by Leger, Lori
Slightly dazed, she pointed over her shoulder toward the front door. “There’s a dog. A big dog.”
“Are you hurt? Did he bite you?” Bill walked toward her and the door.
“N-no-no,” she stammered.
He gently moved her away from the door then jerked it open. “Get out of here you son of a bitch!”
The offensive animal ran off.
“Every stinking time I come over here, that dog’s loose. I kicked it in the face once so he’s got enough sense not to come after me.”
Giselle’s gaze locked on Jackson’s as he re-entered the room, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, feet bare, hair tousled, looking damn near as good as he had wearing nothing but that towel. She jumped at Bill’s angry bark.
“That damned dog is a menace!”
Jackson stopped within three feet of her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, averted her gaze as heat rose from her neck, inching its way upward.
Bill continued his rant, thankfully, drawing Jackson’s attention from her rapidly flushing face.
“Who’s that damn Doberman belong to, Jackson? That’s the third time this month I’ve seen him out of his yard and off his leash, and I don’t even live here.”
Jackson’s gaze finally wavered, then focused on Bill, thank God.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to my neighbor about him.”
“What if Mac and Lexie had been here?” Bill demanded.
Jackson’s gaze travelled from Bill, to her, then back to Bill. His tone grew hard. “Why would the girls be here?” His gaze landed once more on Giselle. “Come to think of it, why are you here?”
She met his gaze for a split second before allowing herself the chance to absorb the sight of him. Giselle had worked with Jackson for five years and had never seen him in anything more casual than Dockers and a Polo shirt at the office. She’d barely noticed him when he showed up to work in her yard the past three months. Yet, here he stood, in a pair of faded jeans that fit snugly over his muscled thighs, hugging his hips. He wore a clean, white, V-neck T-shirt that clung nicely to every dip and bulge of his beefy chest. And he was barefooted. Her senses firing on all cylinders, she swallowed.
Giselle lifted her gaze to his clean shaven face. Several locks of damp, chocolate brown hair curled enticingly over his forehead. Dark circles peeked out from under his eyes, remnants of his night of drinking, no doubt. It jogged her into remembering the reason she was here.
“Jackson, I came to tell you how very sorry I am for saying those awful things to you.” She searched for Bill, for some form of backup. He’d somehow managed to slip out of the room, maybe out of the house. She took a deep breath and began her explanation.
“I know you were only trying to help. You and Bill have been so good to the girls. I couldn’t see past my own hurt and ended up hurting them, and you, too. I’m sorry.”
He released the breath he’d been holding, seemed to relax for the first time since she made her appearance. He took two steps closer, spoke in a voice deep, and a little husky—maybe from whisky?
“What does this mean?”
His breath was sweet, a blend of minty toothpaste and either mouthwash or whiskey. She couldn’t concentrate with his gaze planted on hers. She focused on his broad chest instead. “I’m sorry for trying to stop you from seeing the girls, and for being such a—for being so unreasonable. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be seeing a lot more of them from now on.” Giselle’s breath caught in her throat as he cocked his head and lifted one corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Bill asked if he could be their honorary grandfather,” her voice trailed off.
He leaned in closer. “What was that last part again?”
She gave him a weak smile, for the first time, wondering if he’d mind. “He wants my girls to call him Paw Paw Bill from now on. I hope you don’t mind.”
He was so near, she could smell the fragrance of his soap, a clean, masculine scent, tantalizing her nostrils, tempting her to lean closer. Oh God, she’d missed being this close to a man.
Jackson shook his head, clearly confused. “Why would I mind? Don’t you realize how I feel about those girls?”
She heard the sincerity in his statement. “I do now.”
He lowered his head, looking pensive for a moment. “Giselle?”
“Huh?” Focus on the chest. Just the chest. She fought the urge to run her hands over the fabric of his T-shirt, it’s material stretched tautly over the sculpted surface of his pectorals.
“If Bill is their Paw Paw, what does that make me?”
She blinked, as if awakening from a trance. “You’re Jackson. Just Jackson.” Her eyes darted up to his face. He gave her that crooked grin again, the one that must have made the girls melt when he was about seventeen.
“Just Jackson, huh? That’s fine by me. Do you mind me asking what brought on this change of heart?”
Giselle nodded. “Your Uncle Bill and I had a talk. He’s a very smart man, you know.”
Jackson snorted, his irritation obvious. “God, I hope you didn’t tell him that; he already thinks he’s right about everything.”
She grinned slyly. “Is he? Always right about everything, I mean?” Her stomach flipped at his low rumble of laughter.
“Always, and it annoys the living hell out of me.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a Master’s Degree in Engineering, and he’s never spent one day in college. He’s still smarter than I am.”
Giselle chuckled. “That must be a gigantic blow to that big, bad engineer ego of yours.”
“No,” he sighed, dramatically. “Just a small one.”
“What’s the matter, Jackson? Did the big, tall man hurt your widdle biddy, feelings?” She pushed out her lower lip.
His brow furrowed. “Okay smart ass,” he growled. “Don’t push your luck.” He reached out to place his hands on her thin shoulders, and locked his gaze on hers. “Are you okay now, really?”
