She came back.

Jackson’s gaze followed Truth around the bedroom as she picked up the scattered clothes and empty food cartons. She hadn’t changed much in the past year she’d been away. She was still as beautiful as he remembered.

Then again, there was nothing to remember because he had never stopped thinking about her. It had been hard not to think about her while she had been hundreds of miles away, he didn’t know how he was supposed to suppress his feelings for her while she was under the same roof with him again.

“I’m sorry about the mail earlier,” she said, placing the stack of letters on a neat pile on his nightstand. “But I had to prove my point and you left me no choice.”

He grunted. “Yeah, that was a shitty thing to do.”

Guilt flashed across her face, and he instantly regretted his harsh tone. If it hadn’t been for the pain medicine making him loopy, he would have pushed back more on her decision to stay and play nurse-maid to him.

Though, the more he tried to do on his own, the more pain he brought on himself. From the constant growing pain in his leg, he knew he was overextending himself too soon and as his pain grew, so did his need for pain killers. And he didn’t want to depend on another substance to dull his pain.

Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he allowed Truth to help him out a bit. Though, it didn’t look like he had much of a choice.

“Won’t your job miss you if you stay away too long?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m technically unemployed.”

He frowned. Was that why she was really back? She had no place else to go? Or had she…

“Don’t tell me you quit your job to come back here.”

She looked over at him in surprise then. “No, of course not. I signed on with a travel nursing agency and was working at a hospital in Connecticut for three months. My contract ended there, and I could have picked up another assignment, but I decided to come here instead.”

Jackson relaxed a bit. As much as he’d dreamed about this moment when she’d be back, he didn’t want to ever be the cause of her putting her career—or anything else, for that matter—on hold.

“When are you heading back?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I think I had enough of the north for a while.”

“Where were you before Connecticut?”

“Chicago and then New York. I thought I would enjoy the city life, but that didn’t happen. Add in the frigid winters and coming back here was a no brainer.”

He studied her. So she was here to stay. He didn’t know for how long, but he was relieved to know he hadn’t completely scared her off.

You should have mine.

He groaned internally at his stupidity for confessing those words not once but twice. The first being last year when he’d gotten drunk and done things he hadn’t. The second, had been just a few days when he’d been high on pain killers. In his stupor, he’d been trapped in a deep dream with her in bed with him. She’d been looking at him with those beautiful, soft dark eyes of hers and all he could think about was how much he wanted to be inside her.

Eventually, he’d awaken to find his phone in his hands and his last call had been to her. It wasn’t until he’d heard her voice messages that he realized it had been more than a dream.

Those were the words he remembered speaking had spoken to her. When he’d awaken, he’d found his phone his hands and the last call had been to her. He knew what his message had probably consisted of and not only did he regret the words, he was embarrassed by them.

She’s not yours.

He needed to remember that. No matter how badly he wanted it otherwise.

Truth went to his closet to tuck away his scattered tennis shoes and boots that had been spewed around the room before the accident. He started to tell her that he preferred it if they were lined up outside his closet but was distracted by the view of her figure from behind.

Despite her petite frame, she had a curvy frame that was evident from her tank top and fitted jeans. He could make out the outline of her lush thighs, and he let his gaze wander down the length of her. In one swoop, his imagination began to conjure up other thoughts, like how her shapely legs would look wrapped around his—

Jackson instantly tore his gaze away from her.

“Did you have lunch already?”

“No, but I’m not really hungry.”

“You should still eat something anyway, Jackson.” She turned away from the closet and started toward the door. “I’ll go fix you something fast.”

“Truth…”

But she was out of the room before he could protest further.

Jackson sighed and propped himself up higher against the headboard. He reached for the stack of letters on his nightstand and began sorting them, many of which were overdue bills. He sighed and tried not to let the stress of it all discourage him from his plans.

Suddenly Daisy burst into the room and climbed into the bed beside him. Jackson grimaced as the mattress took a sharp dip and the springs groaned loudly under her weight.

“Sooner or later, this bed won’t be able to support both our weights.”

Daisy grumbled low in her throat in response before settling into her spot and resting her head on her paws. Jackson rubbed behind her ears.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He sifted through each envelope, until he had pulled out the most important three. Setting aside the rest, he tore open the first letter. He skimmed through it, but he didn’t need to get far to know this would be yet another let down.

He threw the letter aside and ripped opened the next one. It started the same way.

Dear Jackson Matoa: Thank you for your recent loan application for your small business, but we regret to inform you…

In frustration, he crumbled the letter in his fist and threw it across the room. Daisy’s ears perked up, but she didn’t lift her head. That made it his forth rejection. Hopes of getting his woodworking business up and running was quickly fading away and he had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who had drowned his grief at the bottom of a bottle for a year and had completely abandoned his original plans to start his business.

