7. Riley
seven
Riley
I f you told me my first date with the mystery man from the park would be at a hydroponic gardening seminar, I’d likely have just laughed in your face and told you to try again.
And if you told me the same mystery man would be a cowboy, a rodeo cowboy at that, I’d have asked you what alternate dimension you live in.
But our drive here was enjoyable. For a two-hour drive first thing in the morning, it doesn’t feel like I’ve spent time with someone I barely know. Jackson makes me laugh. He’s genuinely charming once he gets past the ‘ opening line jitters ,’ as I call them. And he’s a complete gentleman.
He even checked in several times to ask if I needed a rest stop. It’s only a couple of hours in a vehicle, but the offer was appreciated.
I’m enjoying his company at this hydroponic thing far more than I expected. Despite going into this knowing it’s a friend-only date, Jackson keeps treating me like a date. I’m still on the fence about how I feel about that.
Watching him weave through the crowd with a tray of food from the concession, my lips turn up as he approaches. Jackson requested I sit at a table and asked my permission to bring me food. While he waited in line and worked through the crowds—there really was a shocking amount of people here—I relaxed.
“Okay, you said to surprise you since it seems like we have similar food tastes. How do you feel about sharing a few things?”
Jackson sets the tray of food on the table and seats himself across from me. His hopeful smile is hard to resist, and I grin back.
“If you don’t double dip, I’m game.”
Jackson scrunches his nose like a disgusted little rabbit.
“Eww. No.” He removes the lid from the containers and passes me a set of cutlery as he explains what he chose for us. “I got us each a salad. Everything is grown with hydroponics, of course. I didn’t know what kind of dressing you like, so I got you all three, but my favourite is the grapefruit vinaigrette.”
Jackson points to his favourite, so I choose that one as he tells me about the other dish he brought for us to share. If I’d come across all this information on a television show, I’d have changed the channel or fallen asleep watching it.
But experiencing a hydroponic gardening conference with Jackson, who is obviously into it, is an entirely unique experience. It’s like pausing a live TV show to ask the host questions.
“Hydroponics works well with our area. We have so many cattle out here and they need the room for grazing. When I first pitched the business idea to Cameron, he was so in and we had this passionate idea. It was like…we just dove in headfirst, ready to take it on.” He chews a mouthful of salad and gestures to the other container. “Strawberries, Riley. In a big enough facility, we could produce strawberries like this all year around and not worry about the weeding or how much land we’d need to give up for a strawberry patch. Plus…no frost head aches.”
Jackson speaks with no hesitation or shyness. His enthusiasm for the subject shines through in his words. He’d make a great salesman.
“You never told me what happened to the business. May I ask?”
Jackson pushes his salad around before sitting back with a huff.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just…he made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to partner with. We verbally agreed on how it would work, and he made me feel bad when I sometimes missed crucial things. But he knew I would. I didn’t shirk my responsibilities. I wanted this to work. Still do really.”
“I don’t understand. He dragged you through dissolving a business because he thought you were lazy? That doesn’t make any sense. From what I’ve learned today, this isn’t a cheap setup. Surely you both invested loads of money into this?”
Jackson nods and pushes a giant tray of strawberry salad between us. His previous glow of enthusiasm fades as he pokes at a strawberry.
“The honey glaze on this is locally produced. Organic too. The goat cheese is some of the best around.”
Jackson stabs at a strawberry like it offends him, and the tightness of his jaw removes all the earlier traces of his easygoing smile.
“Cameron thinks because I make more money at rodeo, I’m not as committed to the hydroponics business. He said the company wouldn’t be taken seriously if a guy who wrestles steers grows sustainable produce.” Jackson lays his fork down and leans across the table into my personal space. “They can co-exist Riley. We did it for four years. We never had people complain about what I do. What the hell does my being a steer wrestler have to do with anything? I can’t understand why he’d just shove me out like that.”
Jackson leans back again, and the disappointment in his voice is palpable. “We invested lots, yes. He bought me out. When you met me in the park that day, I’d just come from the mediator appointment, and I hoped it would end differently. I laid on the grass because I felt like my friend sucker punched me.”
“Jackson…I’m so sorry you had to go through that. For what it’s worth, I think he’s made a mistake. I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but you’re very passionate about this. It’s hard to fake that.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry for unloading all that.”
“I asked, so don’t apologize.”
