by Tigris Eden
“Are you done making fun of me?” Turning in his arms, I step back, eyeing him from head to toe.
“Why, Sheriff, you look mighty fine yourself. Although, I’d say sexy and not nerdy.” I fake pout, batting my eyelashes.
Jackson smirks, then winks.
“Let’s go, darlin'. You know Joey. She wants us on time.”
I grab my flip-flops and my purse and then we are out the door.
Joey’s standing on her front porch when we drive up. Both her hands are on her hips, and she has the goofiest smile on her face. She’s excited about something. Her house isn’t a house at all, but a damn sugar plantation. Complete with a carriage house and slave quarters. It’s been in the Cavanaugh family since the 1800’s. I don’t care for the house, my mom used to clean for Treat's family. But Joey has made the house into a comfy home. I know someone helps her clean once a week, but other than that, she keeps house on her own.
“Girl, I thought the both of you were breaking in a new bed or something. I said brunch not lunch.” She grabs me into a tight hug and whispers in my ear so only I can hear, “Don’t you go worrying about that tramp Vivian. I don’t care if Ava is Jackson’s, we’ll all pitch in and deal.”
I squeeze her. Joey is always sympathetic.
“Thanks, girl.”
Jackson told me to trust him to handle things, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“Pass me the gorgeous girl,” Treat says, reaching for me and tugging me into his arms.
“Hey, Treat.”
“Hey, Honeybee.”
“Get your own gorgeous girl.” Jackson laughs, shoving Treat playfully out of the way. His hand tangles with mine and we head inside.
“Hope you guys worked up an appetite. Joey made hotcakes, sausage, eggs, and cheese grits.”
“I love you both, but you know I only like my grits with salt and butter.”
“I got you, honey.” Joey winks.
This is why I love her. She always remembers the little things.
“Food please. Starved,” Jackson comments, rubbing his belly with his free hand as we head towards the breakfast nook. Joey and I are dressed similarly. Only her long dark hair is in constant motion as she walks back and forth. Treat, as always wears his button up jeans and signature black tee. As we sit down to eat, I notice that both Joey and Treat are throwing glances at Jackson and I.
“What? I got something on my face?” I ask looking at the couple across from me.
“Well, Honeybee, in light of the newest drama in Beauville, we wanted to give you some good news.” Joey waits a few seconds, stringing me along before she shouts, “We’re going to be parents!”
I’m discombobulated. Joey and I talked about having our babies together, but who knows when that’s going to happen for me? I didn’t expect her to wait on me. Maybe a little. Jackson could already be a father. A small part of me is a tad bit depressed, maybe even a little jealous, but an even bigger part of me is insanely happy for Joey and Treat. Jackson and I aren’t married, hadn’t even talked about the possibility of marriage. We’ve only crossed over into relationship territory recently. Everything for us is still brand new. I assumed when Jackson told me to start leaving my stuff at his place that we were taking our relationship to the next level.
“Congrats!” I squawk awkwardly. Jackson grabs my thigh beneath the table, tugging me towards him so he can kiss my forehead. Then shocks the shit out of me when he whispers in my ear.
“You’re up next, Anna.”
I’m next? How does he figure that?
“We want you and Jackson to be the Godparents; and of course Aunty and Uncle.”
“Of course, Joey. I’d be honored.” My voice doesn’t sound as excited as I know it should. I’m still processing. For a moment, it’s as if I’m entering a new step in my life. One filled with babysitting for their date nights and capturing pictures of all the things a cute baby will do. Frankly, it scares the crap out of me. I look to Jackson who has a smug smile on his face. He already knew what this brunch was about.
“You knew?”
“Yeah, they told me the other day.”
“Awesome,” I whisper, shoveling eggs into my mouth.
“You gotta get on the ball, Anna. Make an honest man out my brother here. He was all cranky while you were gone.”
I almost choke on my food, but quickly cover it up with coughing.
