Marry Me, Jackson (Best Friends To Forever Book 1)

by Barbara Lohr

  “Wouldn't it be nice to have a man in the house?” Emily asked her cat as she typed. “You know, like Jackson, although you disappear every time the doorbell rings. But then you come to your senses. He likes that.” And so did she. Emily loved to see Jackson with her cat. He had such a gentle way about him. Maybe she’d never appreciate that when they were in school together.

  A few more adds and deletes and she had a rough draft. Printing out the copy, she went over it word for word. But she sure could use a man’s opinion. The paper crinkled in her hands while she considered contacting Jackson.

  Okay, maybe just a friendly call.

  He picked up on the first ring. “Hi, Emily. Okay, what broke?” He must think she was a walking disaster.

  “Nothing today but I need your opinion. I mean, if you have a minute. I decided to put an ad in the paper.”

  “For your nutrition services? Good idea.”

  “Um, no. The ad is for something else. A personal ad.”

  Silence hummed between them. Picking up a pen, she doodled on her printout.

  “Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “You’re not putting one of those weird ads in the Penny Saver are you? The ones we used to laugh at in high school?”

  “No, nothing like that.” The Penny Saver? Most of the ads were for cars, garage sales or lawn services. But on the last two pages personal ads were listed. He’s never do that. The whole town read them.

  “Nope, not quite that desperate.” She tried to sound very businesslike. No emotion in this whatsoever. But she was drawing hearts around her ad. “This is for Lowcountry Singles. Haven’t you seen those signs along the road?”

  Jackson must have been drinking coffee or something because she heard him sputter and choke. “That's a surprise,” he finally said.

  Guys just didn’t get it. “So you don’t think I can find someone?” She put a question mark inside each heart.

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” His voice was low and measured, as if he were holding back. “I’m just surprised you have to look for anyone. Maybe I should set you up with one of the Fixit guys.”

  “I can do this myself.” No way was she going out with someone Jackson knew and saw every day. From what she heard, guys usually didn’t talk about personal stuff together. But what if they did? The thought was too humiliating.

  “It’s just that, in high school you were the girl guys dreamed about.”

  The man was delusional. “They did not.”

  “Don’t kid yourself.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “You’re attractive, sweet, intelligent and funny. You sat in the cafeteria with Josie and Bryn, and half the guys watched you open the tuna sandwich your mom had fixed for you. No one ate Fritos the way you did, waving them in the air as you talked.”

  “That’s silly.” How could he remember those details?

  “No it’s not. And when I saw you cross the quad in college, that hadn’t changed. Not that I could see.”

  Okay, she’d dated a lot in college. “They were never the right guys.”

  His sigh sounded like pure frustration. Maybe she shouldn’t have called. “Emily, I don't know if you would recognize the right man if he was standing in front of you with a sign that said Mr. Right. Choose Me.”

  Whoa. That was a low blow.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  Why had she even called him? “Yes, I’m here.” She stabbed her pen through the hearts a few times.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But you went through a lot of guys.”

  Went through? Sounded like her dating was a bag of donuts. “It takes time to find the right person. You know, to understand their issues.”

  “Issues? So all men have problems?”

  “That’s not what I mean.” He was getting testy. How could she explain this? “Men aren’t always what they say they are.”

  “Some men, but don’t listen to me.” He was treading carefully, the words evenly spaced. “But for what it’s worth, you’d start dating a guy. Decide this was the one. But pretty soon, I’d hear about their issues. Either they weren’t studying enough. Didn’t seem serious about their future career plans. Or they didn’t like the books and music you liked.” The litany Jackson ran through had her breaking out in a sweat. Jumping up, she overturned her chair. Sasha disappeared and Emily began to pace in her small office. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I'm just thinking.” Thinking that maybe you’re right. In her search to find The One, maybe she’d rushed things. Got those baking sheets out too soon. Maybe it took more time to discover if two people were compatible.

  And Jackson had watched all that?

