. Besides, the guy had offered to do anything to help her.
“Ummm …” He pursed his lips in thought. He put his hands in his moleskin trouser pockets, shrugging his shoulders in a way that spiked heat within Megan. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves, which exposed his tanned arm muscles sending her heart thumping to an excited beat.
She looked at him with her best puppy eyes. She didn’t want to burden him, so she promised herself it would only be for a few hours, then she would go home and forget that this day ever happened. She caught his blue eyes and felt an invisible pull towards him. A twist low in her abdomen told her that she wasn’t likely to forget about this day anytime soon. Or this man. “My job depends on it.”
“Okay, then.” He smiled at her.
Warmth spread out around her.
“Anything to make up for what happened,” he added.
“First, you need to tell me your name.” Like that would make it safer going off with a strange man. But, he wasn’t really a stranger. She’d already heard his heartbeat when he carried her.
“Jackson Sunny.” He grinned.
A big cheeky smile that made her breath catch in her throat.
“And I’m 25 by the way.” He winked. “I’ll be quite a perfect escort for you for the day.”
Her mouth gaped open. “Escort?”
She had some pretty lustful thoughts about him, but they were just that. She wasn’t going to act on them. Well not yet, and the word ‘escort’ had such a different meaning to the type of things she’d been imagining in her head. She wanted a boyfriend, not a quickie.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said quickly. “I meant I’ll keep an eye on you this afternoon and make sure there’s no side-effects.” His face was now bright red. He took a deep breath. “Honestly, I’ll be a gentleman to you.” He put his right hand across his heart. “Promise.”
The intensity in his blue eyes sealed it for Megan. When she looked into his eyes, it was as if she saw part of his soul. A calmness flooded over her, a peace that she had never experienced before with past boyfriends. All three of them. She was not quite a late bloomer, but she certainly took the more cautious route.
One which secretly she was willing to forget about every time she looked at Jackson. Jackson. His name rolled around easily in her mind. A decent name, looked hot as hell, it’s just the start between them wasn’t the best. She couldn’t help but think that would be enough to prevent anything from happening. Oh well, I’ll enjoy his company.
“Good. Because I’ll have you know I’m not that sort of girl,” said Megan.
“I know you’re not.”
Megan smiled, genuinely amused for the first time in hours, and she didn’t even care about the dull pounding in her head, or the visible cut on her forehead along with the thumping big egg that had risen up. She was going to get some photos, and at the same time have a hot guy by her side. And considering everything that she’d gone through this afternoon, with the bump on her head that was more than enough.
“If it gets worse, then see a doctor.” The nurse stepped forward looking at Jackson. He towered over her but her confidence held. “You have had experience with potential concussion?”
“I have. I’ll keep an eye on her, and I’ll take her kicking and screaming to the hospital if there are any signs of concussion. Or anything else for that matter that would require medical attention.”
“Good. Thank you,” said the nurse, looking relieved. “You’re in good hands now.”
“Thanks for your help.” Megan smiled at the other woman as they left. She wasn’t sure about allowing Jackson to take her to the hospital if she didn’t want to go, but the sentiment that he cared, even though he didn’t know her touched her deeply. He’s just feeling guilty about Bruce kicking me in the head.
Chapter 2
The smell of the show, the earthy odor of animals, hot dogs, and cinnamon donuts, hit her as she walked outside, followed by a warmth spreading inside of her as he held open the door for her. Such an old-fashioned gesture that oddly made her feel special and cared for, and truth be known, underneath it all, right now she really needed some TLC. It was like Jackson knew that, and knew the right amount to give to her as he followed her out. Her legs still quivered, and her bravado of getting on with things was shaken.
“Where to first, Megan?” he asked softly, his voice deep with a bass level that vibrated strength.
Megan blushed, hoping she didn’t look thrilled by him using her first name. She looked away from him so he wouldn’t see the redness that burned on her cheeks. The Grand Parade was well and truly over. All she had wanted to do was to get away from the sterile smelling room that had reminded her of the days in hospital with her mum. Now, outside she had no idea what to do and take a photo of, and while she had an excuse of not getting the pictures, part of her felt like a failure.
“When was the last time you ate?” His gentle voice penetrated the flood of thoughts that created a mesh of doubt.
Megan shrugged her shoulders. “Dunno.” She looked at the hundreds of people walking past, kids with their parents, couples, groups of young teenagers. She blinked back tears.
Suddenly, everything caught up with her. It was the parents with their kids that squeezed at her heart. She’d once walked around with her own parents, and the smells of the first-aid room stirred old emotions. Undoubtedly some of it was caused by the bump on the head.
“Let’s get something to eat,” said Jackson.
Megan was vaguely aware of his hand ever so gently in the middle of her back, guiding her through the crowd. Her legs somehow moved, and she let him usher her in the direction of the food tents. She blinked the heat away from her eyes, focusing on getting her feelings back under control. It happened like this. At times, emotions caught her unaware.
