Worth the Risk (St. James Book 3)

by Jamie Beck

  “I can’t regret it.” Jackson smiled at her and pulled her into a kiss, then rested his forehead against hers. “It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”

  “But it won’t be the same.”

  “No. It won’t.” The thought of leaving scared him, and not only because he’d miss her. During the past couple of weeks, he’d barely thought about having a drink. He’d been happy and relaxed.

  But after his conversations with David and Hank this morning, his mouth had watered with a hankering for whiskey. Knowing he’d be seeing Gabby had snapped him out of it, but what would happen when she wasn’t there at the end of his day? And what did it say about him that he needed her so much?

  “I’m only a phone call away.” She tried for lightheartedness, but he could hear tightness pinching off her voice. Her resigned tone saddened him. Determined to assuage their sorrow, he clutched her tighter.

  “My going home isn’t good-bye.” He sighed. “And maybe my leaving next week will give Noah a chance to cool down.”

  Gabby shrugged. “Let’s stop talking about this. I should go home soon, and I don’t want Noah’s name to be the last thing I remember about tonight.”

  She kissed his neck and brushed her hand down his torso to the inside of his thigh.

  “Me either,” he said, savoring the goose bumps fanning over his body before he rolled on top of her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gabby hurried out of the nail salon. After working in the Haymans’ yard all morning, she needed a quick fix to make her hands more ladylike before she met Jackson’s family. Although manicures weren’t part of her usual repertoire, she’d bet dollars to donuts Jackson’s sister’s nails were perfectly polished.

  Her own were now a pretty shade of pink, but the pit stop left her barely enough time to race home and change before they arrived. She longed to make a good first impression despite how brief it would be. If his family caught her in her shit-kickers, stained overalls, and braided hair, they’d add her appearance to the pile of other reasons Jackson shouldn’t be involved with her.

  She turned onto her road, knowing she had forty-five minutes to shower and change. The last thing she expected to see in her driveway was Noah’s squad car. They hadn’t spoken since he’d tried to use their son to come between her and Jackson several days ago.

  “Been waiting for you. Jackson said you’d be home soon,” he said while stepping out of his car.

  “Sorry, Noah, but I’m running late.” She glanced at the garage apartment window to see if Jackson noticed her arrival. “Whatever you want will have to wait.”

  He withdrew an envelope from the car and waved it in the air. “I think you’ll want to make time for this.”

  The triumphant gleam in his eye made her heart kick unevenly. Unwilling to let him see her squirm, she squared her shoulders, forced a bored sigh, and stuck out her hand. “Fine. What is it?”

  “Open it and see.” He handed her the envelope, which she promptly opened.

  Across the top she read the words Voluntary Acknowledgement of Parenting Form. A tingling sensation bloomed at the base of her neck and crept along her spine.

  “What’s this about, Noah?” Feigning calmness, she employed a meditation tip to slow her breathing and repress alarm. “I’ve never denied that you’re Luc’s dad.”

  “True, but you never put my name on Luc’s birth certificate. I get why you didn’t when he was born, considering how I reacted to the pregnancy and all. But since we weren’t married when Luc was born, the law doesn’t recognize me as his father until we file this . . . or I take you to court to establish paternity.” He tapped the papers in her hand. “This is cheaper and easier.”

  Her throbbing heart shimmied up her throat, making it difficult to speak. When her obvious discomfort elicited a knowing grin from Noah, she wanted to toss her purse at his head. Resentment rushed in to crowd out fear.

  “Why do we need to do this? I’ve never denied you the right to spend time with Luc. Even so, you’ve hardly been an enthusiastic father, especially when it comes to financial support.”

  Noah, being Noah, didn’t even wince at her accusation. If anything, he seemed more eager to spit out whatever spurred this little showdown than to defend himself against her barb. “I did some digging around about Jackson. Did you know that, in addition to his drinking problems, he’s also facing legal trouble? Got into a scuffle with an employee. Now I’ve got evidence that he’s a boozer and a hothead.”