  He blew out a breath. She could picture him running a hand through his hair. Oh, yeah. He’d done that plenty in college during their conversations. Now the thought of that simple gesture weakened her knees. She righted the chair and sat down.

  “Sure. I’d be glad to take a look at your ad.”

  Emily was beginning to regret this call. “I thought that since we’re friends you’d give me your honest opinion. You know, from a man’s point of view.”

  “Glad to do it. And I’m in the neighborhood...”

  No turning back now without insulting him. “I’d really appreciate it. This is important to me and I want the ad to be right.”

  After they ended the call, she tidied up. But while she cleaned up the kitchen, his words weighed on her.

  “Maybe Jackson’s a good influence,” she told Sasha, who followed her to the kitchen, where she stirred the chili. “Doesn’t this smell yummy?” But it needed more chili powder and she added a few shakes. Then she ladled chili into one of her plastic containers for Jackson, as kind of a thank you.

  When the bell rang, she was working on her blog. After she hit Save, she dashed for the door and pressed the button. When she poked her head out. Jackson was taking the steps two at a time. “Come on up.”

  “I’m going to fix that intercom for you. It’s been kind of busy lately.”

  “No hurry. I doubt that in Sweetwater Creek, any bad guys are out to get me.”

  Her tall, extremely handsome friend fixed her with a stern look. “You should take precautions. Stay safe.”

  Aw. After everything he’d said on the phone, his words salved the hurt. Jackson was looking out for her.

  After kicking off his boots, he stepped inside.

  She led him into the living room where she’d left a printout on her old wicker coffee table.

  Jackson sat down, and she handed the ad to him. “Have at it. I didn’t know what to include.” Emily settled on the sofa next to him.

  As he read, she studied his face, his lips moving. “You’re a homebody? What does that mean?” Jackson looked so serious, like one of their professors. Sasha had leapt up to rub against Jackson’s side. His fingers found just the right spot behind her ears. Her kitty squeezed her eyes shut, totally blissed out. Emily didn’t blame her.

  “Homebody means I enjoy doing things around my house. My apartment. I guess guys wouldn’t say that.”

  His fingers flicked the edge of the sheet. Startled, Sasha jumped to the floor.

  “What’s wrong? You don't like it?”

  “I think you're more than this, Emily. You’re fun-loving. Sure, you cook and all that but you’re fun. You’ve got a sassy side. And you’re kind and thoughtful.” He bit his lower lip, as if he might have said too much. “Look, it comes down to this. What are you looking for in a man?”

  She hissed out a breath. “This is harder than I thought.”

  “No, just think about it. Tell them what you hope to find. Set some expectations.” Forearms resting on his thighs, he leaned forward.

  Looking into those eyes, it hit Emily that she was looking for someone like Jackson. Someone who could just sit and talk comfortably with her. A man who would tell her the truth.

  “I suppose you want one of those billionaires,” Jackson said with disdain. “Tall, dark and handsome. H
e’d take you traveling all over the world.”

  Her heart dropped into her bare feet. How could he think she was that shallow? “That is so not what I want. I’d like him to be considerate and kind. If he says he’s going to call, he calls.”

  “Sounds reasonable. So you want someone dependable.” He was scribbling on her ad. She was glad she’d tossed out the sheet with the hearts.

  “And he’d be interested in things I enjoy. You know, and not assume I want to sit in some sports bar watching a game until I can’t stand to look at another chicken wing.” The words came out in a rush. Even she was surprised. Because, yes, she’d done that many times with Eric.

  “Wow.” Jackson set the paper on the table “Is that what dating has been like for you?”

  She met his eyes. “Kind of. I want more than that.”

  “You deserve more. Any woman does.” Jackson looked shocked.

  “Do you think so?” Putting it all out there like that hadn’t been easy. She felt drained from the effort.

  “Absolutely.” Jackson had his arm along the sofa behind her. He jerked forward, as if he might hug her. Did she look that pathetic?

  Oh mercy. She wanted his touch so bad. And that messed up her head. Get a grip, Emily.