She found she couldn’t resist him, well she could, but then she would lose control of her feelings and she didn’t want to break down in public. I should’ve stayed home and celebrated Father’s Day with Dad. Her stomach twisted tighter. Her eyes watered, tears dangerously close to spilling down her cheeks. “I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure about that?” His voice was close to her ear, he was a good half-foot taller than her, but he sounded so close.
She kept looking ahead, into the faceless crowd. Megan shook her head as a lump rose in her throat. Get a grip, she told herself. Her mum had passed years ago but the antiseptic smells, the bump on her head, having to rely on someone else for help, had suddenly undone her.
“Something tells me that you’re a coffee girl.”
They continued walking through the crowd, Megan wasn’t sure where, but she didn’t care. She trusted her judgment that Jackson would treat her right.
“Am I right?” He rubbed a hand on her back.
Suddenly, the tension she’d been holding back eased and she nodded. He somehow knew what to say to her, not push her by asking what was wrong, and allowed her enough space to pull herself together. Though something made her think that if she did cry, he wouldn’t
care. She didn’t do crying if she could avoid it. She nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak while the last of the emotion dissipated. Coffee made everything all right.
“Right, then I know where to get a great coffee.” His voice lightened, but didn’t lose any of its concern.
“Here at the show?” Megan had gone to the show over the years more times than she could remember but not once did she remember ever having good coffee. “You have to be joking.”
He laughed gently. “You have to know where to go.”
Megan allowed herself to turn her head up and look at him. Immediately his blue eyes radiated a peace through her. Her emotions once again under control, she allowed herself to smile. “Really?”
“Yes, really. My shout, it’s the least I can do.” Jackson steered her towards the Taste SA tent at the entrance. It was set up for more café-like food and coffee. The smell of double roasted coffee sharpened her senses.
“There’s a free table over there.” He gently pushed her forward, making her go first. Megan squeezed between the chairs and prams to the table in the corner and sat down.
“You sure you don’t want any food?”
“Positive.” Megan wasn’t sure she could stomach it.
“I’ll be back shortly.” He smiled, before turning away and walking off to get her coffee.
Megan sighed. Now, she was sitting down she realised how much the short walk exhausted her and her head throbbed more intensively. The coffee would help. She looked around to see where Jackson was. He’d ordered the beverages and waited for them. She had the perfect view of his tight arse, then his narrow waist and broad shoulders. I must be getting better.
She swallowed hard, pushing down the rising lustful thoughts, struggling to keep control, her body reacting to this strange man who was helping her with a sincerity that touched her heart. This isn’t like me. The lustful thoughts, maybe, but actually thinking of acting on them wasn’t.
I’ll allow myself to enjoy a few naughty thoughts. Megan figured it would keep her distracted from the headache starting to intensify. She lifted the camera strap over her head, and rested the Canon on the table, automatically flicking it on and opening the folder of photos.
She couldn’t sit here and stare at Jackson for the next few minutes, as much as she wanted to, enjoying his clean-cut features, scruffy facial hair and gentle eyes while he waited for the coffee. It was too perve-like and she hadn’t lost complete control over her thoughts and her behavior. She glanced up at Jackson, who was leaning casually on the counter. Megan swallowed hard. Not yet.
She glanced down at her camera, ignoring the heat in her cheeks, and scrolled through the few photos she’d managed to take before collecting a hoof to the head. There were a few shots of the cattle being led to the arena, blue ribbons tied around their necks proudly. She froze. Her breath caught in her throat. There was Jackson, smiling directly at the camera, at her, Bruce next to him, a ton of muscle coming her way. Her head pounded heavily, at the opposite emotions that surged through her, pleasant ones at seeing Jackson looking cheeky and hot, and then fear at the bull appearing ready to attack her.
“Here’s your coffee.” Jackson placed the disposable cup on the table, followed by two tiny packets. “Didn’t know if you needed sugar or not.”
“Thanks, I don’t.” She looked up suddenly aware that she’d been staring at a photo of him on her camera. God, I look desperate.
“I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I got some muffins.” He put down a paper bag. “Chocolate chip or banana chip? I’ll eat what you don’t want.”
“Thanks, you didn’t have to.”
“Least I can do considering.” He sat down next to her. His leg brushed hers, sending a bolt of static-like energy up her leg that radiated out her body, and causing her head to spin pleasantly. He put a hand on her shoulder. His blue eyes shadowed with concern. “You all right?”
Megan blushed yet again, cursing the way her body reacted to him. “Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, now I’m going to go for the choc chip muffin.” While she wasn’t hungry, the temptation of a muffin, and one with chocolate was too much. Either that or she would reach over, grab Jackson by his shirt, and pull him in for a passionate kiss, and she hadn’t lost that much control. Though I could blame it on the kick in the head.