  Apparently Noah had used whatever detective skills he had to discover the public records pertaining to Jackson. Getting defensive or fighting him here in the driveway would only cause him to fight harder. Gabby needed to reason with him. To soothe his ego and pride.

  “Noah, you’ve met Jackson. You’ve seen how kind he’s been, to Luc, to my dad, and even to you.” Gabby donned her best puppy-dog eyes. “You know me and you know I’d never, ever put Luc in harm’s way.”

  “I used to know you, Gabby. Used to know you better than anyone. But I think this guy’s got your head turned around. I don’t blame you, though. I blame him. He knows women like mysterious men, and he knows you’ve been stuck at home for a while. Of course he saw you as ripe for the picking. If I’d come to you a year ago, we’d be together and he’d be a nonissue.” He dipped his chin and lowered one brow. She forced herself to swallow a scathing rant, knowing one wrong move in this chess game could cost her a lot. “But here we are, and since you didn’t seem to take me too seriously before, I thought you needed a little proof of my resolve.”

  “I doubt this act of yours is actually about Luc’s safety, so what’s the real end game here? If I sign off on this form to legally establish your place as Luc’s dad, then what, Noah?”

  “Depends on you. If you agree to keep Jackson and your mom away from my son, then there’s no reason for me to go after custody. But if you continue to show bad judgment, well . . .”

  In her imagination, Noah’s head exploded in a blazing fireball. Damn him to hell and back for bullying her. Contrary to the maturity demonstrated by her prior restraint, she shot back.

  “What judge is going to hand you custody of our son?” She laughed, although none of this was funny. “Unlike you, who abandoned Luc, I’ve given him a stable, loving home for three years. I’ve provided for him without any help from you. I don’t drink, smoke, or do anything else that makes me unfit . . . and that includes my relationship with Jackson.” Before she could stop herself, she shoved her pointer finger in his face. “You don’t have the right to tell me who I can and can’t see. Jackson isn’t a danger to anyone. He’s been more helpful and loving toward Luc than you’ve ever been. Besides, if you file this,” she waved the paper in the air, nostrils flaring, “I’m pretty sure I can start insisting on regular child support from you. Heck, maybe I can even get back support for the three years you’ve ignored. Come to think of it, that sounds pretty good to me. Where do I sign?”

  Noah stood stock-still, eyes narrowed. Before he got back in his car, he leaned in toward Gabby. “Test me, Gabs. I dare ya.”

  She held her head high while watching his car drive away, then collapsed against her own car. Her entire body trembled as she gave in to the panic that had been coursing through her for the past five minutes despite her bravado.

  Swiping the tears from her burning eyes, she waited for the alarm to subside. A quick glance at her reflection in the window painted an ugly picture—messy hair, red-rimmed eyes, worry lines.

  Now she no longer wanted to meet Jackson’s family. She wouldn’t have time to prepare, and she didn’t think she could hide her mood. Not from them or Jackson.

  She cursed aloud. Noah had obviously talked to someone who knew about all this custody stuff. Noah was a cop, for God’s sake. People respected him. She could picture him charming a judge into overlooking his piss-poor parenting to date because he had been young and confused. Hear him painting Jackson as a degenerate and her relationship with him to be depra
ved. Hear him using her own mother’s past to paint an unsavory image of her family. Meeting with her mom had been a mistake, but she couldn’t believe Noah had sunk so low as to use it against her, especially when he’d known how her mom’s leaving had wrecked her those years ago.

  Jackson came out of the apartment and jogged down the steps and over to her. He tipped up her chin. “What did Noah say?”

  “Let’s not discuss it now. Your family will be here soon. I need to think and calm down before I can talk to you. I’m sorry, Jackson. I can’t meet your family like this, either. Maybe I can meet them after your meeting . . . and after I’ve showered and settled?” She assumed they weren’t racing back to Connecticut, but maybe she was wrong.

  “I don’t know. Things could get a little messy today, so dinner might be tense. I’d rather not subject you to all that.” He paused. “Sure you can’t talk to me about Noah? I can guess he came loaded with more threats.”

