by Leger, Lori
Toby’s office. She hadn’t been since the accident, and Gordon, his partner, hadn’t pushed her, but it was time to clean it out. Giselle stretched and winced at the familiar kinks caused by this old mattress. Definite candidate for replacement.
A quick glance at the clock told her she’d slept for two hours. She rose from the bed to tweak her make-up and hair, and slipped on a pair of sandals. Snatching her keys from the counter, she walked outside. As soon as the glorious warmth of the midday sun touched her face, she decided to walk the two blocks to the Langley’s home.
During the walk, her thoughts returned to the dream. Those deep, sensual eyes that replaced Toby’s brown eyes continued to haunt her. It didn’t make sense, but she could still see them—piercing and blue, mesmerizing, and sexy as hell. God, she’d like to get one more look at those eyes. She pushed aside her feelings of guilt. It’s just a dream, Giselle.
She approached the Langley home, its driveway street front packed with vehicles. She hit their walk, but the sound of laughter from the backyard had her bypassing the front door. She turned, instead, for the south side of the house—lured by the laughter and happy chatter.
Giselle rounded the corner at a brisk walk, and collided with a large body as firm and solid as a brick wall. A body whose magnificent masculine scent stirred her senses as well as her memories.
She glanced up as two strong hands reached up to balance her, keep her from flying on her backside. She looked up, then froze. Her apology ready but silenced, as her gaze settled on a pair of sexy as hell blue eyes.
“Did I hurt you?” Jackson stepped back to examine her.
“N-n-no. I’m,” she stammered, then let her voice trail off as the sudden realization hit her. Jackson’s eyes?
She inhaled sharply, her gaze locked onto his eyes. His sensual, sexy, piercing blue eyes. The ones from her dream.
“Oh. Oh. My. God”
“What? Are you alright? I’m so sorry. I should have been paying closer attention. I was on my way to your place. Carrie had just asked me to go check on you.”
“I’m okay.”
“Good. Did you have a good rest?”
She nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from those eyes. Finally, feeling a blush start to rise, she forced herself to look away and tried to move around him. “Is everyone back there?”
“Yes, but hold on, now.” He grasped both of her arms in a gentle hold. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m anxious to see everyone, that’s all.” She crossed her arms self-consciously.
He looked around for her truck. “Did you walk here?”
She nodded and attempted to walk past him again.
“Wait…” He grabbed her wrist.
“What, Jackson? Jeez!” she said, desperate to get away from those eyes.
“Was the walk too much? Do you need something for pain?”
She closed her eyes, thinking it would be foolish to pass up an opportunity to explain her strange behavior. “Maybe I pushed it too far today, but I already took something. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
“Okay.” He relented, but held her arm protectively as he escorted her to the back yard. “Look who’s here, everybody.”
Lexie got to her first “Mama! Jackson and Paw Paw came.”
Giselle stole a glance at Jackson before answering her daughter. “I see that, Lex. Have you eaten yet?”
Mac approached. “No, Sam just finished cooking the barbeque.”
“Mama, guess what,” Lexie said in a whisper loud enough for Jackson to hear.
“What, sweetie?” Giselle brushed her daughter’s curls away from her eyes.
“We almost had to eat our barbeque like daddy use to cook it. With that black stuff on it.”
Jackson gave Giselle a curious look. “Did he use some kind of blackened seasoning?”
Giselle suppressed a snort of laughter as Lexie raised her scrunched face toward Jackson. “Is ‘burned to a crisp’ a kind of seezning?”
“Oh,” Jackson led Giselle to a chair. “I get it, now.”
Despite her uneasiness, Giselle laughed over her daughter’s comment. “Toby couldn’t grill a thing without burning it.”
Jackson laughed and shook his head. “He always told me he was a master griller. You want to eat inside or outside?”
“Outside, I think. It’s nice today.”
He nodded. “I’ll bring your plate to you. Do you want anything in particular?”
“I’m hungry, so some of everything.”
As soon as he disappeared into the house, the younger women of the family swarmed her. “What’s going on here today? Is it somebody’s birthday?”
“It’s for you, chick,” Gretchen said.
“Is it?”
“Because we’re all so glad you’re feeling better,” Lauren added.
Giselle placed one hand over her heart. “I’m so touched.”
Carrie spoke from behind Giselle. “We celebrate family and you and the girls are part of it.”
Jackson appeared with her plate and glass of sweet tea. “Here you go.”
“Thanks Jackson.”
“Ladies, are the other men attending to your needs?” he asked the other women.
Carrie waved him off. “We’re fine, Jackson. But Lexie won’t let anyone but you fix her plate, so you’d better get in there.”
“I’m on it,” he said, grinning.
Once he’d left, Trina let out a low whistle. “Honey, he can attend to my needs any day of the week.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Gretchen agreed.
“Either Jackson or Bill, for that matter,” Amanda added.
“Neither of them act big headed about their looks,” Lauren said.
Carrie shook her head. “I think they’re completely unaware they have that effect on women.”
Giselle kept her silence, but groaned inwardly. Oh Lord, please let him be unaware.
