Perfect Contradiction

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Perfect Contradiction Page 9

by Peggy Martinez


  I guess I didn’t realize exactly how upset I was until I found myself baking dozens of mini pies and muffins at midnight that evening. I huffed. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do, might as well get a jump on the Monday mornin’ baking. I set to work, oblivious to everything around me, just wanting to quiet my thoughts and emotions.

  “Everything okay down here?”

  I was so in the zone and deep in thought as I searched through my cabinets for the last dozen or so mini pie tins I knew I had somewhere, that I hadn’t heard Jackson enter the kitchen. I squealed like a little girl half scared out of her wits.

  “Holy crap, Jackson, give a girl a heart attack why dontcha?” I said, narrowing my eyes in his direction.

  “Sorry about that,” he answered with a slow grin.

  My eyes widened when I realized what he was wearing… or rather not wearing. Low-riding pajama bottoms and no shirt. My mouth suddenly became dry. I shook my head and turned back to my cabinet.

  “What are you doin’ down here anyway?” I asked. Jackson had been staying at the inn for almost a week now, and he was due to check out in a day or two. I had to admit I was gonna miss having him around. He was kind and funny, and we’d shared dinner and breakfast together every morning and evening. He was easy to talk to and a very steady sort of man. I liked that about him.

  Jackson laughed.

  I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced back over at him, trying with all my might not to stare at his very nice chest instead of his face.

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked. I frowned, not following. “You’ve been taking a lot of frustration out on those pans and cabinet doors for a few hours now,” he said with a smile.

  “Oh my lord. What time is it?” I asked softly. Jackson walked over to me slowly. I stood from my kneeling position in front of my cabinets.

  “Nearly five AM, I’d wager,” Jackson said, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” I whispered out a breath. “I am so sorry, Jackson. I did not mean to keep you awake all night.”

  He reached out toward me, and I stiffened. His smile widened, but my breath caught in my throat.

  “It’s no big deal, darlin’,’ he said softly. “Let me just get some coffee in me,” he said, his deep voice vibrating along my nerve endings. His arm snaked around me as he pushed the power button on my coffee machine. I blushed and stepped out of his reach. It’d gotten too warm near the coffee pot suddenly. Jackson’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he smiled widely.

  “I can’t believe I baked straight through the night like that,” I said, glancing around the kitchen. Apparently, I’d decided in my haze of anger to fight to control it and get a jump on the day’s baking and then some. Hand pies, mini pies, cookies, muffins, fudge, and tons of other goodies lined every surface in my kitchen.

  Jackson began laughing. I whipped around to face him, my cheeks aflame.

  “Jackson Sharp, don’t you dare laugh!” I reprimanded. “Now what am I supposed to do with all this food?” I asked, a hand on my hip.

  “Darlin’, you won’t have a bit of trouble selling off every last pie, you take my word for it,” he said as he walked slowly over to me. “You just flash everyone that beautiful smile of yours, let ‘em catch a whiff of the magic you make in your kitchen, and they’ll be eatin’ out of the palm of your hand.”

  My eyes widened when his hand came out to touch my face. His thumb caressed my cheek, and a small dimple appeared along with his lady-killer grin.

  “You’ve got some flour on you here,” he whispered huskily. I blinked once and then twice before my thoughts were coherent enough to understand what he said.

  “What’s wrong, darlin’,” he asked gently, still cupping my cheek.

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted, blinking back tears.

  “That you are,” he agreed.

  “I gave up my Sunday school class so I wouldn’t cause any trouble for the pastor of my church after some people began talkin’,” I admitted, turning my face and eyes away from him.

  Jackson turned my face back around gently and tipped my head back to meet his gaze. “They’re all just jealous,” he murmured.

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Jealous of what?” I asked seriously. I put a hand on my stomach. “Of this?” I whispered.

  Jackson placed his free hand on top of mine on my stomach. “Of course,” he answered immediately. “Jealous that you’re pregnant with a baby bound to be as beautiful as his or her momma, jealous that you’re smart, strong, and a successful business owner. And jealous because they know you’re the type of woman who doesn’t get beat down when life throws her a curve ball. Instead, you readjust your game plan and become the best one-man team in the US.”

