CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
When I’d pestered Jackson about what kind of outfit I should wear for our date, he’d told me really casual. I was mystified, but I figured you could never go wrong in jeans. I checked my jeans in the mirror to make sure they made my ass look big. Check. I was never above an optical illusion to make my waist look smaller, and I was honest enough to admit it. The doorbell rang as I was spraying some body splash and walking into the perfumed cloud.
“Coming!” I called out with no idea if he could hear me or not.
I flipped my hair upside down and spritzed a little on the underside. In the commercials, when they flipped their hair back, they had the perfect amount of volume. When I flipped my hair back, I looked like a wild animal. The doorbell rang again as I was smoothing my hands over my Lion King-worthy mane.
“Coming!” I repeated. Again, no idea whether he could hear me or not. Judging from the way he pressed the doorbell again, I was leaning toward not. I grabbed my wedges in one hand and headed for the door.
I opened the door to Jackson standing on my front porch, hands jammed in the back pockets of his stonewashed jeans, as if he hadn’t been the one ringing my bell like a demented Quasimodo. His AC/DC shirt molded to his well-muscled torso like a second skin, and he had a Cubs baseball jammed over his hair, which I promptly took off to annoy him. I tipped up my face and he leaned down to give me a brief kiss, his face more than a little amused.
“Please don’t tell me you were doing the hair thing again.”
“They make it look so easy on the Aussie commercial,” I said wistfully.
“I think your hair looks fine the way it is.”
“And that’s why I keep you around,” I informed him. “You coming in?”
“Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“It’s the thing to do, Jackson.” I blinked at him innocently. “Someone shows up at your door, you invite them in.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” he repeated with a sweet smile. “Because I’m going to come in and you’re going to do your Avery thing, and as usual, I won’t be able to resist. We’ll be naked in less than five minutes.”
“But—”
“So grab your purse and keys, and let’s get going.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, sticking my feet in my wedges. I grabbed my purse off the table by the door, stuck my keys in my pocket, and stepped out on the porch. I flipped the lock and pulled the door shut behind my back. “Do I at least get a real kiss?”
He stepped in closer, and the intense look on his face had me stepping back a pace almost automatically. Those eyes were suddenly alight with promise and heat, and I realized he wasn’t quite as unaffected as he pretended to be. I came up against the door, the wood warm and solid against my back as he placed a hand on either side of me. My breath stuttered in my chest as he leaned down slowly, his mouth taking mine, all hard and soft at the same time. One kiss blended into two, which quickly turned into three as we devoured one another right there on the porch. And despite the fact that we were providing quite a show for any neighbor who bothered to look, I couldn’t seem to stop kissing him back.
Finally ending the kiss, he stepped back, putting some distance between us. He cleared his throat. “Come with me.”
“Where we going?” I managed.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Will I like it?”
“Better than the other things I want to do to you? I doubt it.” He grinned. “But you’ll have fun nevertheless.”
I scowled and jammed his cap back on his head. I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved hat hair more.
We made idle talk as he drove, in no particular hurry to get to our destination. He told me about his work at Legal Aid that day, and the back-to-back consults he’d had nearly all day. He was now pretty sure he’d romanticized his legal clinic years because they’d been in the rearview window, but he was still happy with the new direction his work was taking. Which was good to hear. Frankly, I was always a little worried when I made a suggestion that the person would blame me when if it didn’t work out. Like when I’d made a simple suggestion that a teenaged Lane would look better with a perm. Some things you just never lived down.
When he inquired about my day, I told him about Julian’s horror when a customer spilled a jumbo-sized Jamba Juice on our intake counter. Jules had nearly had a meltdown, pushing back the rush of peach smoothie with his fingers from a customer’s iPad and screaming for paper towels. Walter, one of our intern techs, had rushed in with some of the threadbare paper towels from the bathroom and Julian had screeched, “For the love of God, someone bring me some Bounty! Does this not look like a better picker upper situation to you?” Jackson laughed over the visual for a good five minutes, clearly enjoying someone else being saddled with his brother’s dramatics.
I trailed my fingers out of the window, enjoying the cool breeze on my fingers, good conversation, and good company. As far as a date went, it was already ranking up there with the best, and we hadn’t even gotten to where we were going yet. Wherever that was.
Jackson remained close-mouthed about where we were going, but three miles from our destination, I’d already figured it out. Every now and again there were signs proclaiming the wondrous nature of the county fair, and when I pointed out one and wiggled my eyebrows, he finally caved with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah. You got me.”
“It’s still a surprise. I don’t think I’ve been to a fair since I was in high school.” I thought about it. “No, middle school.”