She felt a little self-conscious with all the attention, particularly since Jackson seemed to be catering to her. She didn’t need any prolonged contact with him, especially after that dream. Forget dream interpretation. It didn’t take a genius to tell her she was attracted to the man. She stared at his bulk filling the doorway. It took less of one to see why. He wore a blue Polo shirt tucked into a pair of dress khaki shorts that fit snugly around his hips. A nice look, but it didn’t hold a candle to him draped in a towel.
Giselle turned as Carrie cleared her throat, caught her friend watching her. She shifted her gaze quickly to her plate.
The after dinner conversation gravitated to baseball, especially since seven of the eight children in attendance were playing in the summer league.
Jackson took the empty lawn chair beside Giselle. “Are you feeling up to making some of the girls’ games yet?”
She glanced at her daughters playing with the other kids and nodded. “I’ll make them from now on.”
“And speaking of baseball,” Carrie announced, “I heard this year’s Summer Sizzler tournament has been scheduled for the second Saturday in August. Sam, they want you to call the games. You up to umpiring in hundred degree heat again this year?”
“I guess I’ll live for one day,” he groaned.
Jackson leaned forward. “How are the teams formed?”
“Area contractors form teams by cities,” Sam explained. “I’ve seen years when we have five or more teams, and I’ve seen some lean years when only two showed up. I know the Lake Coburn team could use some new blood.”
“You know,” Bill said, “Jackson played some college ball. Are you going to play this year?”
“You played college ball? Where’d you play?” Amanda’s husband, Joe, asked.
Jackson cleared his throat and mumbled an unclear reply.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you, Jackson. Who’d you play for?” Joe repeated.
“L.S.U.” Bill answered. “Louisiana State University.”
“Really? What year was that?�
�� Joe was showing some real interest now.
“I only played one year, and it was nearly 20 years ago.”
“But it was a hell of a year,” Bill said, his eyes shining with pride.
“What position?” Joe asked.
“I pitched, until my injury.”
“Wait a minute! Around that time, my step dad and I went to watch L.S.U. play,” Joe said. “They had a freshman pitcher who blew his shoulder out after pitching a no-hitter the last regular game of the season. He was a Broussard, and real tall. Was that you?”
“Afraid so,” Jackson admitted.
“All this time you’ve worked with Carrie and Sam and we didn’t know. Man, you were a hell of a player. That shoulder injury of yours was a tragedy.”
Jackson shrugged. “It was unfortunate—not tragic.”
“So, that was it. You never played again?”
“Nope. That ended my short lived career. After I had the surgery and completed physical therapy, they wanted me to play first base, but all I’d ever wanted to do was pitch. Besides, they already had the best first baseman.” He shrugged. “That’s when I changed my major to engineering. I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do with my life until then.”
“So, if you hadn’t blown out your shoulder, we never would have met you,” Carrie said. “So, are you thinking about playing?”
“I just might. Do they call practices? I’m kind of rusty,” Jackson admitted.
“Practices!” Sam laughed. “No, they just show up and pray they don’t hurt themselves. Relax, you’re in good shape.”
Amanda coughed. “Understatement,” she said, as a ripple of laughter ran through the women. All the women except Giselle, who was trying like hell not to picture him wrapped in that towel.
Inspired by all the talk of baseball, Sam and the rest of the guys hit the storage shed looking for surplus baseball equipment, which Sam had plenty of. Before long, nearly everyone was out in the huge yard, playing a game of softball.
It didn’t take long to discover that Jackson hadn’t lost his touch when it came to hitting or fielding. Even the women got into the game, all except for Carrie who sat with two year old Ava, and Giselle, who sat next to her to watch the game and cheer. When it was Jackson’s turn to bat, he stood solemnly for a moment then pointed out to right field, drawing hoots and hollers from the other players. He shuffled his feet at the makeshift base and swung the bat a few times to loosen up. He let Joe’s first and second pitches go by, but the third one came right over the plate. Jackson’s bat met the ball with a loud crack and sent it exactly where he’d pointed, over the fence. Lex and Mac screamed with excitement as he trotted leisurely to the bases and finished by stomping on home plate.
“Might be worth going to watch that game this year,” Carrie mentioned. “What do you think, Giselle?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, maybe so,” she stammered, trying to hide the fact that she enjoyed watching him move. She’d been totally engrossed in watching his powerful arms when he hit the ball with enough force and control to send it just where he wanted. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him as he ran the bases with the obvious grace of a natural athlete. She smiled as he easily scooped her two daughters up in his arms for hugs.
She turned, finding Carrie staring at her. The gleam in her eye, along with the satisfied expression had Giselle blushing down to her sandals.
Carrie smiled. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Giselle.”
Giselle concentrated on the monumental effort of brushing a ladybug from her knee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re not thinking anything different from any other woman out here.”
Giselle shook her head, unable to face her. “God, Carrie, I haven’t looked at another man since Toby. I loved my husband.”
Carrie nodded. “We all love our husbands. It doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate the physical qualities of a man like Jackson. And it sure as hell isn’t cheating on Toby. Besides, you’re still so young. You have needs. Trust me, once you get over the initial shock of ‘seeing’ Jackson in that way, you’ll remember soon enough that he’s just a man.”