“I thought you might like the chocolate,” said Jackson with a big smile, ripping open the package to expose the two homemade muffins inside.
After everything that had happened, Megan needed some chocolate, especially with the coffee. She held the cup to her nose, enjoying the bitter smell, and the sharpening of her senses that only this drink had on her. “I don’t want to steal it from you.”
“You won’t be, honestly,” he paused, looking at her with a glint in his eyes, “I got the banana chip for myself.” He picked up the muffin and broke in it half, allowing a slender snake of steam to escape. “It reminds me of my childhood.”
“Good. Chocolate chip is my childhood and adult favorite.” She took a sip. The caffeine flooded through her, and after a few more mouthfuls, her headache dulled a little.
“Do you come to the show every year?” She started on the muffin. The rush of sugar fueled her tired body and slowly she felt herself become more alert.
He nodded his head, and swallowed a mouthful of muffin he’d been chewing. “We show Murray Grey’s.”
“I thought his name was Bruce.” Megan wrinkled her forehead, worried for a moment that her memory was playing up after all.
Jackson grinned. “That’s Bruce’s breed.”
“Oh.” Megan wasn’t sure she really got it, so she stuffed her mouth with some muffin, trying not to look perplexed, or to stare too much at Jackson who was sitting so close she could feel his body heat. She liked it way too much to be able to resist him.
“He can be a little bad-tempered around crowds,” said Jackson.
She automatically rubbed her head. “Sort of got that impression clearly.”
“Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened.” He touched his hand on hers.
“It’s not your fault,” she answered, her mind foggy from the feel of his rough hands on her skin.
“No, but I still feel responsible.”
“You’re not.” Her mind fogged thicker and she found it hard to think. He can’t have this much of an effect on me, I hardly know him. He stroked his thumb over his skin. Megan’s focus blurred, then he took his hand away, leaving a pleasantly hot spot on her skin where he’d touched her. She sighed. Wishing he would put his hand back on hers.
“Are you all right?”
His words blew away the fogginess and she realised that she’d been caught in a bit of a daydream with him in her head. God, what is wrong with me?
“Thanks for asking.” Megan took another deep breath, this time deliberately. “I’m fine.”
This guy was so genuine, and sincere. Matched with his sex appeal, she found it difficult to concentrate. She glanced at him and saw his concerned expression. She remembered the promise that Jackson had made to the nurse. No way am I going to hospital. Megan forced herself to sit a little straighter in the chair, and to push thoughts of Jackson away. Focus on work. That will cool me down. But, she couldn’t quite keep her attention where she wanted it. Sometime about him went deeper than a fleeting crush that caused feelings to surface.
She realised that no matter what she wanted to get to know Jackson further. She thought about what she could ask without being too forward, after just meeting the man, and not under the best circumstances. The coffee began to work and the ache in her head eased enough for her to remember something that Jackson had said earlier.
“You mentioned to the nurse that you knew about concussion.” She wanted to find something else to talk about, to get to know Jackson a little more. She saw his expression sadden. She knew that look and her heart tightened in sympathy. Something terrible had happened.
Jackson picked up his coffee cup and drained the remaining liquid as if buying himself time.
Megan waited, watching him, wishing she didn’t just blurt things out of her mouth without thinking. If she’d thought first, she’d have considered that if he knew about concussion, then it was likely from a personal experience, himself or someone close to him.
He turned the empty disposable coffee cup between his hands. “It was my sister, Erin.”
Megan felt his pain in his words tightening around her throat, reminding her of the death of her mum, giving her an understanding beyond hearing any details of what happened. She was damn well sorry she’d bought up the subject. She clamped her mouth shut, forcing herself to sit in the silence, not daring to say something or ask one of the many questions that came to mind. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a few years ago now.” He looked into her eyes. “She was fifteen when she was thrown from a horse because it was scared by a snake. She received a head injury that left her in a coma for a week before she passed. The horse, Nanny, had to be put down …” His voice faded to silence.
Her heart stilled as she saw the sorrow freshen in his eyes as if it only happened yesterday. She repeated the words, softly, not sure what she should say because he wasn’t saying much, or elaborating on the story. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” He shrugged his shoulders as if in an attempt to shake of the heavy emotion that was welling around him.
Megan knew how that felt. And she knew what it was like when people would say sorry, she’d responded the same way when asked about her mother. It wasn’t your fault. But, then she’d expressed her sympathy. Even though she’d had experience with death, she’d learnt saying sorry was better, or hearing sorry even, than the awkward silence of nothing.
“I know. I’ve caused you to remember, when you’ve only shown me kindness. My mum died of cancer about a year or so ago.” Megan struggled to stop herself from reaching out and touching his hands. She noticed they were big, strong, and rough from hard work. She looked up into his eyes, holding his sad gaze, unafraid. “It was awful.”
Grand Parade (Show Time Fever Book 1) Page 2