“It’s not too juvenile?” He sounded adorably worried, and I rushed to assure him.
“It sounds like a blast. I think I even said I’d come a few times when they were in town, and something always got in the way.” I smiled. “I think you might win the prize for most creative date.”
He didn’t say anything, but his ears flushed, the small smile on his face told me he was clearly pleased. When we got there, he paid for parking a couple blocks away, and I was thankful I’d gone with a wedge I could walk in. I tucked my wallet and phone in my pocket and stashed my purse in the trunk, and then we joined the crowd of people migrating toward the entrance.
First order of business? We hit the rides pretty hard. We hit them like a couple of demented circus monkeys hopped up on sugar. To be fair, we had plenty of that, too—caramel corn, cotton candy, and a deep-fried Snickers bar each. I was going back on my diet tomorrow. Well, after I made waffles for breakfast. So Monday for sure. Unless someone brought donut holes. Then it was really anyone’s guess.
As I waited for Jackson to buy tickets, sitting on a bench, a smile crossed my face. I’d forgotten what a blast the fair could be, with all those whirling lights, colorful signs, and noise. Children raced through intermittently, screaming for no reason at all, determined to enjoy every second. It was a feast for the senses—clowns with balloons, booths with games, a particularly fragrant petting zoo with only a few mildly interested animals…it was a colorful, beautiful mess.
Jackson finished buying ride tickets and strolled up to me, a lollipop stuck in his jaw. He handed me the ream of pale gold tickets with a grin. “Your turn to choose a ride,” Jackson said. “What’s next?”
What was next? I had no idea. I just knew I was having a damned good time. “I gotta tell you, I wasn’t expecting this,” I said, standing.
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Dinner? A club. A movie?” I gave him a mischievous smile. “A place I don’t have to wear bug spray?”
“You can do those any time. This is better. Different.” He kissed me on the neck and pulled back, licking his lips with a grimace on his face. “Okay, you’re wearing way too much bug spray.”
I shrugged. I’d bought some from a vendor about fifteen minutes of arriving and used it liberally. Whatever combination of scents I was wearing made me into the human version of a poo poo platter for the tiny, blood-sucking creatures. In fact, I had a new name suggestion for my body splash if they ever got tired of Ocean Mist—Mosquito Delight would probably fit the bill nicely.
“Have you seen the size of those mosquitoes?” I demanded.
His smile shouldn’t affect me the way it did. Shouldn’t make my knees a little weak. It was a bad sign when you were so far gone, you could manage to smile over mosquitoes. We stood there, grinning at each other like loons before I cleared my throat. “All right, so we have a choice here. Games or rides?”
He gave me a look like I was deranged. “More rides, of course. As many as we can.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re not scared, that is.”
Hmph. I wasn’t going to let him show me up. Even if most of the rides looked like they’d been put together with duct tape and a good heaping of hope and prayer. We rode one thrill ride after another, each title promising more terror than the last, skipping kids in line and acting like complete hooligans. It was probably the most fun I’d had in years.
I finally begged off in front of a ride called Medusa’s Wrath. “Mercy,” I said, shaking my head. “Mercy, dammit.” I hadn’t even updated my will yet. I was pretty sure Julian still got my BMW, and after the Groupon fiasco, I’d promised to disown him.
“Jesus. I thought you’d never cave.” Jackson pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “I thought I was actually going to have to ride that thing.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“And let you show me up?” He scoffed, “I don’t think so.”
I hit him in the arm, and he pulled me in close as we walked. Luckily for him, I had something else on my mind. Foood. The more booths we passed, the higher my nose lifted, trying to discern one delicious greasy smell from another. The longer we walked, the more I was afraid it might be permanently fixed that way.
“Greek?” I asked hopefully as we passed, giving the booth a longing look.
“Nah.” Jackson, who apparently didn’t care if we ever ate again, took my hand in his. “So middle school is the last time you came to a fair like this?”
“Yeah. Lane and her friends were going after school, and I was determined to come. I begged my mom to make Lane take me, and she did.” I grinned. “Lane just loved that.”
“I bet,” Jackson said with a laugh. “I’m starting to understand why you and Julian gravitated toward one another. He was my pest. I had to drag him along every damn place I went.”
“Hey, the oldest always got to do more. It was all we could do to tag along.”
“Well, the youngest always gets away with more. Parents have lost their will to live by the time you guys come along.”
I grinned. “Sounds like sour grapes to me.” The scent of grease wafting by my face reminded me of my true purpose, and I tried to float another food idea. “Nathan’s is pretty tasty,” I said as we passed a spinning rotisserie of goodness, dripping fat into a pan below.
“Not really in the mood for hot dogs.”