Jackson looked down at the last envelope on his lap and, without hesitation, ripped it in half. Just more depressing news, he was sure. Just as he was about to toss the pieces across the room, Truth came back carrying a tray topped with a large bowl, a glass of water, a half sleeve of crackers, and a sliced peach.

When had he gotten peaches?

“I hope you don’t have a big appetite,” Truth said as she carried the tray over to him. “You didn’t have a lot for me to choose from.”

Jackson stared at the tray, his mouth watering. “I’m not really hungry,” he lied.

She placed the tray on the bed beside him and he immediately reached for the steaming bowl of chucky beef stew. He ignored the heat burning his fingertips through the porcelain and brought the bowl to his lips. His tongue suffered a few blisters, but his stomach was elated. He managed to get down half the bowl before he reached for the pack of crackers and wolfed down a handful of them.

When he glanced up, he found Truth staring at him, her eyes wide with amazement. Jackson wiped a hand across his mouth and rested the bowl down on the tray.

“Okay, maybe I was a little hungry.”

“I can see that. When was the last time you ate?”

He shrugged. “Yesterday, I think.”

She frowned disapprovingly. “I really wished you had called me sooner, Jackson. How long have you been managing on your own like this?”

“I was released from the hospital a few weeks ago.”

He didn’t mention it was his lack of health insurance that had forced him home sooner. The hospital had tried to arrange a patient care assistant to come every other day to help him around, but that was just another bill he could afford to do without.

Truth sat on the edge of the bed and Daisy immediately shifted to rest her head on her lap. Truth sat tense for a moment before she gingerly began to run a hand down Daisy’s back. A warmth he couldn’t explain spread through him as Jackson watched the two most important ladies in his life develop their own special bond.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened to your leg?”

Jackson returned his attention to his food, specifically the sliced peaches. “I told you I was hit by a car.”

“I know, but where did this happen? And how?”

He swallowed the last bite of his peach and leaned against the headboard with a sigh of contentment before he told her everything.

“I had just left a bar and was walking along Route 85. It was night and pretty dark, from what I remember. I must have been walking too far out on the road, because next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital in a shit ton of pain.”

Truth’s hand stilled above Daisy and her dark eyes eclipsed her slender face. “Oh my god, Jackson. You really could have been killed.”

Suddenly, her eyes became glassy and her gaze took on a faraway look. Jackson knew she was thinking about Danny and his untimely death. He knew she was because his brother was never far from his mind. And after the accident, Jackson had his cast and the occasional pain to serve as a reminder of how short and unpredictable life was.

“Well, I wasn’t as you can see,” he said bluntly. “I just ended up with a broken leg, and once this cast is off, things will finally return back to normal.”

Then she would be gone.

As much as he knew it was for the best, he resented the idea. Jackson shook his head at himself and forced some common sense back into his head. She had only been back for a few hours and already he was getting too attached.

“When will the cast be removed?”

“Next week.”

“The man who ran into you, was he arrested?”

Jackson slowly shook his head, deciding not to correct her. It wasn’t important who had hit him. The deed had been done and he was grateful for it.

“No, there was no point to it. The driver wasn’t intoxicated. I was. And in my condition, I had no business walking out there in the dark.”

She chewed her lip for a moment, staring at him with concern. “About the drinking…you haven’t had any since you left the hospital, have you? Because the mixing it with the medication—”

“I know, Truth. You don’t have to give me a lecture on the dangers of drugs and alcohol. I haven’t had a drink since that night and I plan to keep it that way. I wasted a year letting myself get shitfaced. I won’t let myself go back to that.”

The corner of her brows turned down and he couldn’t stand the pity he saw in them. He hadn’t meant to say all of that, but a part of him needed her to understand that he was much stronger than he had been a year ago.

“Jackson, I know how hard this year must have been for you. It’s been hard on me too.”

The muscles around his neck and shoulders tensed at the direction the words were taking. The last thing he wanted was to compare notes of their grief, or discuss how they had been coping with Danny’s death.

“If you ever want to talk—”

“Actually, I’m getting a bit worn out,” he interrupted. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

An awkward silence lingered between them until she finally rose from the bed and picked up the food tray.

“Sure,” she murmured. “Get some rest. Just call out if you need anything.”

Jackson shut his eyes and didn’t open them until he heard the silent click of the door pulling close. He hated the dejection he heard in her voice, but he couldn’t do anything about it. She wanted him to share feelings he struggled every day to keep buried.

If that was her intention, it was going to be a long, miserable week. The best thing for him to do would be to avoid her.

Yet, how could he when he didn’t think he could take her leaving him again.

* * *

Truth sat down on the edge of the bed and glanced around Danny’s old room.