Jackson finishes eating, and even though he’s clearly troubled about his business breakup, he wants to enjoy this odd hobby with me. I feel like this is a part of Jackson that he doesn’t always show people, and I feel very privileged he chose me to share it with.
“So…ready to get wicked?”
His sinful grin and sultry tone make my mouth run dry as he makes a joke with the name of the process used to feed the plants nutrients. Which, if I hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have understood. It’s adorably nerdy and I can’t help but grin back.
“Is that what you say to all the boys?” I tease. But my skin runs hot when his gaze caresses my body.
“Just the extra pretty ones.”
Despite my frosty attitude over the whole cowboy thing, it’s hard not to like his charm. Or his attention. It’s genuine and while he’s already expressed his attraction to me, there’s more to Jackson, and I can’t quite figure it out yet .
“That was pretty smooth, Jackson.”
He stands from our table and scoops all the trash on the tray. I follow beside him as he dumps our tray, sorting all the recyclables and organics in the bins, and we leave the small cafeteria at the conference centre.
“I have my moments, Riley. Not very many, but I definitely feel comfortable with you,” he murmurs.
I return his small smile because it is comfortable with him.
“I think you just wanted someone to keep you company today.”
He pauses outside the next lecture hall that’s filling for the afternoon talk.
“Can I make a confession?”
I step aside to allow others to enter the room. “As long as it’s not a biblical confession. And no kneeling.”
Jackson blinks for a moment, clearly not knowing how to handle my attempt at humour, before stepping over to the side with me.
“Um, no. Not that I wouldn’t kneel for you if you asked. It’s just not something I do? Um…” He closes his eyes and presses his lips together. “Not so smooth now, am I?”
A giggle slips out, and he raises an eyebrow while I slap a hand over my mouth.
“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. You’re just super cute when you get nervous.”
“That’s the second time today you called me cute.” He inhales a deep breath. “You really think I’m cute?”
His soft gaze holds mine and I can’t lie to him.
“I do. Immensely cute.”
Jackson’s smile is so bright I need to fish out my sunglasses.
“My confession was: yes, I asked you for company first. But I really wanted to prove to Cameron that I’m not the fuckup he seems to think I am if I have a boyfriend.” He huffs a small laugh. “I know that sounds lame, but me being here during rodeo season and with a date makes me feel validated. Like I can still have rodeo and other things. A relationship and a business. So thank you for boosting my confidence.”
Well… this Cameron guy sounds like a dick.
“Is Cameron here?”
“Yeah. I saw him earlier, and he’s probably in this talk.”
“Well then. Let’s give him something to think about.”
Taking Jackson’s hand in mine, I pull us into the lecture building and ignore how much I like holding his hand.
“Where is he?” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth.
Jackson bends low and whispers near my ear. “Balding guy near the front in the orange shirt.”
There’s space in the row in front of Cameron, so I tug Jackson along by the hand and, once seated, I make a show of sitting close to him and leaning my head on his shoulder.
When Jackson drapes his arm across the back of my chair, I smile up at him. In my periphery, Cameron raises an eyebrow when he notices us, and I turn my gaze fully back to the front of the room.
“He noticed,” I murmur low, and Jackson squeezes my shoulder.
As the talk begins, I expect Jackson to withdraw his arm and take notes or something, but he doesn’t.
Tapping his knee for his attention, he tilts his head down.
“I just need to step out for a few minutes. I’ll be back.”
“Is everything okay? ”
“Yeah, I just need to check on something.”
Jackson’s eyes bore into my soul, and I turn away without another word to shuffle out into the hall.
Once outside, I walk down the hall to the nearest exit, desperately in need of fresh air and to clear my mind of everything Jackson Sutherland.
I won’t fall for another cowboy.
“I know you thought I’d be bored today, but I had a wonderful time.”
Jackson smiles over at me before returning his attention to the road.
“For real? You were interested?”
“Yes! My aunt likes to tease me about my love of salads, but I love knowing more about food and how it’s grown. It’s why I love Avocadabra. They’re not the usual burger and fries place. It’s fresh and healthy, organic and local as much as they can be.”
“Good, that makes me happy. Avocadabra was our first commercial customer. We sold them strawberries and spinach. Since we were local, they could call up in the morning and order if they needed to keep their stock fresh. I found their hummus by accident when they needed a taste tester. It was an experiment, and I said ‘ This needs to be on the menu, Hannah .’”
