Chapter Three
For two days, Jackson fished, ran, and spent hours by the fireside, drinking beer and reading a law novel. He thought he would be lonely in that great big house all by himself, but he soon discovered that the enormous space was just what he needed to clear his head. His thinking wasn’t muddled by memories of Chris as it had been all summer, a welcome change he attributed to the time away from Charlotte and Mike Tate.
Mike, he mused as he drank a cup of coffee on the deck one afternoon, was not handsome, not his usual type, if Jackson even had one. Yet, he knew there was something genuine about the man, something that made up for his lack of obvious sex appeal. Mike might be straight but there were qualities that he possessed that kept Jackson’s mind returning to him, thinking of him in a way that might prove useful. If he could find a man like Mike, he might find happiness, he reasoned as he blew the steam from the coffee and took a sip, enjoying the feeling of the warm beverage sliding down his throat.
Maybe that was his problem all along. Chris was just the latest in a string of terrible decisions. Chris was drop dead gorgeous, and so was the one before him and the one before him. Jackson had a way of attracting the best-looking guys, a feat he once relished but not anymore. All these men saw when they looked at him was a successful attorney in Charlotte’s most prestigious law firm. The fact that he was handsome and looked good in and out of his clothes was a bonus. Looking back on his life, he could see that Chris was the only man he had ever tried to have a real relationship with and he knew how that ended.
If he could find someone like Mike, someone that made him smile, that was kind, warm and didn’t make him feel self-conscious about every wrinkle and pound he gained, then he could be content. With a man like Mike, he might find true love, if it even existed. At least, Jackson reasoned, he knew what he was looking for in a man, something he had never given much thought to before now. Standing up, he stretched, his stomach growling. He knew what he was looking for in a man, but right now, he knew he what he wanted for dinner: a thick, juicy steak with all the trimmings.
Dropping the coffee cup in the sink, he perused the wine collection. Quickly selecting a dark red Cabernet, he left the bottle on the counter as he reached for his keys. A huge steak, baked potato, and a glass or two of wine would be ideal, he decided as he turned the key in the ignition, slightly disappointed that it cranked. If only the battery was dead. He could have called Mike.
The drive into Copper Falls was scenic, the fall foliage exploding in an array of colors from gold to deep crimson. Changing the satellite radio station to one of his old favorites that played 90s tunes, he tried to pay attention to the winding mountain roads and not the stunning scenery. If he did not waste too much time at the store, he could be back in time for the sunset on the deck and see all the leaves he wanted without the fear of running off the road.
Pulling into the parking lot of the only grocery store in Copper Falls, Jackson rushed inside, heading for the meat department. Steak was on his mind in a big way.
Perusing the choices, he did not expect to hear his name, “Hey, Jackson Sasser, isn’t it?”
Jackson turned to see Mike Tate standing beside him, “Hey Mike, how are you?”
“Pretty good, can’t complain. How’s the car? Is it causing you any more trouble?”
“Not at all,” Jackson answered as he glanced at Mike’s basket.
“What’s that? A frozen lasagna? You aren’t going to eat that, are you?”
Mike chuckled, “You must be talking about my single man’s special: frozen lasagna, a beer, and whatever’s on television.”
“Single? I thought you were married.”
“Was married, not anymore. Divorced about two years ago.”
“Look, why don’t you put that sad lasagna back in the freezer case for someone else and come on back to the house. I was going to grill a steak for dinner. It would be no trouble to grill two.”
“Steak? That does sound tempting. It’s a far cry better than what I was going to eat.”
“It sure is,” Jackson answered, his pulse racing.
“I don’t want to impose. This is your vacation.”
“Impose? Not at all, I could use the company. Tell me what you like, New York Strip, Rib Eye, T-Bone, or Filet Mignon?”
“If you’re doing the grilling, I won’t be picky. As long as it’s medium rare, I don’t care.”
“You sure are easy to please,” Jackson observed with a smile, silently comparing Mike to Chris, who was never easy to please.
“I consider myself low maintenance. Tell you what, since you’re doing the grilling, I’ll swing for the grub,” Mike said as he offered his hand to Jackson.
“You got yourself a deal,” Jackson said as he shook his hand, this time letting the handshake linger for a few seconds too long. “Although I feel bad about you paying for my dinner.”
“Don’t. Any night I don’t have to eat frozen food is a good night,” Mike said as he looked at the steaks in the case. “How about that T-Bone right there? That looks like a winner.”
Jackson picked up two T-Bones, placing them in the basket as he grinned like a possum. This vacation was getting better all the time.