CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
So we did our best to keep it casual. Easy. We were just two individuals, slaking our mutual lust for one another. Lust that didn’t seem to be sated no matter what we did. But no matter. The important thing, the critical thing, was that no one was falling in love. Keep it moving folks, nothing to see here.
“Do you want to go ahead and order?”
I looked up at the waitress giving me a friendly smile. I smiled back automatically, checking my watch. I’d actually managed to beat Jackson to the diner, and it was still ten minutes before one. I proceeded to order sandwiches and drinks for the both of us—turkey and cheese for me, a Rueben for him—and handed her back our menus. I wasn’t worried that the food would arrive too far before him. Jackson didn’t do late. Come hell or high water, when one o’clock rolled around, he would be here.
The waitress buzzed back around the booth, quick as a flash, and placed two Cokes on our table. I thanked her and stuck a straw in the one with ice. Jackson hated restaurant ice.
I scowled. It seemed like I knew a lot about Jackson’s likes and dislikes nowadays. I’d always known practically everything there was to know about Julian, but Jackson had always been this big question mark. I’d gotten to know him through Julian’s eyes…little brother eyes that saw his older brother as this larger-than-life figure with a perfect life and everything going for him. The past month had been like filling in the blanks. He was still that dynamic figure that Julian made him out to be, but he had his issues, too. He wasn’t perfect, and I was so very glad. Perfection was boring.
We talked about things that didn’t really matter—he loved Iron Man and disliked Captain America—and I was pretty sure that was treasonous. We talked about the things that did matter, like how he’d never been able to measure up to his father’s expectations. His childhood. His growing dissatisfaction with the hours of his job and the senior partner creating rifts between the rest of the staff by endlessly dangling a partnership.
Paramount to me was improving his relationship with his brother, which I wasn’t ashamed to say I harped on. Mostly because now I had insight from both sides. Growing up, Jackson had been more of a father figure to Julian, taking care of his younger, more irresponsible brother when he acted out to get his real father’s attention. Now that they were older, the dynamic had to change. They weren’t pseudo-father and son anymore; they had to learn how to interact as brothers. Or so I continued to lecture.
I knew that he liked to say his favorite team was the Cubs, to show hometown spirit, but his real favorite team was the Red Sox. He liked the History channel and had an obsession with all things space related. I’d almost canceled the channel after a plethora of space specials began appearing on my DVR. I loved a good documentary as much as anyone, but life was too short to watch six hours’ worth of a Mars rover meandering over endless miles of red dirt.
He liked his subs Italian, his chicken southern, and his kisses very, very French. I knew that he was passionate about the law and hated shows on the law. He could never watch without pointing out all the inaccuracies. He was addicted to Fantasy Football, and had way too many shirts with Polo logos. He worked too hard, slept like the dead, and ordered out more nights than not.
And because I was smart like that, I also knew that my casual affair was not going as casually as I wanted. Luckily before I could ponder that further, the bell above the diner door jangled, and Jackson entered the gloom. I glanced at my watch and grinned. The man was like clockwork. One minute before one o’clock.
I half-stood in my seat and gave him a little wave. His face broke into a smile and he began making his way through the crowded room, and I took that opportunity to look my fill. He wore dark-blue Armani very well, and I wasn’t the only one watching his progress through the crowded room. I was, however, the only one who got to stretch up and kiss him. Which I did. A minute longer than was appropriate.
“I thought you were going to be late,” I said in lieu of a greeting, easing back down in the booth.
“You wish.” He shrugged out of his jacket, revealing a sharp pinstriped vest over his crisp white dress shirt. He proceeded to drape the jacket over the edge of the booth, and slid in across from me. “I thought 12:30 wasn’t good for you. My stomach almost ate through its lining waiting for one o’clock.”
“My meeting ended a little early with Torchwood.” I spotted the waitress coming with our plates and told him, “I ordered you a Reuben with fries. I hope that’s okay.”
“Like you read my mind.” He grinned. “Reuben sandwiches are—”
“Your favorite,” I finished. Reuben, Italian, then grilled cheese. And so went the Book of Jackson.
Our waitress dropped off our plates and we thanked her before tucking into our food. “So how’d the meeting go?” he asked.
“Pretty good, actually. They’re definitely on board with partnering with us, but we’re still trying to come to terms on what that means exactly.” I popped a fry in my mouth and chewed a while before continuing. “I’m trying to convince them to have a booth for us in-store, and not just offer us as a contracted service.”
“You think that’ll make a big difference?”