Giselle felt heat infuse her face at his close perusal. She looked away shyly and lifted a shoulder. “I think so. I’m not saying I won’t have some bad days, but the worst is over.”
“Giselle.” He gave her shoulders another light squeeze, urging her to look at him. “Are we okay?”
Reluctantly, she met the piercing blue-eyed gaze. “You tell me. I’m the one who came here to apologize.” She pulled away and shifted one foot to put some distance between them. “You could have saved me a trip if you hadn’t hung up and taken your phone off the hook.”
He gave her a halfhearted shrug, “What can I say? I had a rough night.” Jackson pulled her into a hug that probably would have been short and sweet, had she not wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.
“Thank you, Jackson,” she spoke into his chest. “You and Bill have been lifesavers for the girls, and for me too.”
He pressed her head to his chest, gently cradling her as his right arm tightened protectively around her shoulders. “I’d do anything for Toby’s girls.”
She turned her face and pressed her nose up against his shirt. Her senses fired on all cylinders, overloaded and exploding. She had the strongest urge to flatten the palms of her hands over the cottony fabric, to push it tight against the twelve pack abs. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of freshly laundered cotton, lifted her face until her nose cleared the V-neck collar.
Intoxicated by the scent of pure, masculine Jackson, she forced herself to loosen her grip on his waist. When he released her, she grabbed the opportunity to back away.
“I’m glad you’re better, Giselle.”
“Thank you.” She coughed and cleared her throat.
“That dog didn’t bite you, did he?”
She shook her head, her face heating again as she remembered the sight of him in that towel. “Bill told me to wait outside, but that dog came after me. I ran inside and when I turned around, you were there. And, uh, sorry about that,” she finished
lamely.
“I’m sure I’m not the first man you’ve seen in a towel.”
“No. I just never expected to see my boss in that state of—undress.” She fanned her face. “Is it just me or is it kind of warm in here?”
“It’s just you.” He turned and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the grin that covered his face. Oh yeah, he was enjoying this.
“Speaking of work,” he said, clearing his throat. “I heard an ugly rumor that you may not go back.”
She took two steps back and turned away from him. “I’m considering staying home, now that it’s just me and the girls. Toby picked up a lot of slack for me around the house when we were trying to meet project deadlines.”
“I could make sure you wouldn’t have to work any overtime.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to Carrie or anyone else, Jackson.”
“Anything you couldn’t take care of during your regular work hours, I’d do for you. Other than the girls’ ballgames, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” he added.
“Not now, maybe, but you could in the future. Besides, I don’t want anybody doing my job for me. If I can’t handle it, I’ll resign, so you can hire someone to replace me on our team.”
“Can you afford to quit working? Are you okay, financially, I mean?”
She nodded. “I never did work for the money. Toby was a good provider. It was just to have someone to relate to other than the two kids. Once the insurance companies settled, we were all set for life. Trust funds and college funds for the girls. Toby took care of us.” She smiled wistfully.
“Of course he did. He was a good man. And a great friend to me.”
She nodded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, then shook it off. She looked around suddenly. “You’ve made some changes since I was here last.”
His brow rose, curiously. “You’ve been here before?”
“It was for a Christmas party about a month after I started at B & L.” She walked over to the furniture to examine it. “Toby and I came over with Sam and Carrie. I remember your furniture was—it was—well, this is better.”
“Thanks. Chloe’s taste really sucked, if truth be told.” He waved his hand. “I bought all this stuff after—after the wreck.”
“You picked it out yourself?”
“Yes, all by myself,” he boasted.
“You’re such a big boy. Yes, you are,” she teased.
“Oh, you’re a riot,” he said, dryly.
“This place looks like you now. Is this all you bought?”
“I got a new bedroom set, too. Oh man, my new memory foam mattress is fantastic. If you’re ever in the market, I recommend one like that. I love my bed,” he said with a deep sigh.
“Really? Our mattress was shot. Do you mind if I check it out? It’s down here, right?” she said, walking toward the end of the hall. Giselle pushed open the door and gasped in unconcealed pleasure at the sight of the huge bed. “Jackson, this is gorgeous.” She ran her hand along the satiny rich wood grain, appreciating the fine quality. She fingered the rich woven fabric of the comforter and walked over to run her hand slowly along the drapes. She knew he’d followed her to the room. “Is all of this new?”
“Yep, I got it all from the display.”
Giselle nodded slowly. “Excellent choice. Now what’s so special about this mattress? Is it a pillow-top?”
He nodded. “It’s unbelievably comfortab—” His breath caught when she sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off her sandals, and stretched out across it.
“I don’t know how you can stand to leave it. It cradles you,” she purred. She curled into a fetal position and released a low groan. “This. Is. Fabulous.”
Jackson froze in the doorway of his bedroom. The sight of Giselle, lying on his bed, moaning in pleasure, was too much for one sex-starved man to bear. For the second time in under a half hour, he had to turn away from her. He cleared his throat loudly as he walked away. “I need to hydrate. You want some water or anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You sure as hell are,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?”