  She pulled away, folding her hands in her lap. Jackson got real still. Emily was sitting so rigid, her back hurt.

  Sucking in his cheeks, Jackson relaxed into the sofa cushions. “Spell out what you’re looking for. Don’t leave it up to them.”

  He made it sound so easy. Emily had never been good at asking for what she wanted. Maybe she’d operated on the assumption that guys would just know instinctively. After all, didn’t they have mothers or sisters? Her mind spun.

  “Have I said too much?” His dark brows pulled together.

  “No, you got me thinking. Sounds like I've got some work to do.” Like a little soul searching.

  “Maybe so. And you’ve always had your own ideas.” Looking troubled, he slid the piece of paper toward her on the table.

  “I asked for the truth,” she said softly. “I appreciate it.”

  He knit his hands together behind his head and sniffed. “Man, something sure smells good.”

  “I'm making chili.” But she wasn’t finished yet. “Can I show you the picture I was thinking of putting in the ad?”

  “Sure. Have at it.”

  Running back to the kitchen, she grabbed her phone. When she returned, Jackson was laughing. “What”

  “Nothing” He tried to hide a smile. “It’s just that you look so cute in your bare feet.”

  “I never got around to socks today.” Suddenly self-conscious, she curled her feet up under her. Scrolling through pictures, she came to the Christmas shot and held it out. “What do you think?”

  He took a quick glance. “Should I tell you what you want to hear? Or what I really think?”

  She gently socked him in the arm the way she had in high school. “Be open and honest.”

  “Hey, don’t hurt me.” He rubbed his arm playfully and went back to the photo. “Okay. This looks like a girl posing for a picture for her mother.”

  “Really?” She sighed. “You nailed it. I was at my parents’ house.”

  “I think any man would just like to see you as you are. Emily Sommers. At her best.” Hearing her name so soft on his lips made her mind stutter to a stop.

  “What does that mean?” Her ponytail was slipping and her hands lifted to tighten it.

  “And that should probably go.” He motioned toward her head. “You’ve got great hair. Show it.”

  Great hair? With one good yank of her scrunchie, Emily let her hair fall to her shoulders in waves.

  “That’s a lot better. So pretty.” Jackson’s eyes ran down her hair like a comb that feels every strand. She shivered. He blushed. “Anyway, any guy would want to see you in your own surroundings.” He pointed to her mother’s table in the shot, loaded with Christmas elf figurines. The shelves behind Emily held her mother’s snowball collection. “This looks like an older person’s home. You’ve got a nice, simple place here, with your Monet prints and bright pillows.”

  Sasha had returned. Leaping onto the sofa, she rubbed against Jackson’s arm. After handing back her phone, Jackson gave attention to that tender spot behind Sasha’s ear. Watching his hands, Emily could barely breathe. But back to business.

  “So I have to start over?” This online dating was turning into a job.

  Jackson scooped up Sasha and handed her to Emily. “Here. Why don't you just cuddle up with that sofa pillow behind you and Sasha in your arms? I'll take your picture.” He took out his phone.

  “But I’m not wearing much makeup and I should change clothes.” She ran a hand down her comfy yoga pants.

  Jackson's blue eyes softened to suede. “You look just fine. Cuddly.”

  “Cuddly?” A warm rush flooded her veins.

  Suddenly busy with his phone, Jackson ducked his head, the tips of his ears turning red.

  With Sasha in her arms, she backed against the cushions. While she tried to settle her tumbling thoughts, he snapped pictures on his phone. “Smile. Tilt your head. That’s right. Lift your chin.”

  “You’re bossy.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  She laughed and he kept clicking.

  Then he studied the shots. Deleted a couple.

  Sasha had squirmed from her arms and Emily reached for the phone. “Can I look?”

  Frowning, Jackson clicked on his phone. “Sure. You can choose. I’m sending these to you.”

