They were lucky.

By the time Hurricane Alma made it inland, she had been downgraded to a tropical storm and fortunately the damages hadn’t been too extensive. Aside from several fallen trees and torn roof shingles, the damage and clean-up around his home was manageable.

He could was certain he could have gotten a bulk of the clean-up done on his own, but Truth was insistent on helping him. He was concerned about her foot. She wanted to help out.

In the end, he grumbled and she ignored him. But despite his protests, they managed to work together and get a lot done.

“Damn it, you little monster!”

At Truth’s sudden shriek, Jackson rushed back to house. He found Truth standing there, thick socks covering her injured foot, as she held up the remnants of her brand name high-top sneakers. He grimaced at the sight of them. Just recently she was telling him how much they were her favorites.

“Where is she?” Truth demanded. “I need to give her a serious tongue lashing.”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure she’s sorry about it,” Jackson said. “She’s a biter, but she’s never destroyed shoes before. Maybe there’s something about your—”

Truth reached down and lifted up a tattered boot. Jackson instantly recognized his work boot and his words trailed off.

“Damn,” Jackson muttered. “Those were new.”

Truth came down the porch and tossed the ruined shoes in one of the large trash piles they had been assembling.

“You should really start to get her trained or she’s just going to chew you right into the poorhouse when she gets older.”

“Good thing I’m already poor, huh?”

She glared at him. “I’m serious. She’s a little menace now, but it will only get much worse if you continue to let her go unchecked.”

Jackson sighed. “I know, and I’m working on it. She’ll be the best behaved dog in Cedar Bend before you know. In the meantime, remind me to get you a new pair of sneaks.”

She stared down at her socked foot and blew out a long breath. “Don’t worry about it. I probably shouldn’t be wearing sneakers now anyway.”

Jackson followed her gaze. “How’s the foot today?”

“A lot better.”

“Good. Can you grab some of these bags and moved them with the others?”

She beamed up at him and he couldn’t help but return her contagious smile. It was that enchanting.

“What are we smiling about?” he asked.

“Just yesterday you didn’t want any of my help. Now today, I didn’t even have to ask.”

His smile widened, despite himself. “Don’t get carried away. It’s just a few bags of yard waste. I could have handled it.”

“Yet, you still asked me. That’s progress, my friend.” Truth began tying one of the bags closed. She tugged at it to secure the knot. “If you’re not careful, you might start to like it.”

“Like what?”

“Having me around.” With a sly grin, she began dragging the bag behind her.

Jackson watched her until she disappeared around the side of the house. Her words put thoughts in his head that had no business being there. If she only knew just how much he already liked having her around, she wouldn’t joke like that.

He had to remember that Danny would be home soon, and his brother’s presence would be the cold, hard reality check he needed to get his libido in check.

Jackson grabbed the end of his stained undershirt and wiped the sweat from his face and went back to work. He continued his task of cutting the fallen tree limbs into manageable pieces while Truth collected the rest of the lawn bags and gathered them into neat piles in front of the house. Later, he removed all the boards from the windows and Truth opened them to let in some fresh air into the house.

They continued working well into the afternoon, until the yard was cleared. Truth grabbed two bottles of water from the cooler and handed him one. They stood outside on the porch, both sweaty and exhausted, and surveyed their handiwork on the lawn.

“Now that is what I call team work.”

Truth raised her fist out to him. Jackson’s lips quirked, and he bumped it with his. She grinned, her light brown skin flushed to a soft pear wood. Her hair was pulled into a messy pony tail, and the sweat on her neck plastered a few loose stands to her skin. He couldn’t remember seeing a sexier woman.

She settled down on the porch steps, taking in the late afternoon breeze. Jackson followed her down and tilted the bottle of water to his lip to cool his heated thoughts.

Little Monster squeezed in between them then rolled on her back for a belly rub. Truth laughed and obliged her.

“Oh, sweetie, I can never stay mad at you,” she murmured, grinning down at the puppy. “You should really settle on a name for her so she doesn’t develop identity issues.”