I pulled him to a stop. Okay, that was like five places he’d rejected. I pushed down my glasses so I could see him over the lenses, and gave him my best no-nonsense librarian look. “Pick something within a five-foot radius,” I instructed.
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Nathan’s it is.”
We got in the curving line behind a mom and her two kids. She was holding one on her shoulder, and the dark-haired moppet stared at me interestedly, thumb stuck in his mouth. I felt something on my neck and moved quickly. My hair fluttered again, near the nape this time, and I swatted the air distractedly. “I think there are bugs out here.”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
“Thought I felt something.”
“Maybe a bee.”
I narrowed my eyes. “A bee my ass.” I pointed an accusing finger at his nose. “You were smelling me again, weren’t you?”
He’d developed a strange habit of smelling my hair anytime we were together, swearing that I must have a percentage of strawberry in my DNA. I pretended to be annoyed, but continued to wash my hair in strawberry shampoo every chance I got.
Busted, he finally took a full-on sniff of my hair, and nuzzled my temple. “Maybe if you wouldn’t lather down in anything sweet, I wouldn’t have to.” He gestured at the gap between us and the nearest person. “And you’re not keeping the line tight.”
“Stop distracting me,” I said, moving forward.
“You’re so easy to distract.” He grinned. “Besides, what would I do with all my free time?” He took another unsolicited sniff of my hair. “I have no real hobbies.”
I made a mental note to buy more strawberry shampoo. In bulk.
*
Three hours later, we were once again in line for food. Funnel cake this time. I shook my head, disapproving of my own stomach. Not disapproving enough to leave, but still.
“Think they’ll stay for another weekend if we beg?” I asked wistfully, looking at the ticket booth in the distance, already packing up shop.
“I wish.” Jackson shook his head, following my gaze. “I would cancel my plans with no hesitation whatsoever.”
It was a moment before his words really penetrated my post-fair funk. “You have something for work?”
“No, I’m supposed to be meeting Kace to catch up. I’ve been putting her off, but when she gets her mind set on something, you might as well do it.”
His smile invited me to share in the joke, but my mouth felt a little frozen. Kace? As in his ex, Kacey? It wasn’t a big deal. I’d had lunch with my ex, and it didn’t mean anything. Right?
“Well…good.” Suddenly funnel cake construction was the most interesting thing in the world as I frowned at the sizzling cake batter. So Jackson was going out with someone else. Excellent. I’d known that was a possibility. “I hope you have a good time. Maybe you guys should go to another fair.”
He gave me a look that said he knew exactly what was eating away at me. “I don’t think she’s much of the outdoorsy type.”
“Ah.” I gritted my teeth, trying not to give my opinion about someone I’d never met and whose name I barely knew. “Well, maybe dinner then.”
“Maybe.”
The cashier called out my number just in time. Sweet Jesus, this situation needed lard and sugar. I took the crinkly paper with my funnel cake and took a bite of the sugary treat, sighing as I chewed on delicious fried goodness.
“You two need a moment?”
I opened my eyes to find Jackson looking at me with an amused smile. I gave him a raised eyebrow in return. “You’re interrupting my reunion with funnel cake. We haven’t seen one another for years.”
“You guys had a falling out?”
“Difference of opinion. Funnel cake doesn’t like me to wear things with zippers and buttons.”
He chuckled. “Would you and Funnel Cake like to join me on the Ferris wheel?”
I nodded, feeling kind of excited despite myself. It had been a long time since I’d ridden a Ferris wheel. As we approached, the speakers began playing “You Look Wonderful Tonight,” by Eric Clapton, that slow acoustic guitar winding its way through the darkening sky. We clambered into one of the cars and settled in, Jackson holding my funnel cake while I got comfortable. By the time I held out my hand to reclaim my treat, he had sugar on his lips and an innocent expression on his face.
I squinted at him, and grabbed my funnel cake back. “I know what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he protested.
“The evidence is right there on your sugary lips.” I brushed a finger across the plump surface, coming away with a fine dusting of sugar. Which I licked off my finger, to his fascinated gaze.
He leaned over and kissed me, something that was supposed to be quick and easy, but turned into something dark and needy. I worked on trying not to make a sound—I was pretty sure no one could see us that well, but a moan would probably be a dead giveaway. But it was pretty damned hard to stay quiet with Jackson moving his tongue like that. I tilted my head to give him better access to my mouth, and we kissed as the wheel moved around, stopping at intervals to let people get on. When we finally pulled back, I stared at him, trying to identify the tumultuous feelings rioting inside me.
“What is it?” he asked softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Nothing.”
“AJ.”
I looked up into those hazel eyes, so focused on mine.