I shrugged, sinking my teeth into another fry. “Undoubtedly. I don’t have the numbers to prove it yet. But being a convenient in-store option has got to be better than being on a list of many contracted providers. Now I have to get them to agree.”
“Why don’t you offer a compromise—a trial period in a small percentage of their stores. If it doesn’t work out, you go back to being a service on the list.”
“Could work.” I stared off into space, thinking. “We could even absorb some of the setup costs. I have to run it by our finance department, but that could be an option.”
“What does Jules say?”
“Your brother is on punishment,” I informed him archly. “He posted another Groupon, so he’s dead to me for the unforeseeable future.”
Jackson chuckled, reaching over to steal a fry. I glanced over at his plate for revenge, only to find it completely empty. Well, not completely. A sprig of discarded parsley and a half-eaten pickle lay on the plate. I blinked. “Damn, you weren’t kidding about being hungry.”
“It’s been a busy morning. I don’t think I’ve even had time to come up for air, more less to eat anything.” He stole another one of my fries, and I finally took pity on him and dumped the rest on his plate. “Thanks.”
“You have to make time to eat,” I scolded. “Food is fuel, you know.”
“Oh my God, you sound like Julian,” he said with a grin. “And I do eat. Today was just ridiculous. I shouldn’t even really be—” He cut himself off visibly, his cheeks going pink. “Well, it’s just been busy,” he finished lamely.
I knew exactly what he was going to say, and what he didn’t want to admit. He didn’t even have the time to power down a NutriGrain bar, but he’d taken time out of his schedule to come downtown and eat lunch with me. It hadn’t exactly been easy for me to get away either, but I’d been determined to make it work. We were two busy people, determined to touch base in the middle of the day. I was pretty sure fuck buddies didn’t do that kind of thing. I thought my cheeks were getting a little pink as well, and I changed the subject.
“How was court this morning?”
“Fine.”
When he didn’t continue, I raised an eyebrow. “Jesus, stop already. You’re talking my ear off.”
He chuckled. “What is there to say? Everything went as planned. We were prepared, so it wasn’t a surprise. My high profile client got exactly what he wanted—an increase in child support, his boat, and the family villa in Tuscany.”
“At least it was a family heirloom of sorts.”
“Yeah, it was. Her family’s heirloom.”
I winced. “Nice guy.”
“Exactly.” He shook his head, mouth a little tight. “Let’s just say there was crying and someone had to be removed before we were even halfway through.”
“Jesus.” I grimaced. “Sounds awful.”
“That’s one word for it.” He sighed. “You know, sometimes I think there’s more to life than fixing the problems of the rich, famous, and unbelievably spoiled.”
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped, mostly because he sounded so disgusted. “You could do something else.”
“Like what? I worked my ass off to get here in my career. Late nights studying, writing tedious legal briefs, missing parties with my friends…passing Contracts which was, quite frankly, the bane of my existence… I may not have had to worry about the financial aspect, but it wasn’t easy. And starting at the firm my father helped found? I think it would’ve been easier if his name wasn’t etched on the glass doors.” His expression hardened. “This is what I sacrificed for. And there are thousands of lawyers that would love to take my place.”
“None of that means it’s still a good fit for you.”
“I love the law, AJ.” He gave me a tired smile. “No matter what bullshit I have to put up with, I love the fact that I get to make a difference, an instant difference, in people’s lives.”
“Then what about pushing the partners to let you do more pro bono?” I paused as the waitress came by and refilled both our drinks. I thanked her and continued after she moved on. “Didn’t you volunteer at Legal Aid at one point? I could’ve sworn Jules said something about that.”
“Yeah, I did. During my senior year of law school.” His brow furrowed as he thought. “It was actually pretty fulfilling work. Helping people who couldn’t afford proper counsel or sometimes couldn’t even understand paperwork they needed to fill out. How do you give someone who barely speaks English a twelve-page contract worth of legalese to sign?”
I hid a smile as his voice picked up enthusiasm. Just talking about it made his eyes sparkle with excitement. I stared at him for a moment, caught up in his enthusiasm, wondering what I could have possibly done to deserve something like him. And wondering what I could do to keep him.
His brow creased at my lengthy silence, and I was suddenly aware that I was gazing at him, moon-eyed. I blinked. “What?”
“You okay?”
“Yes.” I blinked, trying to focus. “Of course.”
His eyes searched my face. “You sure you’re okay? You looked funny there for a minute.”
Like I’d done something stupid and started falling in love? “Funny” was one way to put it. “I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “So is more pro bono something you could see yourself doing?”
