One year earlier

Jackson sat on the edge of the bed and checked his watch one more time. This was ridiculous. “Babe, we really have to go.”

The gorgeous woman standing in front of the full-length mirror moved her hair from her left shoulder to her right shoulder, followed by a tilt of her head and a pucker.

“Okay, okay.” Left. Right. Tilt. Pucker.

“Hon, this isn’t a Hollywood party. You can’t just show up whenever you want. Please, we need to go.”

She turned around with her hands on her tiny waist. “Jackson King, this is an important night. The first time I’m meeting your family and friends. Please don’t rush me. I need to look perfect.”

“But you always look perfect.” That wasn’t a lie.

Left. Right. Tilt. Pucker.

He stood up. “Listen, it’s going to be very awkward when we walk in there and everyone else is halfway through dinner. Or worse, starving because they’ve had to wait for us.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

He followed her ass as she strutted out of the room. It had been in his hands mere moments before. Nothing wrong with that ass, but more exciting in that instant was its movement toward the door.

He drove a bit too fast and a bit too aggressively, but arrived in front of the house with the realization that the last place he wanted to be was inside. He dropped his forehead onto the cool leather of the steering wheel.

“Are you okay, Jackie? Are you having one of your headaches again?”

That word snapped him back up. Again. There’d been too many headaches recently. He could rationalize it was all those hours in front of the computer finishing up his latest book. But he knew the truth. The charade had become nearly unbearable. After too many years, he was still having to conceal the biggest lie of his life and his body was rebelling.

“Come on sweetie, let’s go inside. You can get some water and take a pain pill.”

He turned his head toward the stunning blonde in his passenger seat, giving him that wide-eyed stare that had landed her on stacks of magazine covers. She really was gorgeous.

He stepped out of the car and opened her door. She took his arm and they walked down the garden path to the small, sweet house.

It was time to let go of Camille. Jenna had said this new boyfriend was getting serious. Might even be the one. Despite how little he wanted to witness that with his own eyes, it might be the cure he needed. So he could finally let go of the impossible fantasy.

The door swung open as he raised his knuckles to knock. And there she was, beaming at him with the face that was… everything.

“You guys made it!” She jumped into his arms for a quick hug, then extended her arm. “You must be Katrina. Hi, I’m Camille.”

---

Dinner was perfect. Jenna and her new guy Edward, Jackson and Katrina, and Camille and Charlie crowded around her slightly-too-small table. But it didn’t matter. Camille had cooked a brilliant meal and the house looked beautiful. The only problem was that Jackson’s head throbbed all through the meal. He refused to take anything. It was going to be a constant reminder of the ridiculous situation he’d created. And the need for change.

They all convened to the living room after dessert. Jackson was thankful to get up from the table, hopefully far enough away from the others that he didn’t have to keep watching Charlie stare at Katrina. That wasn’t the only thing that rubbed him the wrong way about that guy, either. Something a little too… entitled… about him. Perhaps the staring was to be expected, though. Katrina’s life’s work was to make people look at her. And she was very good at it.

Personally, he couldn’t take his eyes off Camille. This new level of domesticity was a shock for him to witness. But it seemed to suit her. She looked happy. Despite his early impressions, maybe this was the guy who would do right by her. Maybe they’d get married and live long, happy lives together. He escaped to the kitchen to take a breath, bolts of pain pummeling his forehead. He dropped his head into his palm.

“Hey, Jackson, are you alright? Another one of those headaches?”

The sound of her voice was enough to ease the tension. The fingers on the back of his neck felt like magic.

He lifted his head to give her a grateful smile. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

She gave him a look that indicated she knew it wasn’t. “Want to lay down or something?”

With you. “No.” He looked around the room. “Dinner was amazing, fry. Your new nickname might have to be Martha. As in Stewart.”

She gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Yes, I know who Martha Stewart is, dummy. And please no more nicknames.”

“So, it was nice to finally meet Charlie. He seems like a good guy.” What was one more lie?

“Yeah… he’s been… great. This whole thing was his idea, actually. He was getting mad that I hadn’t introduced him to all the people I kept talking about.”

