Chapter 4
JACKSON
Iring the doorbell again and stand on Cane and Archie’s porch, my hands tucked into the pockets of my coat while the cold wind whips around and hits my face.
My date, Rebecca, is a good sport as she stands next to me, but she’s bouncing on one foot and then the other, trying to keep warm.
That can’t be easy in the high-heeled boots she’s wearing.
At least she has enough sense to be bundled up in a warm coat and scarf, though she didn’t want to mess up her hair with a hat.
“Sorry. I don’t know what’s taking them so long,” I say apologetically to Rebecca, whose nose has turned red from the cold.
“No big deal,” she says, a bright smile on her pretty face. We’ve only been dating for a couple of months—but I like her. She’s nice, and things with her are easy and uncomplicated. “It’s really cold today though, huh?” she says, a little breathless in the cold air.
I ring the doorbell again. “You can go wait in my truck if you want. It’s way too cold out here.”
She just waves me off, her smile once again big and on display.
And okay, that’s the one thing I don’t exactly love about her—she seems too eager to please.
I don’t know why it irks me. It should probably be endearing, but I don’t like it.
I want her to push back. I don’t want her to just agree with me.
I want to know what she likes and dislikes.
I want her to go wait in the damn truck when I know she’s cold.
But she doesn’t. She stands there like a good little trooper until Archie finally opens the door, his red hair disheveled and his clothes rumpled.
“Really?” I ask, wanting to be annoyed but more amused because it’s pretty obvious why they kept us waiting out in the cold for so long. My theory is only confirmed when Cane walks by, buttoning up his jeans and looking guilty, his cheeks a rosy shade of pink. “You guys knew we were coming.”
“Yeah well . . .” Archie says with a devious smirk. “We needed to come first.” He winks at me, and I cackle when his boyfriend nudges him with his elbow in the side.
Cane looks sheepishly at me. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” I say as they let us into their warm house and Archie closes the door behind us.
“This is Rebecca,” I say almost as an afterthought.
That should make me feel guilty, but I don’t know why it doesn’t.
I don’t know if things are going to work out with her, if I’m being honest with myself.
Something just isn’t right with us. There’s no denying that.
“Nice to meet you.” Archie holds out his hand. “I’m Archie. I work with this guy.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Rebecca says, her voice light and flowery, which grates on my nerves.
What the hell is wrong with me? She’s so nice.
She’s great. Perfect really. My mom and dad love her.
She’s kind. She’s a teacher, for Christ’s sake.
She teaches tiny humans every day and comes home with a smile on her face. She’s a saint.
“I’m Cane.” He reaches his hand out to shake hers after Archie, and it’s all perfectly pleasant.
“Should we go?” I ask, and they agree, turning off a couple of lights and locking up before we head out to my truck. Archie and Cane live pretty close to my house, so it made sense to carpool to Oakley and Trav’s.
When we get there, I’m surprised to only see three trucks outside.
I thought we were late, but we don’t seem to be.
I open the door to let Rebecca out of the truck and take her hand as we walk up to the front door.
I chuckle when we pass Oakley’s rust bucket of a truck, which is decorated for the holiday.
My boss is ridiculous, and I picture Travis’s face when he saw it, making me chuckle again. Rebecca seems intrigued but doesn’t say anything, just giving a slight smile.
“Fucking Oakley,” Archie quips as we walk by the spectacle.
“He does love Christmas,” I say, ringing the doorbell. “Let’s hope they don’t make us wait as long as you two did.”
“We said we’re sorry,” Cane grumbles.
I toss my head back on a laugh just as Oakley answers the door, and this motherfucker—I shit you not—is in a full Santa costume. The red pants. The black boots. The matching velvet coat and hat with a white fluffy ball. He isn’t wearing a fake beard, but you get the idea.
And he has the biggest smile on his face. “Merry fucking Christmas!”
“Guessing Amber isn’t here yet,” I say with a laugh.
“I told him to get it all out of his system now,” Trav says, walking to the door.
He’s dressed in black slacks and a button-down shirt, and you might think he’s annoyed with his husband’s antics if you didn’t know them well.
He’s wearing a pinched expression, but if you look at his eyes, they shine for that man.
It’s almost gross how much they love each other. “Oakley, let them in.”
“Oh right,” he says with a grin, sweeping his hand out as he steps back and allows us all to walk inside. “Welcome to our home.” We walk inside, and Oakley eyes Rebecca. “We haven’t met.”
“I’m Rebecca,” Her eyes sparkle with charming laughter as she takes Oakley in.
“I’m Oakley. This is my husband, Travis.” He wraps a beefy arm around Travis, who just laughs, holding his hand out to my date.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” And again, it’s all super pleasant and great.
I should be happy. Rebecca fits in perfectly at the party as guests start to arrive.
Dutton, who’s dating Walker, another member of Oakley’s Crew, starts taking photographs of the guests and the party setup.
Dutton is a professional photographer, though I think the pictures are more for all of us tonight.
Rebecca falls into easy conversation with everyone but especially Sarah and Walker as they help Travis get the food ready to serve for dinner.
“She’s nice.” Asher.
I turn my head to look at my coworker, his blond hair neater and more styled than I’m used to seeing it, for damn sure.
His dark green eyes shine with mirth, and I feel like he’s mocking me.
Which isn’t uncommon for Asher. He loves to bust my balls.
Has for the past year he’s been working at Oakley’s Crew.
But we get along pretty well. “She is nice.
“How nice.” He’s definitely mocking me now.
“You have something to say?”
“Me?” His voice goes up an annoying octave as he waggles his eyebrows. “No, of course not. Like I said, she’s nice. Took my coat when I got here and everything. She’s very . . .”—I wait, though I’m not really sure I want to hear what he has to say—“accommodating.”
“Fuck you,” I say quietly, and he snickers.
I also hate that he met her twenty minutes ago, and he’s already picked up on the thing that bugs me the most about her. “It’s not a bad thing to be helpful.”
“Not at all.” His brows are raised in sarcasm, and I kind of want to punch him.
“I like her,” I say and feel defensive. Not really of Rebecca but maybe my judgment. Damn him.
“Good,” he says with a smirk.
“It is good.” His eyes meet mine, and I realize we’re standing closer now, toe-to-toe, same height, and our eyes are locked. “I like her a lot.”
“You keep repeating that.” He leans in. It’s subtle and really quick. His voice is gravelly when he reaches my ear. “Maybe soon, you’ll start to believe it.”
He strides away from me, and I hate the tingle that spreads down my side, my eyes falling closed for a brief moment and then opening to watch him walk away from me. I finally pull my eyes off his jeans-clad ass just in time to meet Rebecca’s kind eyes.
She looks a little uncertain as she smiles at me, and I try to shake off the lust-filled thoughts from staring at Asher.
We’re coworkers.
Friends.
I join Rebecca, Walker, and Sarah, picking up the conversation and trying my best not to let my eyes wonder over to where Asher is talking to Dutton and Oakley. Because we’re coworkers. And friends. I try to repeat that over and over to myself because maybe then my brain will finally get it.
We cannot be lovers.