Jackson chuckles, lost in the memory. The headlights of passing vehicles shine into the cab, illuminating his small smile as he’s lost in thought. I imagine him encouraging Hannah with her recipes. He’d do that because it’s who he is. I don’t need to know him for longer than today to know that Jackson always wants his friends to succeed.
“I need to get healthier meals for my aunt. She lives alone, and she says she’s fine, but I know she eats a lot of canned stuff. I read there were cases of scurvy on the rise with seniors. Did you know that?”
“What!? No! What the hell?”
Jackson’s fingers grip the wheel, and his jaw tightens.
“Yeah. It’s the isolated seniors or the ones who can’t afford the fresh fruit and vegetables on their pensions. It’s scary to know a disease like that is still around when we’ve come so far.”
“That’s very sad. But your aunt, is she okay?”
Laughing, I smile into the darkened truck cab. “Oh yeah. Stubborn as fuck, but she’s okay.”
Jackson nods and swallows. The click of his throat sounds over the low music from the radio.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course you can.”
Jackson bites at his lip as Blondie croons softly from the radio set to 80s hits.
“When you left me in the seminar, you seemed very shaken up. Did I do something wrong?”
As great as the day has been, it was the tiny bump that he noticed. I should have known he would. He’s far too observant .
“No.” Sighing, I let my head rest on the window. “I just…sometimes I get stuck in my head and it was one of those times.”
Jackson hums and I’m not sure if it’s in understanding or something else.
“You’d tell me if I did something to make you uncomfortable, right? If pretending for Cameron was—”
“No. It’s not that Jackson. You did nothing wrong. You’ve been great.”
One nod with his gaze out the front is all he gives me, and I’m relieved he doesn’t press it because I’m not sure how to voice what’s going through my mind right now.
When he pulls into his driveway and stops alongside my car, I realize the night is about to end, and a hollowness sits in my chest.
“I had a nice day, Riley. Thank you for joining me and indulging my nerdiness.”
“You’re not nerdy. You’re passionate.”
The silence lingers as the cooling engine ticks.
“Um, for what it’s worth, Jackson, I don’t think your awkward mumbles when talking to someone you like are terrible. You seem to get more comfortable the longer we’re together.”
He does that hum again that I can’t decipher.
“That’s because it’s you. You do that, Riley. I don’t know if I’d be the same with a stranger.” Before I can reply that we are still mostly strangers, despite all we’ve shared today, he fumbles with his seatbelt before exclaiming, “Oh! I have something for you inside! Don’t forget your mug and I’ll be right back.”
Jackson bolts into his house and I grab the adorable mug from the truck console. No way am I leaving that behind. Stepping into the dark yard, I frown when the interior truck lights extinguish, plunging me into darkness. There’s not even a streetlight out here and I reach out to touch my car while my eyes adjust to the dark.
The door of Jackson’s house opens and light from inside spills out as he stalks back to me.
“I keep forgetting to change that damn light bulb. Sorry I left you out here in the dark. I, uh…I got this for you, but didn’t want to give it to you earlier.”
He holds what looks like a bouquet, but there aren’t any stems to hold on to. Instead, there’s a brightly patterned paper bowl and inside is…vegetables?
“What is it?”
“Um, this is lettuce from my garden. I have it all year around. There’s a handful of strawberries. It was all I had left for now. The rest are still green. Anyway, it’s for you.”
This is new. Not unwelcome, but new.
“Wow. Thank you, Jackson. That’s thoughtful and I don’t think I’ve ever been gifted produce by a date before.”
“I probably shouldn’t do that with a real date, then? Stick with flowers?”
Right. We aren’t really dating. We’re just friends. I don’t do cowboys and I’d do well to remember that.
Clearing away the lump in my throat, I paste a smile on again. “I’d wait until you’re extremely comfortable with them before shoving a salad bowl in their hands.”
“Heh, yeah. You’re probably right.”
His swallow clicks in the night silence.
“Can I take you out again? As a friend, I mean?”
“Yeah. I had fun. We could do something together. ”
Jackson opens the car door for me and wordlessly moves to the passenger side, setting my gift of produce on the seat before returning to the driver’s side.
“Goodnight, Riley. Text me when you get home?”
“Goodnight, Jackson. I will.”
His hand touches my arm briefly before he withdraws it and stuffs it in his pocket.
I climb into my car and when I’ve backed out of his driveway, he’s still standing there, watching me leave.