Interesting. “Why do you think that is?”

She squinted at him. “Don’t go doctor king-ing me right now. No deep psychological meaning under there. I just wanted to make sure the relationship was stable enough before I brought him in.”

“Is it?”

She furrowed her brow.

“Stable enough?” he clarified.

“He’s been using the L-word a lot lately. Thankfully, he hasn’t been pressuring me to use it.”

She hadn’t actually answered his question. A smile began to replace Jackson’s previously pained expression. “Why is that?”

“Ughhhh, Jackson, can you please stop with the analysis? You know me. I’m not an I-love-you right off the bat kind of girl. It doesn’t mean I don’t. It just means that I’m not ready to say it.”

His smile broke into a wide grin. “That’s okay, Cam. Sometimes we can’t help who we love. Or who we don’t.”

She frowned at him. “You’re doing that thing I hate. I’m going to bring out another bottle of champagne. Can you try being a little less you while I’m gone?” She laughed as she walked away.

Jackson strutted back out into the gathering with renewed energy, and sat next to Charlie, who was making his way over to Katrina, one inch at a time. Jackson surprised him with a vigorous slap on the back.

“Hey, there, Charlie! What’s up, man?”

Charlie coughed and took a moment to wipe the shocked expression off his face. “Nothing much, Jackson. How about you?”

Jackson sat up taller. He was going to win this pissing match. “Oh, just happy to be here with all my favorite people. And glad I finally got to meet you. We were starting to think Cam had made you up.”

The shift in Charlie’s body language signaled that the challenge had been accepted. “Oh, no worries. I’m definitely real. But Cammy and I have been really busy. Together.”

“Good to hear. Good to hear. So, what keeps you busy? What do you do?”

Charlie leaned back into the couch. “I run my family’s jewelry business. We’re headquartered here, but we’ve got stores all over the world.”

“Wow, man. That’s awesome. And we know diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” He winked, which left the other man with an odd frown.

“And you, Jackson? What do you do?”

“Oh, I-”

“Are you kidding? You don’t know who Jackson King is?”

Everyone turned to Katrina, who had momentarily paused her preening to voice her indignation.

Jackson patted her knee. “It’s okay, baby. I just wrote a few books. They’re not for everybody.”

Charlie sat forward in his seat again. His relaxed demeanor had vanished.

“Oh, yeah? Books? What kind of books?”

Jackson waved his hand. “Super boring. Nothing you’d be interested in. I’d love to know more about the jewelry business, though.” He slid the sleeve of his shirt above his left wrist. “Check this out, man.”

Charlie’s eyes popped open as he recognized the rare watch. “Wow, that’s quite a timepiece.”

“I know, right? Best gift I’ve ever gotten. From Camille, of course.” Jackson took a sip of his drink and relaxed back into his seat. Match - won.

“Jackson!” Jenna popped up out of her seat. “Can you give me a hand in the kitchen? I need to reach… something… on a shelf.”

He gave Charlie a pat on the shoulder, much more gently than the first time, as he stood up and followed his sister into the kitchen.

They proceeded past Camille, who was leaning against the sink, and out the back door onto the small patio. Jackson didn’t like the look on Cam’s face, but didn’t have time to investigate while following his sister’s brisk pace.

“What the fuck are you up to? What you’re doing in there is nine layers of uncool. Do you hear me, Jackson?”

“Whoa, calm down, Jen. What are you talking about?”

She sighed in exasperation. “Don’t be an asshole. You’re trying to intimidate Charlie. It’s obvious to everyone in that room. As if you had some kind of claim over Cammy. Until you grow a set, dear brother, that’s never going to happen.”

There were few people on the planet that Jackson loved more than his baby sister. But at that moment all her sweet, golden goodness was lost on him. He saw red.

“How dare y-”

“Nope. You’re not going to do your psychobabble manipulation. You have no leg to stand on here. Or have you forgotten that you are at this party with your bimbo-du-jour? What? Are you going to ask Katrina to step away while you profess your undying love to Camille? Is that your master plan?”