“They’re not going to be happy about it. Especially Rawlings. He’s one of the dinosaurs…one of the original founders. He and my father worked together when the firm was nothing but a few desks in a rented office and he never lets me forget it. I don’t see him being jazzed about my plan to increase our time actually helping people.” His mouth tightened. “Helping people. God, how idealistic. My father would’ve fallen over laughing. If he ever did that kind of thing.”
“Jackson.” My hand covered his fidgeting one. I made sure my face was serious as possible so he would know I meant every fucking word. “You are not your father.”
He went still as he met my eyes. As if he knew my every thought. Every word that I wasn’t saying. And then he half-smiled, a little crookedly. His eyes did that crinkly thing at the corners that made my stomach lurch drunkenly. “If I didn’t know better, Avery Jane, I’d say you’re worried about me.”
“What?”
“That you like me. A lot.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I pulled a little at our joined hands, but he wasn’t having it.
“Hell, maybe you even lo—”
“My goodness, look at the time,” I boomed. “I should probably get back.”
I pretended I didn’t hear his soft laughing as he finally let my hand go. I searched my purse for a minute before pulling out my wallet, only to pause at his “you gotta be kidding me” stare. I held up one hand in a placating manner and stuck my wallet back in my bag. “Fine, fine. But our next meal is on me.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” He shook his head and dug into his pocket, pulling out his own wallet. He tucked his card in the billfold and stuck it on the edge of our table.
Some part of me that enjoyed masochism asked, “Will I see you tonight?”
“I have a meeting early tomorrow, so I’m probably going to bed early and get some rest.”
Rest? “You can rest at my house,” I insisted.
“Can I?” He raised a brow. “I was under the impression that was against the rules.”
“There are no rules to this,” I said, flustered, my face growing hot and pink. I sounded about two years old, but anything was better than admitting the truth—I was starting to find it hard to sleep without his big body pressed up against mine. If I got too far away or lost in the mound of covers, he’d search for me sleepily, barely opening his eyes. He’d pull me back, usually putting one of my limbs over his like I was an uncooperative ragdoll.
After the waitress brought back his card, we packed up quickly and walked out together into the balmy sunshine. It was a strange feeling to be so relaxed and carefree in the middle of a workday, but I decided to go with it. A cool breeze lifted and tossed my hair in my face as we walked, and I wished I’d remembered a hair clip. By the time we reached our cars, it looked like I’d been standing in front of a diva fan for twenty minutes.
Out of view of the diner, he finally stepped in closer, crowding me against the car. I went willingly enough, finally able to loop my arms around his neck. “So I’ll see you tonight?” I wrinkled my nose. “For a geriatric night of dinner and ‘rest’? Maybe a little Bingo before we die?”
He chuckled. “Sounds perfect. And don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you this weekend.”
“You will?”
“I will,” he confirmed.
“Well, it is your turn to decide what we do.” I dropped a few kisses on the side of his neck, and smiled when he shivered. His spot. Jackson just so happened to go weak in the knees for that soft, sensitive spot where neck met shoulder. I kissed all around that area but avoided it, knowing it would drive him nuts when I finally did. “What’s your pleasure?”
His voice was kind of shaky. “I’m starting to get some ideas.”
“Oh yeah?” My grin neared Cheshire cat territory, but that was what happened whenever he put his hands on me. It was like a conditioned response at this point. I finally sank my teeth into that spot, and he let out a low groan. “Like what?”
“I think…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I think we should go out on a date.”
“A date,” I repeated playfully. He looked at me earnestly in return, and my grin fell as I realized he was completely, dead-ass serious. “You and me.”
“That would be the two people involved, yes.”
“What do you think we’ve been doing?”
“Having sex.” He slid his hands up from my ass to my waist and lifted me off my feet. Then set me down a few paces away like I was a sack of potatoes. Strong bastard.
I put an indignant hand on my hip. “And what the hell is wrong with that?”
“Not a thing. But I think we should start dating. Getting to know one another.”
“Oh goody.” I sighed, hitting the unlock button on my key fob. “Just what a girl wants to hear.”
“Why, AJ, you sound like you were hoping I’d say something else,” he teased. “Whatever could that be?”
Yeah, well. I couldn’t help it if I was hoping his plans involved the two of us getting horizontal and buck-ass naked. But I knew that look on his face; that determined, not-even-Satan-himself can sway me look.
I smiled. I had plenty of time to prove to him that my way was better. And judging from his swift intake of breath as I brushed by him to get to my car? I could change his mind.
“Saturday,” he managed. “Pick you up at seven.”
“Sounds great.”