“You’re leaving today?”

Truth sat up on the bed and watched as Danny flipped open his suitcase.

“Sorry, babe, but you know I can’t control these things. We were just picked up to do a show in London. It’ll be in front of some pretty big executives. This is too huge to pass up.”

“When were you going to tell me this?”

“I wanted to tell you last night, but you weren’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to make you feel any worse.”

Truth nibbled on her lower lip. It had been her conscious eating away at her that had pained her last night. She may have reluctantly decided to keep Jackson’s secret, but it didn’t stop the guilt from festering inside her.

She didn’t think she could keep it contained any longer.

“Danny, I have something to tell you… But please don’t be mad.”

He glanced back at her then came to sit beside her on the bed. “Is it about the kiss?”

Truth gaped at him. “Jackson told you?”

“Yeah. He did. But it’s okay. I’m not mad. He told me how you pushed him away.” He sounded pleased about that.

Yeah, but only after I kissed him back.

She couldn’t ignore that important detail, which only added to the churning in her belly. Danny had always talked about his older brother as if he were a father figure. But instead of the mature older brother she had expected, she had met with a six-foot plus, muscular built man with alluring dark brown eyes and sensual lips.

Truth shook away the distracting thought. Danny would be leaving soon and she didn’t want him to think there was—or would ever be—anything between her and Jackson.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but—”

Danny took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know Jackson bullied you into secrecy. Don’t worry, I had a strong talk with him about it.”

Truth masked her annoyance and returned his reassuring squeeze. If Jackson had planned to tell him everything, why had he forced her into keeping quiet?

“I’m sorry, Danny.”

He pulled her into his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry about, babe. It’s Jackson who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

She looped her arms around him and leaned into his embrace. “I think I should stay at a motel or something until you get back.”

“Nonsense. I spoke to Jackson last night about you staying here until you pass the NCLEX and he’s cool with it.”

Truth drew back and stared at him, surprised. “He is?”

“Of course, he is. I told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yeah, but that was before I met him.” And before she discovered how dangerously appealing his older brother was.

Danny pressed a quick kiss on the bridge of her nose. “My brother may be a lot of things, but deep down he’s a good guy and I trust him. Give it some time. You’ll get to see what kind of man he really is.”

Truth nodded and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. She was open minded enough to put their awkward encounter behind her and start off with a clean slate.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

After Danny’s departure, Truth had seen very little of Jackson. The rare times they happened to be in the same room, he was cordial enough, but any exchange was always brief. He was gone for long hours and only seem to come around long enough to feed and play with Little Monster.

She didn’t know what kept him away for such long hours, but it was probably better this way. Things between them had been strained when Danny had been here. She didn’t imagine it would get any better while they were alone.

So she focused on her studies and spent hours prepping for her nursing exam. To fill in the time, she also secured a part-time position at the local hospital. She did as much as she could to keep busy, which left her little room to miss Danny and even less time to fixate on Jackson’s whereabouts.

But it took only one dinner to break her steady focus.

“Here you go, sweetie.”

Truth placed the bowl of dog food down in front of Little Monster, but the puppy dashed out of the kitchen, barking excitedly. Truth started to call after her until she heard the front door come open.

“There’s my Little Monster.”

Truth ignored the flutter in her belly as Jackson’s affectionate teasing and light chuckle reached her. He was home earlier than usual, but she wouldn’t let that change her routine. She went to the stove, plated her dinner then sat down at the small table.

“I missed you too, girl.”

Truth concentrated on her meal, only looking up when Jackson eventually walked into the small kitchen with Little Monster propped in his arms. She offered him a greeting, and he grunted in response. He went down on his haunches and placed Little Monster down in front of her food bowl. The pup attacked it with enthusiasm as Jackson continued to run his palm along her back.

Truth followed every line of his biceps and shoulders that flexed as a result of the small action. She had never met a man his size move so fluidly and with such arrogant confidence. He carried his bulk with ease, and still managed to handle a small thing like Little Monster with tenderness.

She didn’t know what to make of Jackson Matoa, but one thing was certain. He fascinated her.

When he glanced over at her, Truth quickly dropped her gaze back to her plate. Her hand tightened around her fork as she feigned calm indifference. Yet inside her chest, her heart was racing, and she didn’t know why.

“There’s some more chicken curry on the stove, if you’re hungry,” she offered, wanting to fill in the awkward silence.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to cook for me.”

Truth suppressed an eye-roll and an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t cook for you. I just made enough for two, and I’m offering you some. But you don’t have to have any, if you don’t want.”

Ignoring her last words, Jackson rose to his full height and went to the stove. He lifted the lid from the pot and dipped the serving spoon inside.

With some annoyance, she watched as he scooped out a healthy portion and brought the spoon to his mouth. He stuck the spoon back into the pot and scooped up another large helping.