It felt as if someone was inserting a railroad spike between his eyes. He reached out to a table to catch his balance.

“Jack! What’s going on? Are you alright?”

He slowed his breathing and focused on the slate pavers. He looked up at his sister when the intensity diminished. “I don’t want to fight with you, Jenna. I’m not sure why you’re so heated up about this - it has nothing to do with you - but I want you to know that I’ve heard your concerns.”

“Fuck you, Jackson. Don’t dismiss this.”

He slammed his hand down on the table. “What, exactly, do you want me to do? Hmmm? You’re the only person in that room who knows what’s going on. So would you please, just give me a goddamn break?”

The rage that had brought a flush to her cheeks began to pass. “I’m not trying to attack you, Jackson. I’m just frustrated. With both of you. It should just be easy.”

“I’m not sure things like this are ever easy, sweetheart.”

“Attacking her new boyfriend is not the way to her heart. Doctor Jackson King is much smarter than that.” She touched his temple. “Sorry you’re not feeling well. Can I do anything?”

“No. I have to take care of this situation myself.”

Jenna wrapped herself around her big brother. He kissed the top of her head, with a growing gratitude for the reality check she’d just given him. The back door swung open, startling both of them out of their lingering hug.

“Hey, you guys! What’s going on out here? Party’s still going on inside.”

Camille’s words floated over him as he watched her wipe her hand on her skirt, then tuck a stray hair behind her ear. Her smile brightened the encroaching darkness of the night.

“Sure, fry. We’ll be right in. Love you.”

“Love you too, Jackson.”

His sister put her palm on his chest and shook her head.

---

Camille stepped back into the living room. Her dinner party had gone terribly wrong. Both Charlie and Edward had given up trying to pretend not to blatantly stare at Katrina, who hardly looked up from her phone. Jenna and Jack were outside doing God knows what. She hoped they weren’t fighting, but they both looked upset.

She cleared her throat to confirm her presence in the room. Everyone jumped.

Charlie smiled awkwardly. “Hey, babe. Everything alright?”

“Yes. Sorry I took so long in the kitchen. Anybody need anything?”

No one answered. Large, warm hands wrapped around her waist, causing her own silent shock.

“Why don’t we play a game?” said Jackson from behind her, perching his chin on her shoulder.

Eyes opened wide, mouths stayed closed.

Jenna entered the room. “That’s a great idea!”

Camille really wanted Jackson to move his hands and body off her. She took a big step forward. “What should we play?”

“How about Truth or Dare?” Charlie finally spoke up, but what came out of his mouth was certainly suboptimal.

Katrina made a face as if she’d smelled something bad. “Isn’t that a bit juvenile?”

“Oh, come on, Kat. It’ll be fun. And a great way to get to know each other.” At Jackson’s comment, Katrina batted her voluminous eyelashes and smiled.

Jackson picked up his glass of water from the coffee table. “I think we should do teams. Couples. No actual couples or siblings. Which leaves me with… Camille.”

Her eyes flitted between Jackson, who grinned, and Charlie, who glowered.

“I pick Katrina.” Edward spoke up.

“I guess it’s you and me, Charlie.” Even Jenna couldn’t muster excitement for that.

“Uh… how do you play Truth or Dare with teams?”

“Good question, Charlie. Let me explain.”

Something about the way Jackson spoke to Charlie made Camille’s stomach turn. She wished she knew what was going on with him. Did he have something against her new boyfriend? Is that what he and Jenna were arguing about?

It wasn’t like Jackson to be so rude. Or passive aggressive. Camille swore under her breath, wondering how her closest friends had turned her lovely dinner party into an awkward collection of pained expressions. “Why don’t I get a few more bottles first?”

“I’ll help you!” Jenna moved faster than Camille had ever seen and led them both into the kitchen. She went straight to the fridge and pulled out two more bottles of champagne.

“Hey, Jen, what’s going on with everyone? Especially Jackson?”

Jenna didn’t stop unwrapping the foil covering the cork. “Nothing to worry about, Cam.”

“Hmm… Are you guys fighting?”