  She wanted to wail, but wouldn’t. Wanted to ignore Noah and flaunt Jackson right under his nose. But if Noah really planned to mess with custody, she had to seriously consider her next steps. A court battle would cost money she and her father didn’t have. And even if Noah’s chance of getting custody of Luc was slim, was anything—or anyone—worth the risk?

  Closing her eyes, she let another tear trickle down her cheek. If she walked away from Jackson now, he’d surely see it as a betrayal. A rejection, just like all the others that sent him into a tailspin. How could she hurt him that way? But how could she share custody, or worse? And did she want to live in fear like that . . . wondering what Noah might do next, or worrying that Jackson would respond to her decisions by drinking? All she knew was that she needed time to think.

  “I’m sorry, Jackson. Now’s not a good time to talk. Please apologize to your family for me.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I’ll catch up with you at the end of the day, assuming I’m still standing.”

  Despite his joke, she could hear the underlying tightness in his voice. He’d obviously not only wanted her to meet them, he’d needed her support before he faced down some of his demons.

  “You’ll be fine.” She hugged him like it might be one of their last hugs. “Whatever hurt you’re harboring, they’re harboring some, too. You’ve all disappointed each other in some way, and you’re all here today out of love. Keep that in mind if tempers flare.”

  “Easier said than done.” He kissed her, and she wanted to cry. “Go on inside and try to relax. We’ll figure out how to deal with Noah tonight. Whatever you need to fight him, I’ll help you.”

  “Thanks.” Then she hugged him again, wishing she could be sure Jackson could help her defeat Noah. “Good luck.”

  Once inside, she ran up the steps, clutching the legal mumbo jumbo in her hands and fighting her tears. This morning she’d been optimistic about the future, Jackson, and his family. Then Noah ruined everything, like he always did. She’d thought he could never hurt her again, but she’d been wrong.

  Stripping out of her filthy clothes, she stepped into the hot shower and scrubbed her hair clean. As she stood there letting the water sluice off her skin, she had the sinking feeling that her relationship with Jackson had as much likelihood of surviving as the soapsuds circling the drain.

  Ten minutes later, Jackson came back to the driveway to greet his father, David, and Cat. “Where’s Vivi?”

  David hugged him before answering. “I asked her to stay behind. I didn’t think the stress would be good for the baby. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course.” Jackson nodded. “Though I was kind of looking forward to seeing her little bump.”

  “She fought me to come, but I wanted to be able to stay focused on you without having to be concerned about how everything might be affecting her.”

  “You don’t have to explain. I got it.” And he did. David would do anything to protect Vivi, just as Jackson would protect Gabby from Noah, or anything else that upset her. “I’ll see her next week anyhow.”

  “My turn.” Cat shoved David aside and hugged Jackson. “I’m so glad to see you. Look at you! Did you lose weight?” She smiled and ruffled his hair. “You still need a haircut.”

  Jackson chuckled and kissed her cheek before he turned to his dad, who’d been studying the Bouchards’ home.

  “Jackson.” His father, impeccably dressed and pressed, with his silvering hair perfectly coiffed, shook his hand. “We stopped to eat on the way, so we’re ready to get this over with when you are.”

  Jackson shrugged. “Fine with me.”

  David pressed his lips together, clearly annoyed by their dad’s clipped attitude. Jackson wondered how unbearable the drive had been, and whether one hundred words had been spoken among the three of them. In any case, Jackson had not only expected his father’s attitude, he didn’t even mind. Their dad might be rigid, but Jackson knew he loved his children.

  His father had always provided for them, given them every opportunity imaginable, offered tons of advice, and while praise came less often than criticism, it did come. In short, their father had been demanding, but he’d also held himself to the same high standards, which seemed fair.

  Cat glanced around. “Do we have to race off? I hoped to meet your landlord . . . and his daughter.”

  Jackson tossed his sister his keys. “Gabby’s not free now, so you’ll have to wait until later. I thought maybe we’d all have dinner at the Equinox?”

  “I have a client dinner at seven thirty, so I can’t linger after our meeting. We’ll plan a family dinner when you return to Connecticut.” His father gestured to his car, unaware that his abruptness ruffled any feathers. “Shall I drive us all?”