Jackson cocked a brow. “Is that really a thing?”

“Sure it is.”

He wasn’t convinced, but shrugged. “Well, what do you have in mind?”

She glanced up at him in surprise. “For a name? I don’t know… But it should be something sweet. Like Honey or Cookie.”

“She’s not a dessert.”

“She could be. Just look at that face.”

Truth cooed down at Little Monster who was enjoying every minute of the attention. Jackson watched the two of them and couldn’t help but smile. Both of them had wandered into his life and somehow burrowed their way into his heart.

Except, one of them he couldn’t keep.

“So what else is on the agenda today?” Truth asked.

“I still need to check the roof for any leaks,” he said. “But that can wait until later.”

“If you give me a few minutes to rest my arms, I can go up there with you.”

From the adamant look on her flushed face, she was obviously serious.

“I don’t think so, Wonder Woman. I’m not going to have Danny wring my neck because you decided to break yours trying to do men’s work.”

She narrowed her eyes at him just as he knew she would, and he bit back a smile. He didn’t know why, but he found it sexy when she looked as if she wanted to claw his eyes out.

“You know what, Jackson Matoa?”

He grunted as he took another long swallow of the cold water.

“You’re a hotdog.”

Jackson nearly choked as laughter burst out of him. “Do I even want to know what the hell that even means?”

She laughed too. “It means one of a kind.”

He cocked a brow. “You, Truth Richards, are one pretty little liar.”

“Fine, you want me to call you an American pig, I’ll call you an American pig.”

He gaped at her. He was so stunned, and a little impressed by the insult, that he burst out laughing again. “Are you Bajan babe’s always so feisty?”

He waggled his brows and she rolled her eyes, though he didn’t mistake the smile she tried to suppress. Before she could follow-up with a comeback, her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket and brought it to her ear.

“Hello.” There was a brief pause before she answered again. “Yes, speaking…”

Her brows tugged together in confusion as she turned and stared ahead. “Excuse me, but what is this regarding?”

Suddenly, she whipped back around to face him. He had never seen anyone’s face lose color so fast. Jackson came instantly alert.

“Truth? What’s wrong?”

But she didn’t answer him. She simply shook her head, her eyes glazed as she continued to stare at him blankly. Her odd behavior freaked him the fuck out.

“Give me the phone,” he demanded. Instead, it slipped out of her hand and he caught it before it fell. He realized the caller was still on the line and brought the phone to his ear. “Who the hell is this?”

There was a short pause before a woman spoke. “My name’s Tracy Mills. I’m with the National Transportation Safety Board. May I please speak with Mrs. Richards?”

“I’m her brother-in-law,” Jackson barked. “You can speak to me.”

“Oh.”

The woman paused again for a moment and Jackson’s heart thudded in his chest. Deep down in his core, he knew what he was about to hear next.

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s been a terrible accident.”

* * *

Truth sat on the couch, unable to stop rocking.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there in the dark, waiting for Jackson. It seemed as if time had frozen, yet the reality was that it was going by faster than ever.

Two weeks had passed since the news of the charter plane crash that had claimed the lives of nine people, including her husband’s. It hadn’t seemed real then and it didn’t seem real now.

At twenty-five, she was already a widow.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed buy a home, have children, and grow old with her husband. But she would never have that with Danny.

I didn’t even get to tell you I passed my test.

That sudden thought echoed in her head, and fresh tears sprang in her eyes. The devastating reality of Danny’s loss flooded her again, almost doubling her over. But Truth quickly blinked the tears away. Tonight, she didn’t have time for tears.

She needed to be clear headed when she told Jackson what a horrible brother he was.

My brother may be a lot of things, but deep down he’s a good guy…

Danny’s words echoed in her head, yet they only fueled her rage. Jackson was nothing but a selfish, insensitive bastard.

The news of losing Danny had been unexpected and traumatic for both of them, but she had never expected Jackson to leave her to deal with it all alone. With each day that passed, he stayed out longer, and she saw less and less of him.