Jenna spun around to face her friend. “No, hon, we’re not fighting. He’s just… you know… he’s so protective of you. It’s new for him to see you this… close… to someone. Please don’t worry about it. Your party is perfection. Seriously.” She handed Camille a glass of champagne filled to the brim. “Nothing that a bit of bubbly can’t fix.”

Awkward silence greeted the two women as they returned. Camille swallowed a pervasive sense of defeat.

Jackson accepted his glass from Jenna. “Great. So here’s how it works. One partner will choose truth or dare and the other will provide the question or situation. If the truth isn’t told, or the dare isn’t completed, another couple has the chance to steal, using the same questions asked. So, we’ve got six rounds. The couple with the most points wins. Got it?”

Katrina opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She emptied her glass.

Jackson continued. “I think it should be ladies first. Agreed?”

Silence.

“Okay, I’ll go first. And I choose dare.” Thank God for Jenna. Always game.

Charlie looked at her as if she had grown an additional nose or breast. He stared, unspeaking.

“Hey, Charlie, there’s an app that has great Truth or Dare questions if you can’t think of any.” Jenna tried to encourage him with a forced smile. “Maybe we should all take a look.”

Four hands simultaneously reached for four phones. Camille didn’t shift her attention from Jackson. “You already know what you’re going to ask?”

“I do. And you?”

“I’ll wing it.”

His laugh brought all the scattered attention back to him. And to them. There wasn’t enough champagne to make that feeling of dread go away. This was a bad idea.

Charlie rubbed his hands together. “I’m ready now. I’ve got a dare for you, Jenna.”

She sat forward in her seat. “Go ahead.”

“I dare you to kiss Camille. On the mouth.”

Jenna’s lip curled in the clearest display of disdain Camille had ever seen on her sweet face. She might have even rolled her eyes. “Oh, I see. We’re playing that kind of game. Okay.”

She got up, walked around the coffee table to the middle of the couch, took Camille’s face in her hands and kissed her. For much longer than anyone, including Camille, was expecting.

With no hint that anything extraordinary had just happened, Jenna returned to her seat and smiled. “Done. How many points is that?”

Camille heard Charlie swallow from across the room. “Damn,” he grunted.

“That’s one point for Jenna. Well played, sis.” Jackson looked around the room. “Who’s next?”

Not that Camille tried, but Katrina easily took the slot.

“It’s dare for me.” She winked and sent Jackson a kiss.

Edward sat up taller in his seat. “Your dare is… do a lap dance.”

Camille groaned, exasperated. “Are we really going to have all the women live out your fantasies?”

Jackson tapped his chin. “Well…”

“Oh, I’m fine with it.” Katrina had already stood up. “I just don’t know who I’m doing it for.”

Jackson beamed. “I think the hostess should continue getting all the attention.”

Edward nodded. “Yeah. Great idea, Jackson. For Camille.”

The smiles among all three men were completely outmatched by the frown on Camille’s face.

“Wait, I’ll put some music on.” Jackson fiddled with the bluetooth system accessed through his phone until a popular song rang through the house. Katrina did not miss a beat. She strutted over to Camille and undulated her body to the beat. It crossed Camille’s mind that it might not have been Katrina’s first time.

It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, Katrina was pretty remarkable to look at. Physically perfect, as far as Camille could tell. And she could dance. She might have crossed the line just a bit with her grand finale of pushing Camille’s face into her impressive breasts, but it did take Camille’s mind off the worrying turn of her dinner party. When the song ended, Camille stood up and applauded Katrina with the same vigor as everyone else in the room. In response, Katrina gave a theatrical bow and blew a series of grand kisses.

“Wow. Katrina earned her point. Nicely done.” Jackson turned to the last remaining woman in the room. “And you?”

“I choose truth.”

He smiled, giving her that look she had long understood to mean he already knew what she was going to say. She shook her head, annoyance mounting and mingling with concern about what devious request he would make of her.

“Tell us, dear Camille, in great detail, an unfulfilled sexual fantasy.”