It was the same comment my mom had said. Maybe we’re going to be fine, regardless of the Vivian experience. An experience I didn’t want to have to deal with. But life is what it is.
“Anna and I will worry about my honesty. You just keep my niece or nephew baking nice and safe.”
Joey winks at me and I grin back. We eat in silence for a while, until my phone starts ringing. I quietly excuse myself and take the call.
“Anna, girl. I’m heading home to Texas. Gonna make a stop in the pleasant town of Beauville and catch up with you. Make sure everything is everything.”
Talia. Right on time to soak my life in more hell. She is another ordeal I don’t want to bother with. Not when baby mama drama already is unfolding right before my eyes.
“No. You should visit with your family. My best friend just gave me some good news, so I’ll be busy making plans for a family shoot soon, plus Jackson and I have our hands full. I won’t have any free time to spend with you.”
“No worries, girl. We’ll do lunch or something. See you in a day or two.”
Talia hangs up and doesn’t answer when I try to call her back.
“Bitch!” I seethe between clenched teeth. I know the type of person she is. I get it, really, I get it, but in the business I’m in, it’s good to have reputable contacts. Talia helps me get jobs and I help her clients get in front of the camera. I can’t win for losing.
“Everything okay, Anna?” Jackson’s standing behind me, a worried look on his face.
“It will be once I get a total reboot of the last few days.”
“That bad?” Jackson asks, pulling me in for a hug. No matter what, the man always has to touch me. Like I’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Sometimes it’s nice, like now. Other times, I feel he does it so he can control whatever outburst he thinks I’m prone to have. But so far, he’s been there for me through all my emotional drama. So if he wants to hold me when all I want to do is pitch a fit, I’ll let him.
“Yeah,” I mumble into his chest. But immediately look up so I can say, “except for the awesome sex. Everything else, total do over.” His shoulders shake with silent laughter as he hugs me closer.
“Come eat. Then we will finish out the rest of this crazy day.”
Brunch goes as expected. Joey talks about baby things and I promise to throw her a shower and take pictures to rival any magazine shoot I could ever produce. The entire time we talk and eat, I notice how many times Jackson’s phone buzzes or goes off. It’s very distracting, and I know it’s not work. He’d answer that. It was either one of his exes, or it was Vivian. My money is on the latter.
“It’s been great visiting. How long are you in town?” Joey asks.
“Few weeks–”
“Permanently–”
Jackson and I answer at the same time. I look at him and he looks at me.
“Jackson.” I warn, groaning at the blossoming headache that threatens to take over my entire mood.
“Annabelle.” He warns right back.
Joey looks between the two of us and smiles.
“Okay, you two obviously have a lot to talk about.”
“No,” I counter. “We’ve had this conversation. Repeatedly,” I say, clearly exasperated with the way Jackson assumes everything is ironed out.
I’m all about loving Jackson, but I also enjoy my job in New York. Stage One is at the top of the list when it comes to photography. How can he not see how much my job means?
“What time y’all heading to Mom’s?”
“Now.” Jackson grumbles, placing a firm hand on my back and leading
me toward the truck.
“Alright, just gonna clean up in the kitchen and we’re on our way. Can’t wait to see Mom’s face.”
Yeah, Corrine Storme is going to be more than thrilled. I’m not looking forward to going to his mother’s. We had to split the holidays between families, hoping we’d save time and drama. Oh how wrong I was. His mother didn’t mix with the help and since my mom had once cleaned her house, she wasn’t up to mixing business with pleasure. It didn’t matter that my mom hadn’t worked for her in over ten years.
“Annabelle, why can’t you admit you belong here in Beauville?” Jackson questions.