Today, however, was the tipping point and she planned to wait up for him as long as it took for her to give him a piece of her mind.

When headlights flashed across the window, Truth jumped up from the sofa. She pulled back the curtain and was surprised to see a tow truck pulling up. A tall, dark man got out of the truck and went around the passenger side where Jackson sat, slouched.

The man helped Jackson out then half carried and half dragged him toward the house. Truth pulled open the front door and waited. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. She simply stepped aside while the man brought Jackson inside.

“Where can I put him?”

“The couch.”

Truth regretted her sharp tone. She had to remind herself that people still expected her to be civil, even if she was angry and disappointed and extremely sad.

The man stopped in front of the couch and dropped Jackson down. He sat slouched, his head drooped forward, and Truth turned away in disgust.

“How much do we owe you, Mr…?”

“Call me Damian,” the man said. “And there’s no charge. I just wanted to make sure he got home all right.”

Truth nodded stiffly. “Thank you for that, Damian.”

“No problem.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out a set of keys. “You may want to hold on to these. I’ll unhook his truck and—”

“Actually, why don’t you hold on to them,” she said. “When he sobers up, he can come get them from you.”

Damian hesitated for a moment then stuffed the keys back in his pocket. “Okay. He knows where to find me.”

He started toward the door and Truth followed. Just before she could lockup after him, he paused and turned back to her.

“You’re Danny’s wife, right?”

A lump formed in her throat at the sound of his name, but she managed a quick nod.

“I just wanted to say that was a nice memorial you had for him today.”

“Thank you.”

It was barely a whisper, but it was all she could do not to weep right then and there. She didn’t know him, couldn’t even remember meeting him at the service, but he had showed up for Danny. Just like countless others had to come pay their respects.

Everyone except Jackson.

Locking the door behind Damian, Truth leaned against it. She let the tears flow down her face, unable to hold back her despair. Jackson had been the one face she had looked for in the crowd of strange faces today. He was the one person she had wanted to latch on to because he was the one person who knew exactly how painful Danny’s loss was.

But he hadn’t showed up today and she had been forced to deal with it alone.

Truth pushed away from the door and started to her room. She made it a few steps before she stopped. She couldn’t go to bed with all this hurt and anger bottled inside her. She marched back into the living room and stood over Jackson. He hadn’t move from his slumped position.

“Jackson, wake up.” When he didn’t budge, she kicked his leg. “Jackson!”

He groaned and jerked his head up. “Wha… Truth?”

His rheumy eyes were glazed over, but she couldn’t be sure it was from tears or too much alcohol. She figured the latter. She hadn’t seen him cry since the news of the accident that took Danny from them.

“Jackson, we need to talk.”

“What time is it?” His slightly slurred words came out low and he placed a hand over his face.

“It’s late. Very late. If it wasn’t for your friend Damian, you would have probably spent the night at the same place you have for the past few days.”

“Would you lower you voice?” he growled. “My head is fucking pounding.”

“I don’t care. A headache is the least you deserve after what you did. Was getting drunk more important than coming to Danny’s service today?”

Her words must have sobered him a bit because he removed his hand from his face and fixed her with a cold glare. “If you want to cry over an empty grave, go right ahead. Just leave me the fuck out of it, all right?”

Her hands balled into fists at her sides, and she held on to her rising temper and anguish. Not being able to recover Danny’s body after the crash had been yet another blow. But it didn’t stop her from buying a plot so they could have a place to mourn him and lay his spirit to rest.

“Today was very important, Jackson,” Truth said thickly. “It was for Danny and you of all people should have been there.”

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes before he turned away from her. “Are you finished? Because I’m done listening to your crap.”

He struggled to his feet and the last thread of her patience snapped. She shoved him back down on the couch. His intoxicated state made it easy, and he fell back into the seat.

“No, you’re going to listen to what I have to say.” Truth studied him, trying to get a glimmer of his feelings, but couldn’t see past the wall he put up. “What’s the matter with you? What kind of brother are you? Danny loved you so much and you…” She scoffed and shook her head in disgust. “The least you can do is pretend to give a damn about him.”