  I blinked up at him. “That was a very good sports analogy,” I said with a grin.

  “Why, thank you, ma’am,” he answered with a chuckle.

  And suddenly, I was aware that I was in the warmth of Jackson’s embrace. I was in my pajamas, and he was barely dressed. He must have realized the same thing at about precisely the same moment. He leaned in slowly, cautiously. I didn’t stop him. I knew I should, but I just didn’t want to. His mouth caressed mine gently, exploring. It was… nice. It was eye opening. I pulled back gently in a daze.

  “I’m pregnant,” I whispered.

  Jackson loosened his grip on me and put a little space between us. “I thought we’d already verified that,” he said after a moment. He searched my face before taking a step back, raking a hand through his disheveled hair.

  I cleared my throat in an effort to clear my mind. “I’m going to grab a shower and get dressed for the day,” I said softly. Jackson nodded. “Grab one of those cherry hand pies I know you love to go with your coffee if you’d like,” I said with a small smile.

  “A woman after my own heart,” Jackson said gruffly.

  “Jackson….” I began, feeling like I had to say something. Anything. I didn’t want things to be weird between us. Not when it was his last few days at the Inn.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Jen,” Jackson said gently. “Not a single word that wouldn’t tell me what I already figured out.”

  I smiled shyly over at him before heading toward the kitchen door. “Thank you, Jackson,” I said. “For everything you said, I mean.” I was blushing ferociously by then. Jackson was back to grinning in his usual, devilish way.

  He took two hand pies, set them on his plate, and picked up his cup of black coffee. “No, darlin, thank you,” he said.

  Wicked, wickedly tempting man, I thought with a laugh.

  I was still grinning when I stepped into the shower.

  “You know, you don’t have to do this,” I said for the fourth or fifth time. My words fell on deaf ears. “You’re supposed to be a guest here, for cryin’ out loud,” I added in.

  “Oh, I am,” Jackson said with a grin thrown over his shoulder. He was putting the second coat of white, baby-safe paint on the bassinet. “And believe me, I’m getting the better deal here.”

  “How do you figure?” I asked, a brow raised in skepticism.

  “Well, the room is a great price as is, but add in the cherry hand pies, the free coffee, the best breakfast and dinners in all of Missouri, and I figure I should really be paying a whole lot more for my stay.”

  I harrumphed.

  “Matter of fact, this doesn’t even make us even. I should probably start taking up odd jobs around the inn just to even out the scales.”

  “Jackson Sharp, you are full of it,” I said with a laugh.

  “Yes, I am, but let’s not discuss exactly what that might mean.” He stood up from his job and looked it over.

  I joined him. “It looks beautiful,” I said softly.

  “Looks ready for a baby,” he agreed.

  I blew in my hands and rubbed them together. “Now, let’s get inside and grab a hot cup of coffee for you and cocoa for me in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You don’t hav
e to tell me twice,” Jackson said, following me back into the warmth of the kitchen.

  Once we were seated and had hot, steaming cups in front of us, I glanced over at Jackson. “So, you finally talk some sense into old Farmer McGregor?” I asked after I’d thawed out a little.

  “That man is the most stubborn old jackass in the entire state of Missouri,” Jackson said gruffly. “I swear, he has just been messin’ with me for the past week. There for a while, I didn’t think he even really intended on selling his farm equipment.”

  I smiled. Sounded like old man McGregor. “But he is?” I asked, curious.

  “Yup. We finally came to an agreement this morning. Old coot had the papers already drawn up and ready to be signed, sittin’ right there, pretty as you please,” he said with a laugh and a shake of his head.

  “I’m glad. I’d hate you have to go home empty-handed with nothing to show for all your time and trouble,” I answered.

  Jackson sat his drink down and smiled at me. “The trip would’ve been well worth it either way,” he murmured.

  I blushed and hurriedly glanced away from his intense gaze. “So, you’re leave in the morning after all?” I asked gently.