I let out a series of frustrated breaths. We’ve been over this. Several times in fact. It wasn’t whether I belonged. It was about doing something I wanted to do with little to no help. Now Jackson wants me to depend on him for everything. He wants me to trust him fully, yet he refuses to trust me to know my own mind. He wants me to let him carry my world, but he keeps stressing me out about the location of my job. When he told me he’d be the one to gas up the car, I relented. Not because I was giving in, but because the gesture was sweet. He pays anytime we go out, and again I let him. Not because I can’t, but because that’s what Southern men do. It’s how they are raised. He wanted me to live with him, and he’d foot the bill. Well, that was where I drew the line. I own shit. My shit. I may not have my life in complete order, but what chaos I do have in my life, I handle it on my own. My camera alone and the many lenses I use for it cost more than a Ford Focus. A high-end Ford Focus at that.
I’m not a trophy wife and never want to be one. Charities, I have no problem giving to, but I’m not about to run several of them like the Cavanaugh and Storme women do. Joey’s active in many groups, but that life suits her. Not me.
“I never said I didn’t belong here, Jackson. I get this is my home. My mom’s here, you’re here, and Joey and Treat are here.” I try for patience. Something has to give; otherwise, we’re going to continue to go in circles until someone wants off the crazy train.
We are in the truck and I can see the anger simmering in his eyes. It’s a quiet anger not directed at me, but at our complicated situation. We’re in a relationship. From our talk last night, I know we’re serious. Especially if we were talking about babies.
“I’m the Sheriff; you can work from here, or not work at all, Anna. I am more than capable of taking care of you.”
I reach across the cab of the truck and place a hand on his leg. “Jackson, why can’t we take care of each other?”
“We do, I’ll just do the heavy lifting. Let you rest easy for a while. Life hasn’t been the best for you, darlin’. I want to fix that.”
I squeeze his thigh. Life wasn’t good to me, but it’s what made me who I am. I will never forget that.
“Baby, life wasn’t meant to be easy. If it was, we’d all be happy.”
“Well, it’s gonna be easy for you, Anna.”
I could have melted at his words. But I don’t. He’s a silver-tongued devil. I know that better than anyone. I know he means the words, but at the same time, I feel there is a small bit of manipulation at play.
“Jackson, let's deal with what’s happening at your mom’s so we can go home and be lazy.”
A small grin spreads across his face, and his eyes instantly heat and I know he’s on board.
Corrine, Vivian, and little Ava greet us on the lawn. The little girl is clinging to her mother’s leg as she watches the truck park in the circular drive. Jackson leans across the seat to plant a quick kiss on my lips before hopping out of the truck and walking over to the other side to help me out. I open the door myself out of habit, not thinking anything of it, until his mother points it out.
“Jackson honey, where’s your manners?” Corrine croons, pulling him into a hug. “You always open the door for your lady friends. At least you always did with Vivian.”
Direct hit.
His mother eyes me over Jackson’s shoulder, letting me know her comment is for me.
Let the head games begin.
“Mother, you need to hold yourself in check. I got stuff to get done.”
He wanted to say shit, I just know he did. The words almost spill from his lips, but he catches himself at the last minute.
‘Don’t get brand-new with me, Jackson.” His mother scolds.
“Don’t make me, mother, and I won’t.”
Jackson steps back to take my hand in his as we walk into the great Storme mansion. He grew up without his mother for almost eight of the eighteen years he’s lived in this big place. Only after his father died did he move Little Joey and her back in.
Jackson doesn’t pay Vivian or her daughter any attention. Some would call that rude, but I know him. He’s accessing the situation, and trying to deal as best he can. There are two housemaids cleaning as we make our way through Jackson’s childhood home. One is dusting the silk plants that sit on a table mid-landing on a grand staircase; the other is washing the parquet floors on her hands and knees.
Degrading.
Shameful.
Those are the first words that come to mind as the young woman cleans the floor. I feel like this is what his mother does in order to make herself feel better about her situation. There are mops, hell, Swiffer Wet Jets even. But to clean on your hands and knees? That is a big no-no in my book. My mother used to have me do that back home, but that was when we couldn’t afford a mop. The Storme’s can afford a mop. Jackson and the rest of them don’t even balk, but I do. How is this in any way considered okay?