“This morning,” Giselle began uneasily, “I, uh, saw him with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Long story—involved a dog coming after me,” she said, as Carrie’s mouth pursed. “Toby had a good body, but Jackson … He’s a freaking Adonis under those business suits.”
“Is he?” Carrie made a show of rising from her chair. “Think if I bring a towel out here he’ll model it for us?”
Giselle grabbed her friend’s arm. “You’d better sit your ass down right now, lady.”
Once their laughter subsided, Giselle grew quiet. “I slept in my bed when I got home this morning.”
Carrie nodded, remaining silent.
“His clothes from the last day he worked were still in his hamper in our closet.” She left out the fact that she’d fallen asleep clutching the shirt still covered in her husband’s scent. “I guess I should box everything up. That’s what people on television do, isn’t it? Box it up and give it to Goodwill or Salvation Army? And then they move on with their lives.”
Carrie leaned toward her. “I think we know it isn’t that simple. It can wait. I’m glad you slept in the room, though. Did you sleep well?”
“I woke up stiff,” she said, making a face. “That mattress is shot. The guest bed is a lot more comfortable.”
“You don’t have to tell me. That’s why I slept on the sofa when I was there.”
Giselle nodded. “Something that won’t wait for too much longer is Toby’s office. I need to clean it out one day soon.”
“If you need help, call me,” Carrie said.
“Thanks, but I think that’s a solo job.” After a few moments of watching the ball game, Giselle turned to Carrie. “Did you know Jackson got all knew furniture?”
“Uh huh. He did it the day after the accident. He purged Chloe from the house.”
“Come to think of it, I didn’t see any sign that she’d ever lived there. No wedding pictures, no photos of them together, no snapshots on the fridge or anything like that.”
“Oh, she never displayed any pictures of Jackson.”
Giselle whipped her head around to stare at her friend. “You’re joking, right?”
“I wish I was. That—” She covered her granddaughter’s ears before continuing. “That self-centered bitch had glamour shots and studio shots of herself everywhere, but not a single picture of Jackson on display. No wedding, high school graduation, college graduation, especially when he played ball for L.S.U. Nothing. It was like he didn’t exist. Chloe was one giant ego trip unto herself.”
“Oh my God. What a horrible thing to do to your husband.”
Carrie shook her head. “I always told you there was stuff going on in his home life that you didn’t know about. That’s why I stayed on your case to cut him some slack.”
“And there I was, giving him hell at work, too. I feel so bad about that, now.”
“Let it go, Giselle. He certainly has. So, how’s the new furniture? Bill said it’s nice.”
“Beautiful! A huge improvement over what was there before. Very masculine, sturdy pieces, but all just beautiful and in good taste. It all looks right for Jackson.” She nodded, her mind pulled toward the massive bed. “You wouldn’t believe how comfortable his bed is.”
“Oh, really?” Carrie leveled a gaze on Giselle.
“Oh stop! I tried it out to see what it was like. I swear, sometimes you’re so twisted.”
“I know,” Carrie chuckled. “You can blame Sam. He’s rubbed off, and not in a good way.”
Giselle laughed and turned back to watch Jackson stretch one long, muscular leg, then the other. His fluid movements brought back the image of him walking away in that towel. “Yeah,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’d never want to get out of bed if I had a mattress like that …”
Jackson pulled in to her drive around
4 p.m. that afternoon, and walked Giselle and her girls to the door. He couldn’t help but notice that she seemed a little quiet.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Giselle nodded, rubbed her side gingerly. “It was a wonderful day, but I’m a little tired.”
“It’ll get easier now that you’re moving around more. You’ll feel better in a week or so.”
“I hope you’re right, I’ll need stamina with those two. They only have six more weeks of school.”
“Then we’ll be out for the summer!” Lexie cried, darting between Jackson and Giselle to run through the open door.
Giselle turned to face him, but took a while longer to lift her gaze to meet his.
“I-I guess I’ll see you at Mac’s game on Tuesday.”
He gave an adamant nod. “Absolutely. Would you like Bill and I to pick you and the girls up on our way in?”
Her gaze darted to the cement, to the patio table, to Mac bouncing a rubber ball. “Yeah, I guess that’d be okay. A little before six?”
“We’ll be here.” He smiled, not that she saw it.
Biting her bottom lip, she mumbled a quick goodbye, stepped through the door, and closed it behind her.
Jackson stared at the door for a second. Seeing his uncle watching from the truck, he lifted both arms and dropped them, completely stumped as to what he’d done to upset her.
He climbed in behind the wheel, still troubled at her behavior, and backed out of the drive.
“What’s wrong?”
He turned to his uncle. “I have no idea.”
“What do you mean? Did she say we couldn’t go to the game on Tuesday?”
“No, we’re picking them up on our way in.”
“What is it, then?”
“I don’t know. She won’t look me in the eye.”
Bill’s gaze sparkled with amusement. “She keeps seeing you in that towel.”
“I doubt that,” Jackson mumbled, even as his uncle’s low rumble of laughter reached him.