  “Looks like I am,” he answered carefully.

  “I’ve enjoyed having you here, Jackson. I hope you know you’ll always have a room here if you ever happen to blow back through Salem again,” I offered.

  “I appreciate that, Jen.” He was quiet a moment. “If I had another reason to visit, I’d visit often…” he said softly.

  I knew what he was asking me. I wasn’t stupid. I also wasn’t heartless. I liked Jackson a whole lot. Any woman who had half a brain could see he would’ve been an amazing catch. But… not for me. Sighing, I met his eyes. I put a hand out and laid it on top of his, squeezing it gently.

  “I can’t give you any other reason.” My voice was soft, gentle, and yes… almost apologetic. Jackson looked a little pained and disappointed, but he was too good a man to say so.

  “He’s a lucky man,” he said after a moment.

  My mouth popped open to answer, but I clapped it shut quickly. He was right after all. I wasn’t over Hunter. I didn’t think I ever would be.

  “And there’s a very lucky lady out there waiting for you, Jackson Sharp.” Jackson just shook his head and then continued sipping his coffee. Life was so surreal sometimes.

  “I tell you what. You’ve been working like crazy lately. How about I take you out for a drive tonight to look at Christmas lights?” Jackson asked a few minutes later.

  “Jackson….” I began.

  He held a hand up. “Just as friends, I promise, Jen. I’m not going to pressure you. I just want to do something nice for you before I leave tomorrow morning.” I hesitated. “Consider it a Christmas gift,” he said sweetly.

  I laughed. “Alright, I’ll go. But no funny business, Jackson Sharp, or I’ll take back that box of goodies I was plannin’ on wrapping up for your trip home,” I warned. Jackson threw his head back and laughed, a warm and pleasant sound. Some lucky woman, indeed, I thought.

  “I wouldn’t dream of endangering that box of goodies by getting’ fresh, ma’am,” he said seriously.

  I snorted and then eyed him over the rim of my mug of hot cocoa. “Alright. Later this evening then?” I asked.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he answered.

  I was sitting back, pretty relaxed as Jackson and I drove slowly down the snowy streets. George Jones was playing softly in the background.

  “Thank you for tonight, Jackson,” I said. “I really did need a night out, and the lights were beautiful in the light snowfall.”

  “My pleasure. I had a good time too. These little things remind me how much we take for granted, how many simple joys we let pass us by because we’re too busy trying to go places and get things in our lives.” Jackson shook his head.

  “Mud pies and fire flies,” I murmured. Jackson smiled like he understood exactly what I meant.

  “Mud pies and fire flies,” he agreed.

  “Is there anywhere you’d like to stop before we head back to the inn?” Jackson asked.

  “I don’t think so,” I answered. “Well… can we stop at the Piggly Wiggly?” I asked.

  “Sure. Anything in particular you need? I can go in and grab it for you so you won’t have to get out of the truck,” he said as we pulled into the parking lot.

  “Nah, I need to go in myself and see what it’ll be,” I answered.

  Jackson raised a brow.

  “I’m craving ice cream,” I admitted shyly.

  Jackson glanced out the window at the falling snow and the twenty-something degree weather.

  I shrugged. “I can’t help what I crave.”

  Jackson smiled. “What kind of ice cream?”

  I blushed again. “No clue, guess I’ll find out once I get inside and stare at the cooler,” I said with a grin before opening up my passenger side door. Jackson was chuckling under his breath as we made our way into the Piggly Wiggly with only a few minutes left before closing time.

  “Vanilla?” Jackson asked.

  I shook my head and scrunched up my nose. What a waste of calories… vanilla.

  He smiled. “Okay, definitely not vanilla. Rocky Road?”

  “No.”

  “Cookies and Cream?”

  “Nah.”.

  “Strawberry?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about butter pecan?”

  Ohhh, butter pecan. I grinned and grabbed the ice cream.

  “Butter pecan for the win,” Jackson said as we headed to pay for our purchase. We walked outside, laughing, with the bag containing my ice cream. I stood in front of the Piggly Wiggly, staring out at the beautiful, snowy evening.