Without warning, Jackson seized her robe and jerked her forward. She tried to jerk back but before she knew what was happening, he had her pinned down on the couch. He leaned over her, his broad face so close she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? You just got here. You don’t know shit about me or how I felt about my brother. No one cared about him more than me. No one. Not you and certainly not anyone in this town.” He came down closer, his dark eyes flinty. “That goddamn funeral was your idea, but I don’t need anyone’s pity. I don’t need their condolences or their fucking pats on the back. What I need is my brother back.”

His voice cracked at those last words. With an anguished cry, he dropped his head on her chest. She lay there frozen, jolted by the harsh, wounded sounds coming from him. The sudden outburst of emotion was startling, and filled with grief, she was certain this was the first time he was letting himself succumb to the pain.

“Oh, Jackson,” she murmured, her voice thick with her own tears. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss on his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

She had underestimated his suffering, expecting him to display his pain for all to see. But that wasn’t him and she should have recognized that.

Truth continued to rub his back gently, until the storm of emotion passed. He remained still above her, his face buried in the crook of her neck. For a moment, she wondered if he had fallen asleep.

That thought instantly flittered away when he pressed his lips lightly against her throat, his facial hair tickling her skin. Her breath caught at the gentle caress and her fingers clutched at his shirt.

He continued moving his lips along her neck before he lifted his head and stared down at her. His dark eyes were a luminous pool need and despair, and their gazes remained locked for some time. She tried to discern the thoughts he kept buried behind those guarded eyes, but all she could see was immense sadness.

Without thinking, Truth brought her fingers to cheek and brushed away the dampness there. He shut his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

“You should have been mine.”

Those words were spoken so low, she wondered if she had imagined them. Yet, before she could process it, he brought his lips down to hers and she stilled.

The moment his lips touched hers, everything around them ceased to exist. His lips moved over hers gently at first, almost hesitantly, until the spark of passion that simmered between them ignited. He kissed her deeply and thoroughly, and she returned his fervor with a burst of her own.

The inferno between them was just as she remembered that first day in his kitchen, but this time she didn’t push him away. She couldn’t.

God help her, she didn’t want to.

Suddenly, Jackson jerked his head back and she was left bereft from the lost contact. Their breaths came out fast and shallow, and she realized she was still clutching at his shirt yet couldn’t seem to loosen her death grip on him. She needed him in that moment…needed him more than ever.

But it wasn’t up to her.

He pulled away from her and sat back on the couch. “What the hell am I doing? This isn’t right.”

Truth followed him up. With trembling fingers, she tucked the loose strands of her tousled hair behind her ears. There was a lingering taste of his tangy sweet liquor on her lips, and that served as a cold dash of reality as to what had just happened between them and what it all meant.

“Jackson, that…didn’t mean anything. You’re drunk and we’re both…upset.”

He swung sharp, angry eyes toward her—eyes that didn’t seem all that impaired. “You can save the excuses, Truth. I’m not that drunk, and we both know that meant something. But as much as I want to fuck you right now, I can’t do that to Danny. He…” Jackson stared down at his hands, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “He really loved you.”

She swallowed. “Jackson—”

Suddenly, he bounded to his feet with a harsh curse. “He had no business on that fucking plane. And you… You should have never—”

Jackson cut off his words and Truth tensed at the unfinished accusation. She knew what he was going to say, but wanted to hear it from him.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

Without sparing her another glance, he headed toward the door. Truth flinched as it slammed behind him.

You should have never asked Danny to come home.

Her heart weighed heavily at that unspoken truth. If she hadn’t pushed Danny to come home early, he would have never gotten on that charter plane. He would be getting ready for his next tour, doing what he loved and chasing his dreams. But because of her selfishness, her husband would never come back to her.

Truth didn’t move from where she sat for a long time, trying not to let her grief consume her. It was nearly dawn when she came to another heartbroken realization.

Jackson was the only connection she had to Danny, the only family she had here in this small town…

And he hated her.