“You can tell me anything.”
That was kind of part of the problem. “Thinking of you with her…” I fisted my hands by my thighs. “I don’t like to think of you with another woman.” At his look, I held up the hand not occupied with half-eaten funnel cake. “I know that’s crazy, and I’m sorry. But that’s the truth.”
He didn’t speak again until we had made several revolutions, the city spread out below us. When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost as if he was talking to himself. “What the fuck are we doing?”
“Meaning?” For some unknown reason, my own voice was barely a whisper. Maybe because I could tell my chickens had come home to roost. I’d known Jackson wasn’t happy with our arrangement from the beginning, and truthfully? Neither was I.
“You know what I mean.”
Yeah, I kind of did. “‘I don’t know’ probably wouldn’t be a good answer right about now.”
He sighed, pressing a hand to the back of his neck like he always did when he was stressed. “It’s really not.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t what? Lay our cards out on the table?” He exhaled noisily. “I know we started this without promising each other anything, but…I think…I think I’m falling for you.” His eyes caught mine and it was impossible to look away. “And I think that somewhere along the line, you fell for me, too.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, it’s fortunate that I do. I’ll start by being honest. ‘Falling for you’ is a bit of an understatement.” He bit his lip briefly and then forged on. “I love you. And I can wait as long as you need for you to love me back, but I can’t go on pretending we’re nothing more than fuck buddies. I don’t want to date anyone else…I don’t even want it to be legal for you to date anyone else.”
My silence was magnified by the sounds of the carnival around us, and the people who were obviously unaware that the world had actually ended. The squeal of children on rides rang in my ears, along with that Godawful carnival music. I could hear people calling one another back and forth with varying degrees of excitement, punctuated by the occasional scream on a wild ride. Near the shaved ice stand, one very angry clown began screaming vulgarities at anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path. Frankly, he was creative as hell.
Jackson sighed. “Apparently my love has turned you mute.”
I wanted to tell him that I loved him, too. I wanted to give him anything he asked, everything he asked, but as usual, my own issues stood in my way. “Hearing you tell me that you love me is…maybe the single best thing anyone has ever said to me.” My gaze dropped to my hands. “And the scariest.”
“Do you remember that day in the attic? When you asked me when I realized that I wanted you?”
“You said you didn’t remember,” I said numbly.
“I lied.” His eyes were intent on mine. “I remember the exact moment that I realized I wanted you. All of you. In my bed, in my world, in my life.”
“When?” I croaked.
“My parents’ funeral. It was the worst time of my life.” He swallowed, hard, and I instinctively reached out to comfort him. He squeezed my hand once before setting it back on my lap, determined to have his say. “We were in the kitchen, and everyone was being so fucking nice, so goddamned conciliatory. Giving me those sad looks, usually accompanied by that awful, sad head tilt.”
God, I knew exactly what tilt he was talking about. It wasn’t their fault; sometimes people didn’t know what to say when something awful happened.
Jackson’s brow creased angrily. “How’re you doing son? How’re you holding up, champ?” He mocked. He made a frustrated noise. “I was so sick of it all, and I wanted to smash my fist into something. And then you came in and made the worst off-color joke.”
My mouth fell open. Surely, even I knew better than to joke at a funeral. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“You did. In usual AJ fashion.” His mouth lifted. “I don’t remember what it was, but it cracked me up. All day, I’d been feeling this sense of wrong. Like I was at my parents’ house and everything looked the same but nothing was. And it was like suddenly, I had a slice of normal. One space to breathe in a world flipped upside down. And then you wrapped your arms around me.”
“You didn’t want me to hug me back at first,” I reminded him, still a little dazed.
“No, I didn’t. Because right then I wanted it too damn much. But you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
I remembered that moment, too. It was the moment that I realized that I wasn’t alone on my island of misery. That everyone loved and lost, and got lost in the wreckage. It was also the moment I’d realized that I really liked giving Jackson hugs. His chin had dropped, touching the top of my head, and I’d rubbed the back of his neck, not saying anything because there was really nothing to say. No words that would make it better.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I felt like you understood. And then Jules came in and I had to let you comfort him instead, and I think I hated him a little right then. Because I wanted you to myself.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I burst out.
“You were with someone before. I never thought Adam would mess up, but that fucker finally did.”
My mouth opened but not one word came out.
He sighed. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now, but…I have to tell you how I feel. I love being with you. Having you. Touching you. Loving you. But I’m not looking for something casual with you. I want all of you, AJ. And I think you want me, too.”
I do.