He grimaced as he got to the end of the hallway. “I said, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I need to go. I’ve imposed on Carrie enough.”
“You drove by yourself?” he asked, hoping to change the subject to something mundane. “Where the hell did Uncle Bill go, anyway?”
She followed him into the living room. “I think he went outside. Do you think that Doberman’s still out there? I’m not usually scared of dogs, but that one is pretty big, and mean looking.”
Jackson opened his door then stepped out in his bare feet
“Nope, I don’t see him. Maybe Bill took care of him for you.”
Giselle rushed to the door. “What do you mean, took care of him? He wouldn’t shoot it, would he? It’s not the dog’s fault it’s not penned up.”
“I just meant he’d go talk to the owners. But he did leave. His truck is gone. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. How’s it running, anyway?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Does it need to be serviced anytime soon?”
“I don’t know. Toby took care of all that.”
He opened the driver’s side door and checked the sticker on the windshield. “He had everything done mid-December. See? It even shows when the next service is due.”
She moved in to take a closer look at the windshield. “I remember now. He shows me that every time he gets—I mean—he showed me that every time he got it done.” The sparkle receded from her eyes. “That’s the difficult part for me, you know, trying to remember to speak about him in the past tense. It still feels like he’s going to walk through the door, or pull up into the garage, or—”
“Or call or text you from his cell phone,” he added. “I keep waiting for him to call me to set up a game of basketball.”
She sniffed and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s the little things that set me off, you know?”
He nodded. “I do know. During that first month, I caught myself looking at the calendar because it would have been the beginning of Chloe’s cycle. That’s when she’d get really depressed and difficult. Of course, now I know it was all an act, but the habit is ingrained.”
“How long do you think it’ll take before we stop thinking that way, Jackson?”
He shrugged. “I’ll let you know when it happens, okay?”
She smiled as she buckled her seatbelt and started her vehicle. “See ya.”
“Careful going home, Giselle. Thanks for coming by.”
“It was the least I could do.”
All the way home, Giselle couldn’t rid herself of the mental image of Jackson wearing nothing but that towel. Who knew that body was hiding under those suits, slacks, and dress shirts? Toby had always been in excellent shape, but Jackson—dear God—Jackson’s body was magnificent. Catching sight of Toby’s photo on her sun visor, she suddenly felt a wave of guilt.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” she whispered to her husband’s image. “I guess I’m a little needy right now. It’s been over three months since we made love, and you know how much I enjoyed it, Babe. If you can see me and the girls, watch out for us, will you?”
By the time she got to Kenton, she felt the consequences of both a sleepless night, and her morning outing.
Carrie took one look at her and sent her home for a nap. “Come back after you’ve rested. Sam’s barbequing and all the kids will be here for lunch.”
Giselle gave her friend a hug. “What would I do without you and Sam, and the rest of the family?”
“We’re all just happy you’re feeling better, hon. I don’t mind telling you what a huge relief it is to have you back.”
Once she was home, Giselle walked down the hallway to the master bedroom. She opened the door, stood in the doorway staring at the bed she’d shared with her husband.
She entered the walk-in closet, ran her han
d along the rows of neatly hung slacks, shirts, blazers and jackets. She flipped the tie carousel, sending the banners of silk into a blur of colors. She lifted the lid on the hamper. Gasped when she found the Dockers and Polo shirt he’d worn to work the day before he died. That was the day she’d come home from work and found him dressed up like a princess, courtesy of Mac and Lexie. She smiled at the memory and thought of the shots she’d taken with her digital camera. She’d plugged the memory card directly into the digital picture frame in the kitchen but hadn’t had a chance to view them. I’ll watch it with Mac and Lex later this afternoon.
She picked up Toby’s shirt and carried it with her to bed, teary-eyed and smiling, as she picked off bits of pink feather boa from the navy blue shirt. She curled onto her side and raised the shirt to her face, breathing in his lingering scent before closing her eyes. She let the tears flow freely, quietly mourning the loss of her husband.
Would she ever feel love again? Maybe, but there’s no way she would never feel what she had with Toby. The absolute certainty that they were created to complete each other. Her tears stopped after a few minutes, and she drifted off to sleep, think of a soft bed; one that cradled her and made her want to stay in it forever.
She and Toby were making love, and it was so wonderful. When she opened her eyes, instead of seeing Toby’s sexy brown eyes, she gazed into smoldering, piercing blue eyes. It was still Toby, but with those intense blue eyes. She’d been confused at first. But those eyes, those fabulously sexy eyes lured her in. By the time she knew she wanted more of those eyes, they began to fade away. All of it, the face, the gorgeous eyes, the long, muscular body that had covered hers, filling her completely—vanished. She awoke feeling alone, empty, not to mention confused, and sexually frustrated.
She sat up, searching out the familiar surroundings. The sense of Toby was so strong in the room they had shared together since before the birth of their daughters. They had discussed whether or not to sell their home and buy something larger with more living area. They’d even talked about buying a few acres just outside the city limits and building their own home. He’d mentioned drawing up a floor plan one day, but she didn’t know if he’d had a chance to complete it. Maybe there was something in his office.