A gasp and some rustling from across the table didn’t pull her laser focus from Jackson. Whatever game he was playing, she was going to win. She slowly crossed her legs and pursed her lips. Borrowing from Katrina’s playbook, she even flipped her hair.

“Let’s see…” She took a generous gulp of champagne. If her heart weren’t beating so damn hard, she might have appreciated the dead silence of the room.

“We’re in a car. All dressed up, probably. Watching him drive, the muscles of his arms flexing, is turning me on. I run my hand along his thigh and rest it between his legs. I can feel the revving of the engine through his taut body. I squeeze and he hardens beneath my palm. His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he weaves in and out of traffic. We’re going fast.

“He takes one of his hands off the wheel and slides it under my skirt. His fingers slip beneath my thong and stroke me. By the time he presses into me, I’m so wet and wound up, I come almost immediately.”

Somebody moaned. Camille continued. “He pulls his hand out, puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks. I nearly come again.

“He turns into a parking lot and stops the car. Without saying anything, he slides his seat all the way back and I straddle him. I free his rock hard cock from his pants. He positions my hips and enters me. Right there, in the middle of a parking lot, where anyone can see, we fuck. Like crazy.”

Camille took a breath and looked around the room. A series of shocked, flushed faces stared back at her. A satisfied grin escaped from her own face. None of them had to know that the other participant in her fantasy was not, in fact, her boyfriend.

---

Jackson aggressively thought about his grandmother. And puppies. And golf. Anything to subdue the raging situation in his pants.

“Okay, then. Whose turn is it now?” Camille’s voice did not help.

Roadkill. Stock market crashes. Starving children.

“Holy shit, Cam.” Jenna fanned herself. “I’m not sure we can go on after that. You might have just closed the game down.”

“That’s not fair! The guys didn’t have to do anything humiliating.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “Was that humiliating for any of you?”

The women answered in near unison. “Nope.”

“Still not fair,” Camille said.

He could not stop staring at her. He could just picture himself in that car with her. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll go.” It couldn’t be any worse than managing what had now become a recognizable ache.

She turned her head so slowly, he almost died with anticipation. “Truth or dare, Jackson?”

“Truth.”

“Excellent. Tell me… what scares you the most?”

He hoped she hadn’t noticed his involuntary flinch. How could he tell the truth and hide it at the same time?

He looked around the room, eventually catching his sister’s eye. She nodded. He could do this.

“I’m afraid that the vision I have for my life won’t come true. That everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve and create will be meaningless because the one, most important thing, will be missing.”

He shifted in his seat. “I’m afraid that I might be too late. That what I’ve been waiting for, planning for, is already out of my reach. I’m terrified I won’t know what to do if and when I ever get the chance to…”

Words did not fail Jackson King. Ever. But he couldn’t continue, so they all sat in silence.

Had anyone else in the room understood what he was concealing? His sister certainly had. Perhaps Katrina as well? Did he want Camille to know he was talking about her?

Jenna stood up. “It’s getting late, everybody. After that inspirational round from my brilliant brother, I think we’re going to have to get going. Team Cam-n-Jack take home the championship. Well played, everyone.”

Jackson stood up. His sister had saved him. The other men in the room looked bored or confused. He couldn’t tell which. Katrina yawned. He refused to look at Camille. It would have been too much.

“I guess we’ll head out too.”

Jenna picked up an empty bottle and two glasses. “Jackson, help me clean up a minute.”

He gathered two handfuls and followed his sister into the kitchen, prepared for another talking-to.

As soon as her hands were free, she wrapped him in a hug. “I love you, Jackson. It’s going to be alright.”

He relaxed in her arms. “Thanks, bunny. Love you.”

She pulled away and chuckled. “You mean you’re not mad at me for making out with your girl waaaaay before you?”

“Oh, you’ll pay for that.”

---

Goodbyes were brief, which was for the best. Jackson’s headache had returned and he’d have to figure out how to deal with Katrina. She’d stayed uncharacteristically quiet for most of the night, which only meant one thing. She had an enormous amount to say about someone or something. All he wanted was to get home, close his eyes and replay that scene in the car, over and over again.