  “It’s such a peaceful night,” I murmured next to Jackson.

  “Yes it is. A perfect night.”

  The baby picked that very moment to make its presence known with soft little kicks and wiggle. I rubbed my stomach through my heavy sweater and smiled up at Jackson. “I think the baby is saying it can’t wait for that butter pecan,” I said laughingly.

  “Can I…?” Jackson asked softly.

  “Of course.” Jackson put his hand gently on my stomach. I took his hand and moved it across my belly, just in the right place. The baby was showing off its Jedi moves for him. His eyes lit up, and he put a second hand on my stomach. He was smiling widely, seemingly in awe over what he was feeling. I bet he’d never felt a pregnant woman’s stomach before.

  “That’s amazing, Jen,” he whispered. I was smiling when suddenly I heard someone say my name from a few feet away. It was a strangled sound, half disbelief, half anger.

  “Jen?”

  Jackson straightened up and took his hands off my stomach. We were both still smiling when I realized who it was that had called my name. Hunter.

  “Hunter?” I questioned softly. It had been months seen the last time we’d seen each other, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t even looking at me, not really. He was staring at my stomach. I placed both my hands there out of habit. His eyes roamed over my face then, questioning, trying to comprehend everything. Then he looked over at Jackson, and fury flashed behind his eyes. He took two steps forward before Jackson moved to step halfway in front of me. Hunter stopped. His anger was a palpable thing hanging in the air between us. I was frozen in horror, unable to think of a single thing to say to diffuse the situation. Hunter looked ready to tear Jackson limb from limb, and Jackson looked ready to take up the challenge even if he had no idea what Hunter’s problem with him was. Oh man, this was a fine mess.

  “Please,” I said after a moment. “Let’s just go, Jackson.” Jackson stiffened in front of me, but as I moved to walk around a patch of ice, he was instantly there, taking my arm so I wouldn’t fall before we reached the truck. Hunter had already turned on his heel and strode away back across the parking lot.

  “So, that was the guy, huh?” Jackson asked as we walked into the house. I si
ghed. Jackson Sharp wasn’t one to miss a thing or mince words.

  “That was the guy,” I answered, not even bothering to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. He followed me into the kitchen where I plopped down in a chair and removed my scarf and hat. Jackson grabbed a spoon out of the silverware drawer and handed it to me as he sank into a chair next to mine. He popped the lid off my ice cream for me. I sighed. Why couldn’t I be in love with Jackson? I took several self-loathing bites of ice cream before he spoke up again.

  “He didn’t seem to know anything about the baby,” he murmured.

  I sank lower into my chair and spoke around a mouthful of cold, creamy goodness. “How do you know the baby’s his?” I asked. Jackson snorted.

  “I’m not even going to bother replying to such a ridiculous question,” Jackson scoffed.

  “He hurt me,” I replied softly a moment later.

  Jackson stiffened.

  “Not physically,” I put in hastily. “He wasn’t there when I needed him the most. Something scared him, I’m not even sure what, but the fact of the matter is he ran and left me to face everything alone.” I scraped my spoon across the top of my ice cream and sighed. “Because of that, I decided I didn’t want to take the chance that he’d bail on the baby at some point if things got tough. That the baby would love him and then lose him.”

  “Everyone gets scared of stuff sometimes,” Jackson said.

  “I know. And I know I should’ve given Hunter a second chance all those months back when he asked for it. But, the truth of the matter is… it was my turn to be scared.” I glanced up at Jackson. He searched my gaze, seeing my heart there. The pain and the uncertainty. I didn’t let many people see all of what I was feeling. Not even Beth.

  “And now?” he asked.

  I sighed and took another bite of ice cream before answering.

  “Now I’m pregnant with my pastor’s son’s baby, and I haven’t told anyone but my best friend and you. I wish I had pushed past all my fears and insecurities and given us a real chance. Now Hunter is seeing someone else and is a bigwig in his father’s company.” I set my chin in my hand and propped my elbow up on the table. “Now it’s too late to take it all back.”

 

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