“Not bad,” he said around a mouth full of food.

“I’m glad you like it. Why don’t you grab a plate and come sit with me?”

His hand stilled above the pot before he laid the serving spoon down and went to the cabinet. As he pulled out a plate, Truth returned her attention to her own. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

Looks like some old dogs can learn new tricks.

When he finally sat down at the table, Truth was surprised to see how high his plate was piled. But within minutes, he had it down to half. She watched with amazement at how quick the food began to disappear—and how much of a mess he was making.

One trick at a time, she reminded herself.

“How was your day?” Truth asked, trying to ignore the spectacle before her.

“Long.” He didn’t even bother looking up from his plate when he responded.

“Were you at work all day?”

Jackson grunted.

She continued to stare down at his bent head, waiting for him to say more. When he didn’t she asked, “What do you do for work?”

“I build things.”

“Like houses?”

“Something like that.”

She assumed it was houses because she had seen the unfinished doghouse in the backyard and had wondered about it.

“So you built that doghouse in the back?”

He grunted, and Truth held on to her annoyance at his mute response.

“Well, you did a nice job. Who’s it for?”

He jerked his head toward Little Monster, who was still voraciously nibbling at her dog chow. Truth cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“Don’t you think it’s a little big for her?”

“No.”

Truth stared at him and clenched her teeth in frustration. He couldn’t be anymore monotonous. Since it was clear he didn’t want to talk about himself or his work, she attempted a more neutral topic.

“I spoke with Danny today.”

“Yeah? How is he?”

“Excited about his next show. After that, he says he might be able to come and spend a few days with us.”

“Cool.”

Suddenly Jackson rose from the table and carried his plate to the sink. Truth followed him up, taken aback by yet another cold response. She would have thought the news would elicit a bit more enthusiasm.

She came up beside him and studied his profile as he turned on the faucet and grabbed for the sponge.

“Jackson, are you all right?”

“Yeah, why?” He lathered and scrubbed his plate, not sparing her a glance.

“Because I’ve been here for over two weeks and you’ve said maybe five words to me.”

He froze then jerked the faucet shut. When he turned to face her, his expression was unreadable. “I think under the circumstances its best we give each other some space.”

“What circumstances?” She studied him searchingly. “Are you talking about that kiss that never happened? I thought you forgot all about it?”

His stance grew rigid and something intense flared in his dark eyes. “I’m trying.”

Those low words caused the hairs on her arms to rise. And it certainly wasn’t out of fear. Afraid he would read the veiled excitement in her eyes, she let her gaze drop to his chest.

“Well, I hope we can get pass this. Danny knows about it and I’m glad he does. You forced me to keep your secret and—”

“Wait a minute. It wasn’t my secret.”

She gaped up at him. “Are you serious? I only kept quiet about it because of you. Then you go and tell Danny anyway. I don’t understand why you did, but I’m glad.”

Jackson sighed in resignation and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “You’re right. I should have never put you in that position. Hell, I should have never touched you. But don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

“I’m not worried,” she said quietly. “I’d just like it if we could put it all behind us and at least be friends.”

He stared down at her for a moment, his dark eyes ablaze with frustration and something else.

“Fine, if that’s what you want…”

He turned away from her and swiftly left the kitchen. Truth stared after him, feeling more alone and confused than she had before.

* * *

“Say what you want, Jackson. I’m still coming home.”

Jackson frowned down at his cell phone. He was in his shed, in the middle of an important project, but he couldn’t resist trying to drill some sense into his little brother.

“Haven’t you been paying attention to the news? There’s a hurricane headed our way in a matter of days.”

“I know,” Danny said, his stubbornness coming through loud and clear over the phone speakers. “That’s why I plan to fly into Charlotte this weekend and drive the rest of the way up there.”

“Why would you do something so stupid?”

“What do you mean? I think it’s a great idea.”

“It’s reckless,” Jackson said evenly. “What if the storm hits us hard? Are you really willing to risk your neck driving four hours through post-hurricane debris?”

“To spend a few nights with my wife? Yes. Yes, I am.”

Jackson glared down at the phone. “I’m serious, Danny. Now be smart about this. Find yourself a charter plane and book a direct flight here after the storm passes.”

“Hmm, that’ll be expensive. Not to mention I’d be getting in next week and much later then I wanted.”

“You’ve waited this long,” Jackson muttered. “Your skinny ass can wait another week.”

Danny groaned. “But I miss my wife, Jackson. I mean, I really miss her.”

“Yeah, I get it.” The words burst out through clenched teeth and Jackson forced his jaw to relax. “But your precious wife will be waiting right here for you when you get back, so relax.”

“Yeah, I know she will,” Danny said smugly.

Jackson rolled his eyes, though if he had a woman like Truth he would be smug about it too.