“Hey,” I bend low at the waist. Jackson and the others are already in the next room.
The woman looks up. She’s young like me; she couldn’t be any more than twenty-five, if even that. She’s either Spanish or Italian. Her complexion is flawless.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Anna.”
“Inara.”
“Anna?” Jackson is standing in the entryway looking at the two of us. Inara looks to Jackson and smiles at him in a way that is overly familiar. She even gives him the look.
He’s fucked her. I know it by the passive look he gives her. It’s the look a man gives a woman when he’s had enough of what she’s offering, and he’s at his last nerve with her advances. My eyes grow larger than saucers as I look at Jackson, who is leaning against the wall to the other room. He’s looking at me as if all was right in the world. I look to the girl, Inara, who turns and looks at me with a grin. I walk toward him, reminding myself he was never a saint. Eventually, I was going to run across one of his conquests. But just as I’m about to dismiss her, she whispers low under her breath so only I can hear.
“Enjoy him while you can.”
My feet stop moving.
Just stop.
It’s like there are brakes installed in my legs as I come to a halt.
“Are you coming, Anna?” Jackson asks.
“Really?” My voice is high-pitched. It's bordering the line of sanity, and just plain angry as hell.
He’s not going to address her. I’m not getting involved. The tension is all too obvious between them.
I place my hands on my hips and look at both of them. One so obvious, the other confident in his male arrogance. This is what I have to look forward to. I knew that. A long list of women seven parishes deep and wide that had their hands or body parts on Jackson Storme. Maybe with Inara, he felt he needed to sample the help--who knows? I’ve known men like that all my life, I watched them ogle my mother, and wink at me when they didn’t think I was old enough to understand what was going on. It really shakes my faith in Jackson knowing he would resort to carrying on with someone who his family would consider not good enough.
His mother sees you the same way.
True. I could have it all wrong. Jackson doesn’t seem the type to sleep with the woman just to piss off his mother. Maybe he was truly interested in Inara at some point, but now he’s not. I’m not going to make a scene, it’s not necessary. But I am going to let her kn
ow just what I think of her remark.
“I plan on enjoying him for the long haul, sweetheart, and just for your information, there are these new age wonders called mops, that help with cleaning the floor.”
Then I turn away from both of them and walk right out the front door. I have no business coming to this drama-filled circus. I should have stayed in bed and kept him there with me. I make it halfway down the drive when Jackson tags me around the waist. He lifts me and his voice is harsh in my ear.
“Annabelle,” he growls. “Where do you think you’re going? We got shit to do.”
I struggle for a moment before letting out a puff of air through my lips. “No, Jackson, you got shit to do.”
His arms tighten around my midsection. “I’m getting tired, Anna,” he remarks, sounding as if I am the one putting him out.
“Really, tired already, Jackson? Well at least we made a good run of it, huh?” My voice is strong. Inside I’m breaking.
It’s irrational and emotional at the same time. It’s as if I’m having an outer body experience. One version of me is in his arms, tripping out. The other version is standing just to the right, trying to coach myself into being calm. I don’t listen to that version because I’m still stuck in crazy.
“What’s in the past is in the past,” he says against the side of my neck, his breath hot and moist. He’s touching that part of me he knows is my sensitive spot. Trying to control me by distracting me and tearing down my defenses. I know I’m the one being stupid. But my emotions are careening out of control, like a car trying to avoid an accident, but late on the brake, or in my case, puts their foot to the gas pedal and shoots forward.
“Yeah, well your past happens to extend seven parishes wide, and works inside your mother’s home.”
“In the past, Anna. Leave it there.” He bites out.
How the hell would he feel if we ran into every man I was with? Granted, my list is shorter than his by like, a gazillion, but what I know to be true is, Jackson would have none of it. He handled my ex in New York well, but not without first making it known that I belonged to him. Yesterday and today are my own personal hell, slapped with a dose of Vivian and Inara. Both women are beautiful.