It was just as she remembered it. He had joked that the room was hers to do what she liked, but she had left it exactly how he kept it. She understood why Danny had made the offer. He had wanted her to feel at home here, while he was off traveling the world with his band.

But she should have been with her husband.

Unfortunately, her circumstances hadn’t allowed for it and she had been left here to live with the most infuriating man she had ever met.

Now, one year later, Jackson was more a pain than she remembered.

Well, what did you expect?

The way they had left things last time had not been pleasant for either of them. Without notice, or even a goodbye, she had accepted a position with a travel nurse agency and had been on the first flight out. She was certain he hadn’t even noticed she was gone until months later.

Now, she was back, forcing her way into his life.

Truth sighed and fell back on the bed. As much as she tried to disguise, she couldn’t fool herself. She was hear because she cared about. More than she should. She still thought about that moment in his arms, and with those thoughts came all the guilt and shame. She should miss Danny’s kisses the same way she craved Jackson’s. But she didn’t, and that to her felt like the biggest betrayal.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the other room. Truth bolted up in the bed. It was followed by a loud thud, and she jumped up from the bed. Slipping into her bathrobe, she rushed down the hall to Jackson’s room. Another loud thud came from inside and Truth hurried her steps.

“Jackson?”

When he didn’t respond, Truth threw open the door and found him leaning against the wall, trying to reach for his fallen crutch. His head ripped over at her as he braced his weight on his other leg.

“Damn it, Truth. Can’t you knock?”

She went to him and picked up the crutch, ignoring his surliness. Something she was getting good at.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

He took the crutch from her and started toward the door. “I need to take a piss.”

Truth followed closely after him as he carefully limped his way to the bathroom. “Didn’t the hospital give you some portable urinals to use at home?”

“The last thing I want to do is piss in a plastic tube and have it sitting on my nightstand.”

Truth pursed her lips. When would he get it through his thick skull that he was still in recovery?

“The more strain you put on that leg, the longer you prolong your recovery. You really need to stay off of it.”

“I will as soon as I take care of my business.”

“Do you need any help?”

Jackson froze at the bathroom doorway and threw her an incredulous look. “Help me piss? Get real.”

Truth rolled her eyes. “I’m a nurse, remember? I’ve helped plenty of people to the bathroom. It’s no big deal.”

“I’m not one of your patients, honey. I’m bigger than you and not as weak as you think.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why are your arms trembling?” When he didn’t acknowledge that bit of scrutiny, she forged on. “I may be half your size, but I’m stronger than I look and there’s nothing wrong with needing help. Even if it’s coming from someone smaller than you.”

“Well, when I need your help playing with my joystick, I’ll yell for you.” He hobbled into the bathroom and shut the door in her face.

Truth frowned at the closed door. If he thought he could shock or get a rise out of her with his crassness, he would have to try harder.

“I spent three months working in a hospital in the Bronx, Jackson. You can’t scare me off. I’ve heard and seen it all.”

He didn’t respond, and she didn’t expect him to. She waited patiently for him to finish so she could escort him back to his room. When the door finally came open, they didn’t say a word to each other. She just followed behind him again until he eased himself back into bed. Truth reached for the crutches, but he waved her away.

“I got it.”

Truth stood close, ready and waiting in case he needed her. As he propped the crutches against the nightstand, her gaze fell on the two prescription bottles there. One was already empty, and the other was almost there. Truth frowned and picked up the amber bottle. She was certain she had moved them into the medicine cabinet when she’d been cleaning up earlier.

A quick scan of the bottle revealed that it was indeed running short and the prescription had recently been filled. She couldn’t understand why he needed such strong medicine when over-the-counter painkillers would have been enough.

She then remembered what he’d told her about his drinking and she glanced at him, concerned. Was he trading one substance for another just to numb the real pain he refused to talk with her about?

Her hand tightened around the bottle then she slipped it into the pocket of her robe.

Jackson swung his gaze toward her. “What was that?”

She hesitated for the briefest of moments. “Your pills. I’m taking them with me.”

“Why?”

“I think it’s best if I administer them to you. Make sure you’re sticking to your dosing schedule.”

His face hardened. “Stop treating me like an addict. I’m not self-medicating, now put them back.”

She shook her head. Whether it was intentional or not, he was clearly over medicating yet barely over his dependency to alcohol. She had come back to help him recover and that included all of him.

He would have to learn to face his pain head on or find another way to cope with it.

“Sorry, Jackson, but I can’t do that.”

“Damn it, Truth, this isn’t up for debate. I—”

“I’m glad you realized that,” she interrupted briskly. “Good night.”

She quickly left his room, not giving him a chance to fight her on this because she wasn’t backing down.

Not on this.