I stared blindly at the blurred lights of the tilt-a-whirl as my mind kicked into overdrive, struggling to process his words as different emotions ripped through my body. I was happy, of course, and confused…excited, and maybe down deep…a little afraid. A lot afraid. I wanted to shout for joy that this man, this wonderful, beautiful, caring man had fallen in love with me. But then there was that other part of me. The part that wondered when this would all be over. When he would realize that me and all my issues weren’t worth the trouble.
I bit my lip, thoroughly frustrated with myself. My mother and father had had a thirty-year marriage. They’d been through the worst and come out on the other side. Together. Why couldn’t I focus on that instead of his remarriage? My warped brain saw the new marriage as undoing all the years they’d been together.
How could you look at one woman for thirty years, hold her, hug her, kiss her, build a future with her…and then start over with someone else? Adam and his cheating certainly hadn’t helped. Not to mention the fact that he’d been all too willing to throw his new fiancée over to get back with me. Was nothing sacred anymore?
I knew in that moment that I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Didn’t know if I even could. I didn’t want to punish Jackson for the sins of ex-boyfriends past. I didn’t want to saddle him with all that. It just wouldn’t be fair. Now I had to think of a way to tell the best thing that ever happened to me that I was too damaged to believe in something as simple and basic as love.
His eyes searched my face for a long moment and then sighed. From the sound of that sigh, I didn’t have to. I tried anyway. “I told you from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for something serious.” I hit a tender spot on my lip and let it slide from the clench of my teeth reluctantly. I was biting the poor thing raw. I took a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re just scared,” he said, shaking his head.
“Scared of what?” My voice was sharper than I intended.
“Scared I could be your everything.”
When I lifted my eyes to his, they almost frightened me with the intensity. I couldn’t help but want to protect myself from that kind of heartache. I could never lose again if I never loved. It made no sense to my heart, but unfortunately for me, my brain was in control. And sometimes the brain told the heart to sit the fuck down.
“I meant what I said in the beginning, Jackson.” The words flew out before I could stop them. “This was never anything serious for me.”
The words hung in the air between us, harsh and sharp. When I finally managed to look in his direction…God…the look on his face was just…awful. He looked like I’d hit him in the stomach with a shovel.
I instinctively tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean—”
He held up a hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
The wind whistled around us and I shivered a bit. “Please say something.”
It was a moment before he spoke again. “This has been…very informative. But we shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“We don’t have to call this quits,” I said, my voice a little desperate. My fingers tightened on the crinkly wrapper of my half-eaten funnel cake. “We could go back to the way we were.”
“I don’t think so.” His mouth twisted angrily. “You can find someone else if you need to fuck.”
Reducing what we’d shared to just fucking made my stomach twist. His voice was cold, and it wasn’t the voice of the man who’d held me on the beach. Who’d kissed me in the shower. Who’d taken me to the movies and eaten most of my Snocaps.
Tell him. The voice in my head urged me not to be such a fucking idiot. Tell him how you really feel. “I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say.
“Don’t be.” His voice was cool. “It’s good to know where I stand.”
Right now, I was standing in quicksand with an anvil tied to my ankles. We had both said all the things we needed to say, but I didn’t want it to end. Not like this. Not at all.
I looked at his stony profile. The ride that I usually thought was too short felt like it was never going to end. From the set of Jackson’s jaw, granite hard, he clearly felt the same way. And because we had offended the God of Love—Eros, you fickle bastard—the mechanisms of the wheel suddenly started to fail.
A grinding, whirring noise started that scared the daylights out of me, and our bucket swayed. We jerked up two more feet, so that we were at the very top of the revolution. The very fucking top. We tried to brace ourselves against the side as the ride shuddered to halt. There was a moment of terrified silence before there was a shout.
Ah. The always eloquent, timeless classic of “What the hell?” As if that was a cue, more voices started below and around us as everyone tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Except in our bucket. There was delicious, absolute silence. Obviously Jackson was now more than willing to watch me catapult to my death from a questionably constructed Ferris wheel.
A speaker crackled as the music died. A voice came on a scant second later. “Folks, we’re sorry about this, but it’s going to be a few minutes before we get going again. Everything is fine, so please stay calm. We’ll have you guys out in a jiff.”
Was it possible that a jiff was less than two seconds? Because being the object of Jackson’s stony gaze, seconds were suddenly measured in dog years. The ride lurched again and I fumbled the funnel cake, and it flew over the edge.
I peered over the edge in dismay as it disappeared into the brightly colored lights of the circus below. I sat back in my seat slowly. Fuck. This evening had certainly taught me a few things. When you buy funnel cake, eat the funnel cake. I rubbed my fingertips together, feeling sticky sugar residue there.
And never break up on a Ferris wheel.