  When they filed into Doc’s office, everyone made his or her preliminary greeting. Once Jackson sat on the sofa, David and Cat flanked him, forcing their father to take the chair next to Doc.

  Jackson’s nerves had been relatively settled until right then. Although in recent weeks he’d become comfortable in this setting, being here with his family seemed to set him back to square one. Like his very first visit, now pins and needles fanned throughout his limbs. His heartbeat ticked a little faster than normal, and his stomach burned with the sinking sensation that this meeting was a very bad idea.

  “It’s great to meet you all and attach faces to the names I’ve heard throughout the past five weeks.” Doc rested his notepad on his lap and crossed his ankles. “It’s been a pleasure to get to know Jackson. We’ve butted heads now and then, but I think you all should know he’s taken this very seriously. He’s committed to his recovery, and to your family.”

  Cat rested her head on Jackson’s shoulder and squeezed his hand. The tender gesture humbled him. It also saddened him to acknowledge that his behavior—his inability to cope with his life—had ultimately forced this meeting.

  “If I can interrupt, Doc, I’d like to say one thing,” Jackson said.

  Doc gestured with his hand while flashing an encouraging smile. “The floor is yours.”

  “I want to start with an apology.” He’d been looking at his dad, but then averted his gaze and cast his eyes to the floor. “For a long time I only focused on my own hurt without seeing that I was also dragging you all through hell with me. Until Doc here started challenging my opinions, I figured it was my life, my right to brood, and none of your damn business. But even his advice didn’t make all the difference.” He suppressed the grin that always came when thinking of Gabby. He looked up at David. “It took watching someone else struggle with a similar issue in her family for me to really get it. So, from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry I worried you. I know it’ll take time to earn back your trust and respect. I’m feeling more optimistic now. And I’m grateful you all came here today to be part of the process.”

  “I never lost respect for you, Jackson.” David touched Jackson’s thigh for emphasis. “I’ve only been concerned.”

  “Thanks,” Jackson replied.

  “If you were listening carefu
lly, you heard Jackson use the word ‘trust,’” Doc said. “Trust is a key element of both his problems and his recovery. The picture of your family I’ve drawn from our discussions is one that functioned rather well until Mrs. St. James’s death. After that, a number of relationships broke down and Jackson coped by turning to alcohol and other destructive behaviors rather than to anyone in the family with whom he’d previously been close.”

  Doc paused and took a second to make eye contact with the others. “Jackson told me that, during the intervention held at David’s, he conveyed some of his feelings of betrayal and abandonment. We’ve since discussed at length how his impulse to avoid negative feelings by checking out with alcohol needs to change if he’s to enjoy a long-term recovery.”

  David faced Jackson. “I accept some of the blame here. You checked out in your way, but I’d checked out, literally, by leaving. Like you, I got too wrapped up in my own concerns to consider what you or Cat might’ve needed. I should’ve been there for you both, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t. I promise I’ll never bail on you again. If Vivi’s taught me anything this past year, it’s that we all need to be more open.”

  Aside from a raised eyebrow, their father made no response. He continued to sit quietly and listen from an emotional distance, as he’d done for as long as Jackson could remember.

  “Do you mean that?” Jackson asked David.

  “Of course I do,” he replied.

  Jackson shifted on the sofa, wondering whether coming straight out with his big question so early in the discussion might be a terrible idea. The opening, however, couldn’t be more perfect. “I’m glad, because I can’t turn to you if I feel like you’re withholding stuff. And I can’t completely trust you—or Dad—as long as you’re keeping this big secret.” Jackson glanced over his shoulder at his father, who remained stoic. “Whatever happened, it affected our whole family, so I think Cat and I have the right to know the truth.”

  David’s gaze lingered on their father and then dropped to the floor. “You’re asking me to betray someone else’s trust to satisfy you. To pass your test, I have to fail it elsewhere.” When he finally looked up at him, Jackson felt the weight of David’s conflict. “Everything I’ve done since coming home should be proof of my love. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Can’t this be enough?”