Jackson Page in all his glory.
He was fixing one of my mom’s flowerpots he must have knocked over. Once he’d pushed it up against the wall and swept away the spilled soil, he stood and pulled a note from his pocket. He came right to the door and I shied back. With barely a sliver to see him through, I watched as he tried to shove a piece of paper into the slit between the deadbolt and the doorframe.
Why was he here?
I should have just let him leave his note and go, but I was curious. How long had I hoped for his attention? Too many hours to count. Now I had it and I wanted to know why.
Curiosity had turned me into a glutton for punishment.
Quickly, I righted my pajamas so the seams weren’t crooked. My camisole was black, not as see-through as he’d seen the other night. My hot-pink pajama pants had little black bows on the cotton and were cuter than the yellow ones I’d been wearing during his last visit.
Just as I tugged my camisole up higher on my breasts, Jackson managed to get his note wedged by the lock and turned to leave.
I stepped over to the knob, undid the deadbolt and opened the door.
Jackson spun back around, his eyes taking in my bare feet and pajamas. “Hey. Sorry to wake you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, chilled from the night air. It was August but nights in Montana were still cool. Not to mention that being around Jackson gave me goose bumps.
“What are you doing here?”
He bent and picked up the note that had fallen when I’d opened the door. He held it out. “I swear I’m not stalking you. But I didn’t think this could wait.”
I took it from his hand and started to unfold it, but he stopped me. “Don’t read it. Not while I’m here.”
“Okay.” I folded it back up, shoved it in my pants pocket and recrossed my arms.
I didn’t say anything else, but I didn’t go inside either. I just stood there as we stared at one another.
He’d chased me into the parking lot last night and told me that something between us felt special. Then he’d checked out that woman right in front of me. I’d had to sit witness as he’d drooled over her cleavage and raked his eyes over her ass as she’d strutted to the door.
Had he gone home with her after I’d left? Did he even realize how much he’d hurt me? He treated me like second place. I was just a consolation prize. A nobody.
I was right there—sitting right there in front of him—and he picked someone else. Again. The pain I’d felt at the diner came back in full force.
I really needed that wish I’d made earlier tonight to come true.
“Good night.” I gripped the door to close it, but before it moved an inch, he said the one word guaranteed to stop me and make me weak in the knees.
“Willa.”
My name, said in his deep rumble, had never sounded so good.
“What?” I whispered.
“Dinner. Tomorrow at the bar.”
Was that a question or an order? I shook my head, closing the door another inch. “Good night, Jackson. Just . . . good night.”
“Wait.” With one stride, he stepped close. Too close. My breath hitched as the heat waves from his chest radiated my way. My goose bumps grew their own goose bumps and it had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can’t get you out of my head.” Jackson lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles down my arm, all the way from my shoulder to my elbow.
A shiver took a slow roll down my spine. “M-me?”
“Yeah. You.” He ran his hand back up to my shoulder, sending a tingle of electric sparks to my fingers.
The sensation made me sway on my bare feet.
Was I dreaming? This had to be a dream. Or was it a prank? My heart dropped to my stomach as I realized this could be some twisted joke. Like the time in ninth grade when Oliver Banks had asked me to the homecoming dance only because his friends had dared him to ask Mr. Doon’s daughter. He’d danced with me once, then admitted he had a crush on Hannah and left to dance with her instead.
Maybe someone had put Jackson up to this just to get a laugh. Was he making fun of me because of my crush?
“Is this a joke?” I whispered.
“What?” He gaped at me. “Why would you think this is a joke?”
“Forget it.” His astonishment made me feel slightly better. “I have a long day tomorrow so . . .” I shuffled back a few inches.
“Wait.” He reached out and cupped my elbow. “Why the hell would you think this was a joke?”
“Just because,” I said, fighting back tears.
I was exhausted and my wits were threadbare, so when I opened my mouth, the words in my head came out in a rush. “I’ve known you for years, Jackson, and you’ve hardly spoken to me at all. Then out of the blue, you ki—”
I stopped before I blurted out that he’d kissed me before. There was no need to relive that level of humiliation. Since he’d forgotten about our night in the playground, I was going to forget it too.
“I, what?” He nudged my elbow to keep talking. “What?”
“You come here,” I said, recovering. “You come to my work. You tell me that something about us feels special, but then you check out another woman in the bar. Is that all you want? An easy score? Because I hate to break it to you, but I’m as far from easy as you can get.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He held up his hands. “I did not check that chick out last night.”
“I was there. You looked right down her shirt and then at her butt as she left.”
“That was not because I was interested in her. Trust me.”
I frowned, sending him a silent yeah, right.
“It wasn’t! You know what it’s like when you drive by a dead deer on the side of the road? You don’t want to look at the blood and guts, but you can’t help it. That’s how it was with that woman. And I only watched her leave because I was worried she’d twist her ankle with the way she was strutting around and then sue me.”
“That’s . . . gross.” Although the roadkill analogy made sense.
“I’m not here as a joke, Willa. And I’m not here because I think you’re an easy score.” He paused, then chuckled. “I’ve put more work into trying to get you on a date than I have with any other woman in years.”
My jaw dropped. Had he just said that? Right when I’d stopped wanting to slam the door in his face, he’d ruined everything with that last comment. My hands fisted at my sides, my spine straightening into a steel rod.
“Putting in some effort is funny to you? I know women normally just fall at your feet, but you’ll have to excuse me for not stripping off my clothes and falling naked into your bed. Really, I’m so sorry to disappoint you.”
For once, my sarcastic comeback came at the right moment. Yes! I mentally high-fived myself.
Jackson’s smile dropped. “That’s not what I meant. You took that the wrong way.”
I didn’t care to know what the right way was. “Good night, Jackson.”
“Dinner. Just one dinner and I’ll leave you alone.” He took my elbow again, stopping me. “Look, we don’t know each other all that well, but I’d like to change that. Start as friends. Go from there. Haven’t you ever seen someone before and just felt this need to know them?”
Yes, I had.
Nine years ago in a gas station.
But timing had never been on my side. Back then—heck, three weeks ago—I would have agreed to dinner without question. Now, I wasn’t sure if having Jackson in my life was a good idea.
I was inviting heartache to my front door.
Before I could reject him, he let me go and took a step back. “Think about it. I’ll see you around.”
Then he turned and jogged down my steps, crushing a few flowers with his boots as he went. Mom needed to get over and do some pruning. I was even having a hard time maneuvering the stairs amid all the greenery.