“So, are you guys prepared for the storm?” Danny asked. “Do you have enough water, food, and batteries?”

“Getting there. I need to get more plywood for the windows, but I’m trying to finish up this project for the Bensons tonight.”

Jackson ran his palm over the mission-style executive desk he had constructed. This was his first big desk project, and he was glad he had gone with the cherry finish.

“How’s your other, more important, project coming along?”

Jackson sighed. “If you’re talking about the contractor’s license, that’s going to have to wait until after my paid projects are done. Besides, I can still do my woodwork without some useless license.”

“Yeah, but you’re too good at what you do not to turn this into a legit business for yourself. People will pay good money for custom furniture. With a business name and license behind you, you won’t have to shortchange yourself.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Oh yeah? How much did you charge the Bensons for that custom cherry wood desk you’re building?”

Jackson glared down at the phone again. “None of your damn business. Besides, the desk’s a gift for Eric, so I gave them a break on the price.”

“That’s my point. The Bensons are loaded and could have hired anyone in the country to build that desk, but they chose you. Because you’re good at this stuff and they know it. I just want people to take you and your craft seriously.”

Jackson lost his glare and stared around his workstation. It was nothing more than an oversized backyard shed with all his woodworking tools, but it was here he had turned his longtime hobby into a source of income. He had never imagined making it into a full-time business. But with Danny’s constant urging to go further with his craft, he was beginning to believe maybe he could turn this into something bigger.

“All right,” Jackson said. “If you really think there’s money to be made with this stuff, I’ll look into that license.”

Danny blew out a loud, long breath. “You damn well better.”

* * *

It was official.

Hurricane Alma would be making landfall late tonight.

Truth had been monitoring the news reports for the last several days, hoping there would be a shift and the dangerous storm would shimmy back into the Atlantic. Unfortunately, all it had done was gain strength and was now a category four storm.

When Jackson pulled up to the driveway, Truth went outside to meet him. In the back of his truck bed were long pieces of flat board, several bags of tarp, and a large case of bottled water. For someone who had appeared blasé about the impending storm, he was certainly coming prepared.

“I thought you said a few boards on the windows would be enough,” Truth said as he hopped out of his truck and went around to the back.

“That was before it became a category four hurricane.”

He lifted the stack of boards with a low grunt and started toward the house. Everything was suddenly becoming all too real and she stood there frozen, watching as he deposited the boards on the porch then returned to the truck.

Stories of past hurricane disasters filled her mind and the hairs raised on her arms. In all her twenty-five years, she had never experienced a hurricane, not even in her Caribbean island home of Barbados. Yet, now she would be forced to live through one thousands of miles away from home—and with her husband thousands of miles away from her.

Truth shook her head and focused her thoughts on right now.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope,” he said. “I got it.”

She frowned at his easy dismissal then decided to ignore him. She went to the truck and began unloading the items that were manageable for her to carry.

When they got the truck empty, Jackson began shuttering the windows and storm-proofing the roof. Truth went inside the house and began filling buckets with water and coolers with ice. She gathered all their food and emergency supplies on the kitchen counter then collected provisions for Little Monster.

Within hours, they had the house secured and was ready to hunker down in wait. Outside, heavy gusts of rain sporadically slammed against the house, letting them know that the storm wasn’t too far away. Little Monster whimpered at her heel and followed her into every room.

Truth understood the puppy’s anxiety as the winds began to wail outside. Even as the pup followed her into the bathroom, Truth didn’t have the heart to chase her out. Little Monster cowered beside the tub as Truth took a quick shower. When the lights began to flicker, the puppy’s whimpering grew louder.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she assured her, just as eager to get out of the tub. “It was just a little hiccup.”

She turned off the shower, and Little Monster’s whimpers only seemed to get louder. With a sigh, Truth pulled back the curtain and found Little Monster huddled by the door.

“It’s okay, honey. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Just as Truth reached for her towel, the bathroom door swung open. She let out a startled shriek and nearly dropped the thick cloth.

“Jackson.” Truth scrambled to cover herself, but her hands where trembling too much to get the terrycloth wrapped around her. “Can’t you knock?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Yet instead of shutting the door, he simply stood there, his eyes transfixed on her barely wrapped body. “I heard Little Monster crying in here and thought she was trapped.”

Truth clutched the towel closer to her, her knees locked tightly together as a strange warmth began to unfurl in her belly. “Well, as you can see, she’s not. So please leave.”

He blinked then tore his gaze away from her. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.” He bent down and scooped the puppy into his arms. “Come on, girl.”

Little Monster’s whimpers stopped as she licked his face. Jackson pulled the door shut behind them.

Mortified, Truth leaned back against the wall of the tub and shut her eyes.

Oh. My. God.

She couldn’t believe what had just happened and could only pray he hadn’t seen too much.