  Then he put his phone away and hers started pinging. The pictures came over. Jackson took a deep breath. “Be sure to mention that you’re a great cook.”

  “How do you know that?”

  His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You were always baking for guys in college. Remember how I used to sample your work?”

  “Right. Like the cookies I just gave you.”

  “Yes, and thank you.” His eyes grew thoughtful. For a second he sat there and she had to wait. “I felt kind of sorry for those guys.”

  “Why?” She sure wasn’t expecting that comment. “Weren’t the cookies any good?”

  He shook his head. “I loved the cookies. But the guys didn't know they were about to become, you know, your next ex-boyfriend.”

  Ouch. That really hurt. “Trust me, no one was scarred for life.” At least, she hoped not. Now who was being snappish?

  “Probably not.” Reaching over he squeezed her hand. “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But guys aren’t made of stone. Sure, you’d bake them cookies. But after you’d decided they weren’t the one for you, you were on to the next man.”

  Had she really been like that? “I guess I just didn't know what I wanted. Not even after graduation. And then, after three years, Mr. Right decided he was Mr. Wrong.” There. She’d admitted that.

  He tilted his head. “That’s hard to believe. So this time...”

  “...think about it,” she supplied. “Right. I got hurt. Bad.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Her throat swelled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Jackson leaned forward. For a second she thought her he might hug her For a second Emily wanted those arms around her, warm and comforting But that wouldn’t be right and wasn’t why they were here together. As if he could read her mind, he settled back.

  “Thanks for coming,” she managed to get out. “I appreciate the input.”

  “Right.” After running his hands down his jeans, Jackson got up to leave.

  “So did Victoria like my cookies?” It hurt to ask. Not that it stopped her.

  Stretching those muscular arms, he threw her a puzzled look. “Victoria? Heck, no. I shared those with the guys in one of my offices.” He stopped. “I mean, one of the jobs they’re working on.”

  “That’s nice. Guess I should have baked a double batch.” Did she hear someone calling Jackson’s name? Or was that in her head?


  His phone began to bark. If Emily hadn’t been sitting down, she would have fainted. Jackson must have recorded Spartacus and Maximillian barking for his ringtone. She tried to keep a straight face.

  “Sounds like someone’s barking for, er, looking for you.” She could barely get the words out.

  “I’m meeting Victoria Pomeroy here.” He picked up his phone. “So what do you think of her taking space in this building? You’ll be neighbors.”

  Chapter 8

  While Emily gasped for air, Jackson took the call. “Hey, are you looking for me?”

  Since they weren’t standing far apart, Emily could hear Victoria. How creepy. And what was this? Victoria’s high-pitched, whiny voice seemed to echo from outside. Edging past her kitchen table to the window, Emily looked down. Yep. Victoria’s red convertible, black top up, was parked next to Emily’s sensible Toyota SUV. The contrast between the two said it all. Pulling back, she couldn’t let the sick feeling in her stomach show on her face.

  “Okay. Be right down,” Jackson told Victoria.

  Emily’s stomach plummeted. Victoria was opening a shop on the first floor? What a mess. Poor Bryn. The setup would have been perfect. Instead, Emily would have Victoria Pomeroy’s business right below her.

  With Jackson working with Victoria.

  Shoot me now.

  The smell of chili still hung in the air, only now it was making her nauseous. Slipping the phone into his shirt pocket, Jackson cupped her shoulders. The warmth of his hands burned through her shirt. “Hey, are you okay?” For a big guy, he had a very gentle hold.

  “Sure. Fine.” Somehow she found a smile. The warped floor finally went back to feeling level below her feet. Questions flooded her mind. “Has Victoria had these plans for long? Renting the space?”

  She was being bold and she wouldn’t be surprised if Jackson said it was none of her business. Except he was way too polite to say that.

  His hands fell away. “Victoria’s father and I are in business together. Property development. So far, we’ve been a good match. I’d like it to stay that way. All I know about this building is that Victor, Victoria’s father, handled it. It happened very quickly.”

  “You work with her father?”